Page 8 of Best Friends

“You know… that I know a thing or two about the body, right?”

Benji narrowed his stare. “Just because you considered becoming a doctor doesn’t mean you know what you’re doing.”

“It was sports medicine. And hey, I took all those anatomy classes and worked part time as a PT assistant for a year before I switched degrees.” Jesse now worked as a financial planner, following in his father’s footsteps and working at the family business. He hadn’t wanted that, but it had been easier.

Now, he learned it sucked as much as he’d thought it would.

“Still doesn’t mean shit, Jess.”

He sighed. “I just don’t want you getting hurt. Again.”

Benji rolled his eyes.

“Anyway… Adam and Clay…”

“Those two argue all the time. Give it a few weeks and they’ll be fine,” Benji said.

“No. I think we need to get them in the same space and make them face one another,” Jesse countered. “That way we can gauge the temperature and see how bad it is this time.”

“If they’re pissed off at one another, how are we supposed to get them to come?”

Jesse grinned. “We lie.”

“That’s not cool.”

“If it’s for a good cause?”

Benji lifted a brow.

Jesse continued. “We tell each one of them that the other can’t make it and then persuade them both to come. They show up, and we go all ninja on them and don’t let them go until they’ve made up.”

Benji looked up at him from his seat on the leg press. “Fine. But we need to eat this time. Hayden got blasted last time because he hadn’t eaten first—and I hadn’t had much myself. The following day wasn’t fun.”

“You’re such an old man,” Jesse said with a smile.

“You two gonna use the equipment or run your mouths?” a big buff dude asked, moving in close.

“Almost done,” Benji said, frowning. He lifted the weights too quickly—apparently forgetting the loss of weight. They clanged hard, the noise hurting Jesse’s ears.

“Amateurs,” the big dude said before sauntering off to find another piece of equipment.

Jesse looked back at Benji. “That new Chinese place opened up around the corner from Jackson Street.” Jackson Street was more or less Bar Row. The street was closed to traffic, and there were three whole blocks of bars, clubs, and pubs—something for every taste. “We can hit there, grease up the old stomach, and take a walk on down. Say Friday night?”

“Sounds good,” Benji said. “You are going to call Adam and Clay, right?”

“Can you call Clay? I just tried a little bit ago. I don’t want to sound like I’m nagging.”

“You know I suck at lying,” Benji said.

“Come on, Benj—you can do it!”

Jesse smiled as Benji rolled his eyes.

“Fine,” Benji said.

“Good. I’ll call everyone else,” Jesse said. He looked to the right and saw big and beefy walking back. “Better finish up before we piss off the natives.”

Benji pushed his legs up again, slower this time. “Hey, you think it would be cool if I brought my new neighbor? He’s new in town. Seems like a good enough guy.”

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