Page 3 of Risk

“Last night,” she says, ignoring me.

“Do you want me to puke on you?”

She laughs. “I’m just saying, you need to get laid, and I’m telling you, like I’ve told you before, Kaden wants you.”

I roll my eyes. “You done peeing yet?”

“Don’t change the subject, and, yeah, I’m done peeing.”

Thank fuck. I need to get out of this stall and this conversation.

“I’m not changing the subject.” I totally am.

I help her off the toilet and fix her dress.

“You and Kaden are close though.”

“Not really.”

Ari gives me a disbelieving look. “When we’re all together, you guys are always chatting.”

“Yeah, but I don’t see him outside of our group things. I only see him with Zeus. It’s not like we’re friends outside of that. We don’t text—I don’t even have his phone number. He’s my brother’s best friend, and I want to make him feel like he’s part of our family, not like an outsider.”

I know Kaden grew up in foster care. I don’t know what age he entered the system or why or if he has family. He doesn’t talk about it.

I spent time with him when he was in the treatment center, recovering from his head injury. I’d go visit him, but when he left there and got his own place, I didn’t ever visit him at his apartment.

I know he lived in a rental in the East Village, and when his compensation from the International Boxing Federation was paid out, he bought an apartment on Broadway, but I don’t know where exactly. I don’t know how much his payout was—because it’d be rude to ask, and it doesn’t really matter to me anyway. I just hope he got what he deserved for all he had gone through. Not that money could ever change what he endured, but it’d help his financial security. The money he could have earned if he continued fighting would have been huge. So, he deserved every dollar he received.

“He’s been a part of our family for a long time now. You don’t need to talk to him to make him feel that way. He already knows he’s a part of the clan. You talk to him because you like him…” She lets her words trail off.

When I say nothing, she makes a noise of frustration, which would be cute and funny if it wasn’t directed at me.

“Every time I ask you if you like him, you either say nothing or avoid answering me by changing the subject. Which, by the way, tells me that you like him.”

“So, if you already know, then why do you keep bugging me about it?”

“Because I want you to admit it. Wait, did you just admit it?”

“No. Maybe.”

“So, you finally admit that you like him?” Her face is beaming.

“Fine! I like him.” I think he’s the hottest man I’ve ever seen, and I would like to jump his bones in many, many different ways.

“Yasss!” She claps her hands together.

“But”—I give her a stern look to stop her from getting carried away—“he’s older than me.”

“Ares is older than me.”

“By two years, Ari.” I roll my eyes at her. “Kaden is six years older than me. He’s a year older than Zeus—you know, my big brother, who happens to be his best friend.”

“I just married my dad’s starting quarterback. And you’re my best friend, and he’s your brother.”

Laughing, I shake my head at her. “I met you through my brother. That is not the same, babe.”

She pouts. “Maybe not, but I still think your reasons are moo.”

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