Page 59 of Dr. Stone
“Fuck, I feel alive again,” Collin said, his voice muffled by the helmet until he flipped up the visor. His blue eyes were sparking like he’d just come off an adrenaline high.
“You look like it, too,” I chuckled, swinging off my bike and steadying it on the kickstand.
“He looks like a man who just got laid,” John Aster added, already striding toward the entrance like the man never ran out of energy.
Jake smirked, falling in beside me. “Nah. Collin’s got a whole different face when that happens.”
“You wish you knew the look,” Collin fired back with a wink, finally tugging off his helmet and mussing his already wrecked hair.
“Quit trying to stay in the closet,” I teased. “Jake brags about it at work all the time.”
Collin gave him a friendly jab. “Glad my reputation made it to the cardiac wing, lover.”
The banter carried us up the steps, but it died the moment we stepped inside. The Sunset always had a good vibe—string lights, firepits, the terrace stretching right into the ocean view. Malibu’s usual crowd of influencers filled the bar, but it still managed to feel laid-back, the kind of place where we could catch our breath over steaks and beer.
The hostess locked eyes with me, then blinked as the other three heart-stoppers filed in behind. Her cheeks flushed pinkand I almost laughed in response. For a second, I considered my old play—slipping her my number, chasing the invitation in her eyes. It would’ve been easy. It always was.
But that wasn’t me anymore.
Because damn, I was caught up with Andie. Hopelessly, inexplicably, completely. And the strangest fucking part? For the first time in my life, I didn’t want to chase anyone else.
“Table for four,” I said with a smile.
“Excellent.” The hostess flashed me a grin that should’ve sparked something. It didn’t. “Is the terrace okay tonight?”
“You read his mind,” John laughed softly. He knew me well—just not well enough to realize how much Andie had changed me.
“Follow me,” she said, menus tucked to her side as her tight hips led the way.
As we trailed behind, another woman at the bar caught my eye. Her friends were mid-laugh, but she went still, staring at me like I was the punchline. That had always been my game—my thing—the thrill of knowing I could reel a woman in with nothing more than a look. But now? The only woman I wanted to charm with a look was spending an extravagant three-day weekend with Titus.
I’d done well avoiding the thought of them, trying not to stew over how the hell I could outmaneuver that bastard and move things forward with Andie. But with my head finally free from the hospital grind, distraction was impossible. Gorgeous women practically begging me to notice them weren’t enough. They only reminded me of the tug-of-war Hawk and I were playing—and how much I needed to win.
“The waiter will be with you shortly,” the hostess said with a final flirty glance before disappearing back inside.
We shrugged off our leather jackets and draped them over our chairs, the terrace lights glowing warm against glass walls that blocked the ocean wind. Firepits flickered. Torchescrackled. The place hummed with laid-back luxury. All I wanted now was a cold beer and a mountain of truffle fries.
“We need to do this more often,” Collin said. “Why the hell did we park those bikes for so long?”
“Maybe having a wife and kids had something to do with it,” Jake muttered, eyes still on the menu.
“Nah, don’t blame them,” I said, not even opening mine. I knew exactly what I wanted—truffle fries and a bloody steak. “You two just got soft and forgot how to thrive like you used to.”
Jake smirked while John added, “For me, there was no chance in hell I was riding all the way up here from our old place before we finally gave in and bought in Malibu.”
“What convinced Mick to ditch the cute Stepford town?” Collin asked, lifting his beer the second it hit the table.
“She loved the vibe whenever we came to your kids’ parties. Then Nat worked her magic—found us a beach place we couldn’t pass up. Now, we’re all fucking neighbors.”
I laughed, downing another gulp of beer. “Who’d have thought you and Sebastian would end up not just on the same shoreline, but the same zip code?” I’d known the brothers long enough to know no one had seen that coming.
Jake chuckled. “You think that’s a leap for the Asters?” He leaned back, smirk tugging like he was about to drop classified intel. “Jim told me something you bastards won’t believe?—”
And right on cue—like they trained servers to wait until the exact wrong moment—ours swooped in to take our order.
When they finally left, I leaned forward with my beer. “Alright, Jake. What bomb were you about to drop before we got ambushed?”
“Mom and Pop Aster are moving to the 90210.” Jake lifted his glass toward John, smirking. “Either they’ve finally unclenched and decided the West Coast life is better… or they’ve just upped the ante on their two rebellious trust-fund babies.”
