My Uncle Nathan owns a construction firm and I work for him part-time. I joke he cracks the whip, but he just takes his work very seriously and puts two hundred percent into everything he does, and expects the same from his crew. They’re currently restoring an old Greek Revival style home just outside of town. It’s actually pretty cool seeing the interior and exterior morph back into proper condition. The structural integrity of the house is intact; it’s got really good bones. Whoever owned it last took it in some strange directions we’re now undoing. Last week we ripped up nasty carpet in a large seating area to find well-preserved wooden floors that had been painted in a wide trellis design. The pattern is faded but visible enough to make it out, so Nathan’s having it redone. It’s going to look pretty fucking fantastic when it’s finished. I’m low-key jealous of the new owners.
“Ryne, hold up. I’ll walk out with you.” Roman stands up on the booth seat and steps over Tyler, then hops down to the floor.
“Roman Lennox,” Ms. Opal chides him from the service area as we walk by. “You better act right if you want to continue to eat here.”
Roman raises his hand and waves it over his shoulder once in acknowledgment. The door chimes as we cross over the threshold and step out into the searing hot sun. I pull my keys from my pocket.
“Need a ride?”
“Yeah, thanks.” I nod and we walk over to my truck and get in. “Christ, it’s hot in here.” Roman picks up an old issue of Bowhunter magazine from the floor of the truck and fans himself with it. I put the windows down and crank on the air conditioner. “It feels like you’re blasting the heater. Turn that shit off.”
A bead of sweat drips down between my shoulder blades and I rub back against the seat. “It’ll cool off in a minute.” I shift into gear and pull out of the parking lot. “So am I taking you home or somewhere else?”
“Home, but can we swing by the garage first if you got time?”
“Sure.” I quickly signal and make a left to head toward the garage where Roman’s dad works. “Your car in the shop again?”
He grumbles and reaches over to fumble with the radio dial. “Yeah, damn piece of shit stalled out on me again yesterday and Jax had to come tow it. They’re still working on it. I just wanna make sure the asshat’s not the one doing it, and it’s Jax, Lincoln, or the sperm donor.”
The asshat being Dylan Griffin. I ain’t the only one who can’t stand him. He works there part-time, although why Lincoln, Roman and Jax’s uncle, hired him in the first place none of us understand. Roman flicks his hair out of his eyes and settles on a hard rock station. He cranks up the volume and Angus Young’s epically shrill voice blasts from the speakers. Roman sits there silently, shaking one leg up and down rapidly and not at all on beat with the music, then leans forward and turns the volume down again. The leg shaking continues and he clears his throat. And then does it again. And again. I glance at him as I shift into the next gear.
“I talked to Cass last night.”
My eyes are wide when I look over again. “No shit. It’s been, what?” I count in my head and then swear under my breath. “Six months? Fuck. How is he?”
Roman shrugs. “Fine, I guess.”
I exhale heavily. “Are you still—“
“Yup.” Roman cuts me off in his deep voice before I even finish the question. Okay then.
Cassius Lennox. Jesus. I rub the pressure point on my forehead with two fingers, and then downshift and turn into the parking lot of Greer’s Garage. Roman has the door open before I’m even fully stopped in front of the building, and he jumps out.
“I’ll be back in a few.” He tilts his head behind him and jerks his thumb back. “Park in front of the last bay there.”
I glance back at the area and open my mouth to acknowledge what he said, but he’s already shut the door and walking away. Not a man of many words, that’s for sure. Not that I am either, but… I shake my head, shift into reverse, and slowly back up to the last bay. If he doesn’t want to talk about his brother, I ain’t pushing. I remember all too well what happened the last time.
6
Dacen
Acouple of weeks later I’m hanging out at Evie’s house on a Friday afternoon. “Lunch is ready!” Evie calls out from the kitchen. The game of I-Spy that Ollie, Maddie, and I were playing is immediately forgotten. They’re off like race cars, smoke practically coming from their heels as they round the corner into the connected seating area.
“Wash your hands!” she reminds them, and they pivot to the sink. I help them get washed up, and then they head over to the table while I prop against the island counter in the middle of the kitchen.
Evie’s head is inside of a lower cabinet. “Thanks for keeping them entertained while I made lunch, Dacen.” Her voice is muffled but I catch the gist of it.
“Anytime. I love those two rugrats. We always have a blast.” From the living room, the small grandfather clock on the wall strikes on the hour and I count the number of clangs it makes. “Your mom should be home soon?”
“Yep, in just a few, and then I’m free.” Evie clears her throat and continues. “Speaking of which…” She gives me her scrunched nose cheesy toothy grin that always raises my suspicion. I quirk my eyebrow, just waiting. “It’s not too late to consider coming with me to the senior bash.” She gives me a hopeful look and pouts her lip. “Pretty, pretty please?”
I flop my head back and look at the ceiling. “Evieeee.” I groan. “I just really do not want another diner-like experience if Ryne and his friends are there. Practice is bad enough as it is.”
When Evie and I hung out the first time, I’d explained what happened with Ryne, the completely hot and completely moody asshole I, unfortunately, haven’t been able to get out of my mind since soccer camp, which feels like eons ago at this point, and his friends.
Evie grimaces a little and nods but quickly shakes her head. “You’ve gotta come. It’s like a rite of passage for all the seniors. It won’t be as epically amazing if you’re not there. Plus you’ll get to meet more people.”
I cringe when the pouty lip comes out again. My pointed stare does nothing to deter her. Instead of backing off, she doubles down by placing her palms together in a begging motion and makes her most angelic face.
