Page 65 of Shattered Pieces

“Skeet? Sure,” Marco chuckled. “He got into a scuffle with Ty on Monday, and a pretty solid fight with Jensen too. Your little rich boys have anger issues, you know?”

“Wait, Skeet fought them? Are they hurt?” I demanded, wishing I could climb through the phone to check myself.

“Just scrapes and bruises. In Skeet’s defense, Ty taunted him until he snapped, and Jensen threw the first punch in their fight. Ty’s broken nose was me, not Skeet.”

“Why the fuck did you break his nose?”

“We were just playing. Right, Ty? It was for funsies,” he insisted, and Tyler grunted in response but didn’t agree with him.

“They’re fine, if not humbled,” Hunter said dryly. “Was D okay? I haven’t seen him since Monday.”

“He seemed to be. Keep an eye on him for me?”

“You know I have eyes on everyone, babe,” he chuckled, and I glanced at the time to see it was getting late. “Hey, I need to go. I’ll call you tomorrow. Love you, Ty.”

“Love you too, baby!” Tyler called out, and Marco said something about my ass before Hunter sighed, taking me off speakerphone. Well, I assumed he did because the background noise vanished.

“You and Lex been good?” he asked.

“Yeah, we’re besties now. She’s been fussing over my wounds,” I huffed, glancing around to see no one around, other than the guard. “You’ll come and visit next week?”

“We will. Say hi to Lex for me. Be safe,” he murmured, and I said goodbye before hanging up and calling Diesel next.

It took him a minute to answer, but he sounded unsure when he did.

“Rory?”

“Sorry, do I look clingy?” I asked awkwardly, hearing his huff of laughter.

“No, I just wasn’t expecting you to call today. Everything okay?”

I toyed with the phone cord, blowing out a breath. “Yeah. I was just doing the rounds and thought I’d call you too. What are you doing?”

“Just at home watching TV.”

“You asked me on a date today, right? Or did you mean as friends?” I blurted out, making him pause.

“What did you want it to be?” he finally asked, and I grinned.

“A date. You sure you’re not too old for me?”

“Donovan, don’t go there,” he grumbled, making me laugh.

“It’s okay, we can have you home for bed by eight, old man,” I teased, a scoff leaving him.

“You’ll pay for that.”

“Promise?”

“I forgot you’re a masochist,” he deadpanned, clearing his throat when I giggled.

“I think that’s a conversation for another day.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing here, I just know I like spending time with you,” he murmured, and I wished I could see his face.

“I’m a professional at winging things. We’ll figure it out as we go,” I replied, changing the subject to talk about dinner instead when I sensed the conversation getting a little too serious for him.

We talked until cut off time, and I went to bed a lot happier now I’d spoken to everyone in one day.