Page 63 of The Best Shot

Carter looked offended. “I understood the book.”

“You thought the first three chapters were a setup for a turf war.”

“There was tension.”

“There was dick,” Annie corrected.

More laughter.

The discussion dissolved from there.

Annie slid out of the reading nook to dig through the snacks again, and Havoc lifted his head at the sound of a Slim Jim wrapper.

“Absolutely not,” Grant told him. Havoc sighed and put his head back down.

Ava refilled her drink and stayed leaning beside Tabby, the two of them falling into their own side conversation.

Yasmine stood to toss her empty bottle. When she drifted back toward the circle, she didn’t return to her chair, but dropped into the one beside me instead. She reached for my beer before she’d even settled all the way, took a sip and made a face. “Terrible.”

“It’s an IPA.”

“I know what it is.”

I took the bottle back from her. “I’ll try to be more considerate with the beer you steal from me.”

“That’s all I ask.”

I smiled and looked back toward the others.

The conversation kept rolling without us. Carter and Annie were arguing about whether obsession was romantic or a red flag, with Ava jumping in just to stir the pot. Nico looked relieved that people were at least still talking about the book, even if the thing had long since slipped its leash.

Beside me, Yasmine tucked one leg under herself and kept her eyes on the group. Then, quiet enough that nobody else could hear, she said, “You coming over later?”

I tapped my knee to hers. “You asking about my stamina, Ms. Valentine?”

Her mouth twitched. “I’m asking if I should leave the door unlocked.”

“Leave it unlocked.”

She reached for my bottle again and took another drink. So much for not liking it.

Nico’s eyes were on us. So I cut left, nodding at the tabs in his book. “What are all those for?”

“Notes,” Nico said. “For Tabby.”

“For Tabby,” I repeated.

“Inspiration.”

Carter laughed. “If you need tabs for that, you’re already in trouble.”

“He really isn’t,” Tabby called from across the room.

Grant shook his head. “We’re reading a biography next time.”

“No we’re not,” Carter said. “We’re reading book two.”

It was technically someone else’s turn to pick, but no one argued.