Page 101 of Saints & Sailors

“Bonham?” Danny repeated curiously.

It was strange when I thought about it. Before, it would’ve made sense to the guys my friendship or more with Bonham. He was all I ever liked in LA. Now, here I was crushing on a baseball star who stayed inside the lines.

“He’s this guy from school. He has a shit reputation, but he’s a really good guy,” I explained. “We hung out late one night and I didn’t call or come home and Scott flipped out.”

Danny peered over at Scott. “What’s his story?”

Even if I was still getting to know Scott, I felt protective of him. I cared about him. “He made a mistake and fucked up. He’s just trying to make it right.”

Danny watched me. “You want that?”

The old me, the stubborn me, would’ve brushed the thought of my father off. But there was no denying the warmth in my chest whenever I found something in common with Scott. The way I liked the reality that my father was pretty fucking cool. It didn’t erase the past, but he was here now and he was trying.

“Yes,” I said softly. “I like having a father. Especially one like Scott.”

Sensing the touchiness of the subject, Danny stepped closer and offered me a hug. “As long as you’re happy and safe, Say. We’re all just a phone call away.”

I clung close to him. “I don’t know if I’m coming back. I like it here, but I miss my mom and you guys.”

Danny pulled away and jabbed my shoulder, giving me a half smile. God, we were such saps. “Miss you more.” He stared off at the others before coming back to me. “But this feels like you’ve found your place. Like you were meant to be here. You seem grounded.”

“I am. I got a job at Dreux’s mom’s salon. She’s kinda intense so that helps,” I joked. Angela, like Scott, was someone you didn’t want to piss off. I could tell from our first interaction. I was hoping in time she’d lighten up and warm up to me. Especially if things went somewhere with Dreux.

“Dreux, huh?” Danny said, a brow raised. “What’s up with that? Since when do you hang out with the captain of the football team?”

To that I had to laugh. There was no mistaking Dreux for anything other than an athlete, even if he was deeper into music and knew Hemingway quotes. “He plays baseball, actually, smartass.”

“Still.” Danny shrugged. “Since when has that been your thing?”

Since I was obsessed with the way he looked at me. The way he touched me. Since he was different than everyone else. “I didn’t plan on it happening, but it did. He’s not like the guys I’m used to. He’s nice, good, sweet.”

Danny being Danny didn’t look swayed. Not after Kevin. But he was just protective that way. “Good guys can break hearts, too. So be careful.” He tugged me close one final time. “If he hurts you, I’ll kick his ass.”

I only smiled because something deep down told me Dreux wasn’t the hurting type, even if it was a big risk getting involved with him.

Scott was placing a tray of burgers on the table when we joined them.

I grabbed my hot dog and sat next to Jack.

“You in a band, Scott?” Danny wanted to know.

“I play bass in a Pink Floyd cover band,” Scott responded. He helped himself to a burger, choosing beef, and adding cheese and condiments.

Ian raised his can of soda in solidarity. “Pink Floyd’s the shit!”

“Any original bands?” Danny wondered.

“I’ve been in a few,” Scott mentioned. “The very first one was a punk band.”

Jack chuckled. “It’s always a punk band.”

“Always a punk band,” Scott agreed with no shame. “It’s a rite of passage. When you’re young you think you know everything.”

None of us could argue that. At times we all felt we knew what we were doing despite our parents’ best efforts to guide us.

“Any of you play?” Scott asked next.

Jack laughed and Ian and Danny followed suit.