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“What? Five years past eighteen?” Nolan peers over at me and smirks. “Hey, Oliver, you think Benny is working up to go cougar on us?”
Laughing, I reply, “Seeing as he’s on his way to fucking the full spectrum of girls in their twenties, I do indeed think he’s secretly working his way up to thirty.”
“Small steps,” Nolan says.
“Fuck you,” Benny interjects. “You’re both dickheads.”
I put up my hands. “Hey, don’t be pissed at me. Take it up with Nolan. He started with the jokes. I only brought up the chick’s age for your own protection. I’m always looking out for you, buddy.”
“Yeah, you usually are,” he concedes. “And thanks for that.” He shoots me an apologetic grin. “You really are a good kid at heart.”
I shrug, feeling a little self-conscious at being called a kid. But then I see what Benny is up to, preparing to bust my balls.
Sure enough, the next words out of his mouth are “You do know I meankidin a good kind of way. Like maybe”—he smirks—“agolden boysort of style.”
“Ha. Ha,” I retort. And since he’s enjoying yanking my chain far too much, I shoot him the bird. “Shut the fuck up, man.”
Benny may give me a hard time, but his underlying sentiment is genuine. What he said about me being a good guy, like a decent person, is true. Despite all the craziness of late, I want nothing but the best for my friends. And just because I’ve been fucking up my own life lately doesn’t mean Benny’s and Nolan’s lives have to go down the shitter too.
Really, I probably should’ve never invited them to Minnesota. I should have come up to the lake house by myself. That would’ve been the smart thing to do, especially if my intention all along has been to piss away my career.
I don’t really want that, though, do I?
No.
I just need some help in getting back on track.
But where would I find something like that?
Ah, fuck it.
“So what do you say, Benny?” I ask, back to focusing on the party. “You in?”
He stretches, covering his dick with the pillow I threw at him. I make a mental note to have all my furnitureandtheir decorative accents, especially the pillows, steam cleaned.
Running his hand through his shaggy, dark blond hair, he says, “Am I in for what?”
“Party tonight,” Nolan interjects in his usual no-nonsense tone. “One last blowout, and then Brent here says we’re stopping with the bad behavior.”
I have to laugh. Nolan is only three years older than me, but it’s like he’s twenty-five going on forty. He’s the voice of reason in our crew.
Well, most of the time.
Not today, though. No, today he agrees to go all-out.
With the party plans full steam ahead, we get on our phones, texting and calling everyone we know.
“Tonight we party hard,” I declare when we reconvene in the living room.
“Yeah,” Nolan says, holding up a freshly opened bottle of beer.
“You mean hell, yeah,” Benny corrects, raising the full shot glass in his hand.
“Hell, yeah,” I echo, a beeranda shot on the table in front of me. “And just so we’re clear,” I add. “Tomorrow we give up the booze and the women. Tomorrow we start training for real.”
The boys agree, and we drink to our plan.
Yeah, tomorrow we’ll do all those things…
