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For a long moment Bricker just looks at me, eyes searching my face, mouth half-open. Then he huffs and turns away, raking both hands through his hair. “You’re not wrong. So get moving, Pedretti,” he says. “Time for a team bonding session.”
* * *
I can barely keep my thoughts on target as I sit with the crew in their usual watering hole. It’s a full table: Van sits opposite Bricker; Jazz, Tank and Pony talk cars; and Rook, Giddy and Nico all compete for Honeybee’s attention. Rook is stuck between me and Bricker, making it harder for him—but truth be told, I think Honeybee made her choice a while back. She reserves her sweetest smiles for Nico.
Despite the laughter and the clinking of glasses around me, all I can think about is how close Bricker is to me, just this other side of Rook, his presence impossible to ignore. His laughter echoes in my ears, mixing with memories of our heated encounter, making it difficult to focus.
“Hey, Nico,” Jazz calls out, raising her glass in a mock toast. “Congrats on finally getting to play with the big kids, by the way.” She smirks, and the others chuckle, but Nico just grins proudly.
“About time Bricker let me show what I’m made of,” he replies, trying to sound like a big man for Honeybee’s benefit.
“Let’s just hope you don’t get stage fright when the curtain goes up,” Giddy smirks, taking a sip of his beer.
“You wanna stay in the van with me,” Pony says. He’s annoyed about the change, arguing more than once that he can’t pay attention to the scanner and play lookout at the same time. “Safer for everyone, kid.”
“Come on, give him a break!” Honeybee pipes up. “Nico will be amazing.”
Rook and Giddy snort, but they don’t contradict Honeybee’s assessment, I notice. As for Nico, he can’t wait to turn back to her, flipping the bird at Pony before he does. I watch Honeybee and Nico’s interaction with a small smile.
Lucky kids. Life is uncomplicated for them.
“Hey, Max! Scoot over,” Rook says in my ear. I let him out of the bench seat so he can move down closer to Honeybee, leaving an empty space next to me, and due to the shuffling and resettling of the crew, Bricker has to slide into it.
“Make room, I guess,” Bricker says as he presses up next to me, his tone light but strained. Our bodies are snug against each other, the crowded table not allowing for personal space. I feel the warmth of his thigh against mine and my mind helpfully supplies a memory of his hot skin moving against mine as I kissed him. He was like a furnace; we both were, on fire for each other—
I take a long drink of my beer and try to think about something else. Anything else.
“Rook,” Bricker calls across me, and now it’s even worse, because his face is so close, “you better not be drinking those goddamn energy drinks on the day.”
“Come on, Bricker,” Rook grins, “they’re all healthy and shit!”
“Kid’s gonna have a heart attack before he’s twenty-five,” Bricker grumbles, taking a swig of his beer.
I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, watching as his throat works to swallow. “Aren’t you just on twenty-five yourself?”
He looks at me like he knows exactly what I’m really asking. “I’m twenty-eight,” he says at last.
What’s that thing I heard once about acceptable age gaps? Half my age plus, what, seven? So that would make it…
Shit. Still at least three years short.
Focus, Pedretti. Get a grip.
“Twenty-eight, huh? Okay, grandpa,” I say, trying to shake off my thoughts. “Well, Rook’s young; he can handle the sugar.”
“Easy for you to say,” Bricker huffs, “you’re not the one who has to deal with him when he’s bouncing off the walls.”
“Apparently I am,” I counter. “Since I’ll be on the dance floor during this upcoming party.” I know why Bricker wants me on the bank floor with Giddy and Rook and now Nico, too. He thinks I’ll keep them calm while the job goes down, make sure neither they nor any innocents get hurt. That’smyplan, certainly, and I like that Bricker is smart enough to use me that way.
Bricker just raises an amused eyebrow, but the spark in his eyes suggests he enjoys our banter.
Our thighs remain pressed together beneath the table, a constant reminder of just how close we are. But Bricker is still angry with me, and I can’t let myself forget that. This bank job, it’s crucial—and not only for the Esposito Family. If the crew can hit PacSyn where it hurts, that’s good for the Castellanis, too. So I need to prove my loyalty to Bricker, to the Espositos, even if it means staying offline with my own Boss.
Even if it means denying my own desires.
Every time our eyes meet, I picture a rubber band stretched to its limit. And then I catch Delligatti eyeing us with a mix of curiosity and concern, and I stare hard into my drink, hoping he doesn’t ask any questions.
“Weather was good today,” Bricker eventually says, breaking the silence between us. His voice is stilted, the conversation forced. Good weather in LA is hardly something to comment on. But I suppose the crew will notice something if we sit here ignoring each other.
