What stands out to me the most is how I have hardly even opened my phone since I gave it to her that first time. She’s clearly been managing things for me and Brady. I haven’t even texted my mom, much less let anyone else know anything. So she sent my family back to Illinois, and I had no fucking clue. “Okay. Fine. We’ll do it. Tell Stretch Armstrong he’s hosting some refugees.”
“Thank you.”
I wrap her in a hug, unable to express that it’s me who should be thanking her, so all I can do is hope she can feel my gratitude and infer all the things I don’t say when all I get out is a gruff “love you.”
Easton shoots us a small, reserved smile when we come back into his room. Those damn dimples pop out. He’s changed into normal clothes: sweats and a hoodie. Both of which I’ve never seen, so I’m assuming Landon bought them. It’s amazing, the difference seeing him out of that paper gown makes. The bruises are a bit lighter, but he’s still moving slowly, nursing various aches and pains.
Brady is watching him like a hawk, looking for the first sign that he is unsteady. Normally something I’d be doing. The desire to is there, but something holds me back—keeps me at a distance that I have no hope of dismantling in this place.
Blakely claps her hands together. “Good news, friends. You’re all three coming to stay with me for the time being. It’s going to be great!”
Easton looks the least shocked, making me wonder if he’s already considered it or she talked to him first. Brady only shrugs.
“Careful, everyone can’t jump up and down at once,” she mutters sardonically. “It will be fun.”
“It’ll be great. Just like the last time you stayed with us for an extended amount of time and almost bankrupt yourself on fudge ice cream cones,” I remind her, causing her to roll her eyes.
“Well, it’s not like that’s going to happen again. Not unless one of you decides to send me over the edge.” She looks pointedly between me and Brady. “Excluding you, of course, sweet pea,” she concedes to Easton.
He blushes, always so shy in the spotlight. It’s most certainly not endearing. I knew from the jump that Easton and Blakely could be really good friends. He’s exactly her type when it comes to companionship. Snarky, but still sweet. Funny, but awkward. And we all know how Blake feels about someone that needs people. With all that being said, the circumstances of their friendship developing could have gone really fucking bad. Her just being there after he woke up from a coma induced by an overdose was, admittedly, a recipe for disaster knowing Easton. Or any rational person, really.
But it’s not like that at all, and I, for one, am completely confused. Don’t get me wrong, it’s great. She’s my friend, so no one could sing her praises like me, but I was expecting push back. Embarrassment, maybe. I don’t know. Something other than these shared looks I keep catching, and the trust he’s giving her that I had to fight tooth and nail for.
Okay, that was toxic. I can admit that.
It’s good that he’s bonding with her, and I’m not even slightly jealous because that would be dumb. Easton is gay and Blakely is a woman.
Someone sedate me, please.
After Easton’s been discharged and our merry band of misfits has made stops at our place for clothes and takeout for lunch, we head over to Blake’s while I try not to gape at the amount of foodshe ordered, sitting in between me and Brady. “Are we preparing a family of bears for hibernation?”
She scoffs. “That ain’t shit. You should see how much the whole team can eat. I still have nightmares from handling the catering for one barbeque. Never again.”
“No, thanks. Remember that flirty redhead that hung around you senior year? Yeah, that one taught me I can’t afford to feed basketball players, and I haven’t forgotten.”
Blake coos and Brady chuckles. “Jeremiah. I miss him. Easily my favorite player to tutor.”
I snort. “He was a mouthy little shit. It’s no wonder he took to you.”
Easton raises an eyebrow at me in the rearview mirror. “Why do I feel like I know how this ends?”
Heat crawls up my neck, but the traitor next to me laughs. “That’s exactly how it ended, Eas.”
The teasing and seeing Easton acting more like himself makes me smile. As hard as I try to squash the little kernel of hope it gives me, it persists. I just want him to be okay. Maybe he can be again. Maybe going to Blake’s is the right choice. If it gives him a little peace of mind and ability to sort through whatever got him to the place that he felt like there was only one way out of. Worth it would be putting it mildly.
Landon is waiting for Blake outside, because why would we be normal about this. Ever. Not with these people. He comes around to open her door and swallow her tonsils, apparently. “Gross,” I announce to no one in particular.
Easton bails out of the car, and I’m not even a second behind him, abandoning Brady and running for my own life.Put your mask on yourself then help others, or whatever. He’s a smarter man than me because he remembered the food at least. “Dear god. Could they warn people before they do that shit?” Bradyasks under his breath as we clamor into the house, attempting to save our innocence. Also, our appetites.
Easton giggles and it’s the most wonderful sound I’ve heard in weeks. “It’s kind of cute, in a run-for-your-lives kind of way.”
“Heavy on the last part,” I agree.
Brady marches straight to the kitchen and starts opening cabinets. “If they think I’m waiting on them, they’re going to be disappointed because I’m starving and it’s been forever since we’ve gotten anything from this place.”
I join the search, finding plates while he looks for utensils.
“Yeah, because you’ve been caught up doing other shit. Not worried about getting your dick wet.”
