So he’s been a SEAL longer than you...? That finally unblocked the conversational dam as she realized Dave was willing to share factual info. As opposed to answering How much harder does your heart beat when he smiles at you and takes your hand?
So okay. Luc “Rio” Rosetti grew up in a big Italian-American family in one of the boroughs of New York City—possibly Brooklyn, but Dave couldn’t quite remember which, probably since he’d only visited New York three times in his life and Brooklyn, the Bronx, and Queens could blur together to an out-of-towner.
When Luc was a kid, he’d gone to a sleepover summer camp in New England, where he’d fallen in love with being out in nature. He had four sisters, most of them older, and a boatload of cousins. His parents were both still alive. He had a rather exceptional singing voice, and his mother had wanted him to attend Berklee School of Music in Boston, but he’d wanted to be a SEAL, so he joined the Navy instead.
And no, Dave had not yet met Luc’s family—well, he’d met exactly one cousin—because this relationship was still extremely new.
But you really like him, Casey had tried, and Dave had seemingly agreed with “We’ve been friends for a while.”
In hindsight, that wasn’t really an answer, but another emotion-free fact.
Still, before they returned to the table where Luc hadn’t yet killed Jon, Casey managed to tell Dave, “I’m sorry I’ve been so single-minded about you and Jon. I’ll do better, I promise.”
Dave laughed a little and hugged her swiftly before sliding down into the seat next to Luc with a whispered, “Oh man, I’m sorry, are you okay?”
Luc gave him one of his obviously trademark soul-melting smiles. “We’re doing great. In fact, Jon was just going to tell me all about rehab, and how he’s taking it seriously this time—because it’s not his first time in a program, right, bro?” He looked over at Jon for confirmation.
So, okay, the fistfight was going to happen now. Casey knew, for a fact, that rehab was the dead last thing Jon would want to discuss in front of Dave’s new boyfriend.
Except Jon didn’t flip the table. He just laughed a little as he stayed seated and smiled back at Luc. “No, it’s actually the... well, what is it, Case? Three? Or maybe four—I think I might be missing one.”
“No, it’s three,” she answered. “You left two, but you went back for a few days before you...”
“Quit for good,” Jon finished for her. “That’s right. Yeah.”
“So, third time’s a charm?” Luc said.
“No,” Jon said, “Well, yes, obviously, because it was the third time, but... It was less about it being number three and more about it being the right time in my life, about hitting what I hope was the bottom and... well, choosing to try to live. For the first time, I honestly want this. And I’m willing to do the work.”
Casey had heard much of this before in the family sessions she’d attended at Blue Mountain, in the days before Jon’s release. It still felt a little like a canned response—like a memorized talking point. Here’s what you say if you want people to believe you’re sincere about your sobriety—just before you steal a bottle of bourbon from their liquor cabinet.
And okay, maybe that was unkind, but she’d trusted her brother before.
Too many times.
For Dave, though, this was brand spanking new. And Jon’s quiet words obviously made him uncomfortable—maybe because it seemed too little, too late. Maybe because he honestly didn’t care anymore—he was with Luc now—although hearing this probably made him want to leap to his feet, to run away.
Which he did. Leap to his feet, that is. “Excuse me,” he said. “I’m...” He made a vague motion toward the restrooms.
Luc stood, too. “Want me to...?”
“No.” Dave was already gone.
And... scene. Except there was no assistant director on hand to shout Cut! No one to put a wrap on this interaction and hustle them to the next location, with a quick stop at the craft table for a bottle of water and a healthy snack.
Instead, Casey and her shithead brother and Dave’s adorable boyfriend all just looked at each other, like the trio of idiots that they were.
She and Luc were both still on their feet, so she held out a hand to him. “Dance?” She’d made it a question but she didn’t give him any time to say no. Instead she grabbed his hand and pulled him with her toward the dance floor.
Chapter Five
Rio was dancing with Casey freaking Esparza.
Outside of what insane fever dream was this ever going to happen?
Although, sure, Dave had played countless games of Risk and Super Mario Kart and kickball with Casey—at least Rio imagined that his teammate’s childhood hadn’t been too different from his own. Lots of games—both board and video—and endless physical playtime, running wild in the nearest park.
That meant that in this bizarro-world scenario—the one in which Dave had lost Irkutsk to Casey’s armies at least once back when they were twelve or thirteen—the idea that Rio had ended up at the wedding of two strangers, on the dance floor with one of his favorite TV stars made perfect bizarro-world sense.
