Easton looks like Vega just told him to play right field. “Fuck, tell me you’re at least sleeping with this best friend of your sister’s.”
“Here we go. Peeper’s, remember?” Decker thumbs in the direction of the bar.
I narrow my eyes, offended that Easton thinks I need to be getting laid to do something nice for a woman. “Why would you say that?”
“Because you’ve been totally preoccupied with this woman. You barely go out with us anymore. I’m assuming you’re doing all this to get in her pants.”
“Sorry, am I not showing you enough love? You’ll always have a place in my heart.” I cover my heart with my hand.
“I’d better. You were lucky to get me the first time. Second time you have to work for it.” Easton’s cocky grin is prominent.
Decker shakes his head at Easton. “I think it’s nice that you’re doing this for her.”
Of course he does, because Decker is known as the nice guy of baseball. He rarely talks shit about anyone, even though he’s probably got the most dirt. Since he’s so quiet, people feel comfortable saying shit in front of him.
“She’s my sister’s best friend. My sister asked me to help out.”
“Why didn’t you say so? I’d do it for Callie too.” Easton waggles his eyebrows.
“Would you stop? I’m not one of those brothers who’s gonna be pissed off if one of my friends date her, but I don’t really know if I want her dating you.”
“Shit, man, that hurts.” He puts a hand over his heart and stumbles back. “I’m just a baseball player looking for a girl to change me.”
Decker snickers.
“Callie’s not that girl,” I deadpan.
“Says who?” Decker and I both give Easton a look, and he scoffs. “All right, so maybe I’m not ready to settle down yet, but I don’t think I should be getting judgment from either one of you. I don’t see a ring on any of your fingers.”
He’s got me there.
“This has been fun, but my Uber’s here.” I walk over to the dark car pulling up to the curb.
My hand is on the door handle when Easton says, “Deck, we got nothing going on. Why don’t we go get our nails done?”
“Works for me.” Decker’s already at my back.
“This isn’t a group outing.” I don’t open the door, purposely keeping them out.
“That’s mean-girl behavior.” Easton looks around, baffled as to why nobody would want him in the car. “And my nails are hideous. What about you, Deck?”
“My cuticles are way overgrown,” he says.
I glance at my watch. I need to go. “Fucking hell—let’s go. But you’re not staying the whole time.”
“We’ll make sure to be gone when it’s time for Leighton to play with the nanny.” Decker slides in as soon as I open the door.
“The manny,” Easton jokes, going right after him.
“Shut up or we’re dropping you off at the next corner.” I slip in last, the three of us wedged in the back seat like sardines.
Once we’re driving and the driver confirms where we’re going, Easton tries to unwedge his shoulder to shift and look at me. “Tell me more about this National Days calendar. This seems like something I could be into.”
I give him the gist of Monroe’s goal for the year, and I honestly feel as though he’s going to print out a calendar and check off the items himself, because his interest is way too piqued. If he thinks I’m going to be doing cartwheels with him on the baseball field for Cartwheel Day, he’s wrong.
We pull up to the house, and I spot, Lillian, on the porch with her purse tucked over her shoulder, Monroe and Lincoln sitting on the front steps.
“Who’s the evil Mary Poppins?” Decker mumbles.
