Page 31 of Dr. Stone (Billionaires’ Club #9)
TWENTY-SEVEN
Jace
A high-speed ride up the coast was exactly what this doctor needed after a long-ass weekend on call. Saturday—my so-called “day off”—hadn’t been nearly enough to recover.
By Monday evening, Jake, Collin, John, and I decided to burn out the stress the only way we knew how—aggressive throttle therapy on our Ducati bikes.
After a brutal stretch of hospital chaos, the open road was the cure.
Poor Cam Brandt wanted in, but the unlucky bastard was stuck on call for three straight nights in pediatrics.
As always, whoever got left behind just had to settle for our stories later.
John was the luckiest of us. With his wife also working OB, she could cover his shifts without breaking stride. The rest of us? We’d been ground down to bone and nerve.
The engines growled as we carved the last bend of Pacific Coast Highway, the ocean flashing like molten gold in our mirrors.
The four of us rode in perfect formation, a familiar rhythm since leaving the city behind.
When we finally pulled into The Sunset, that laid-back spot just outside Zuma, it felt like the best damn idea we’d had in months.
For a few precious miles, the bikes had burned the weight off our shoulders, leaving our heads clear, our bodies humming from adrenaline.
We rolled to the curb, parked side by side, and I killed the engine. Silence crashed in. I yanked off my helmet, and the salty air hit, warm and wild, blowing through my hair like freedom itself.
“Fuck, I feel alive again,” Collin said, his voice muffled by the helmet until he flipped up the visor. His blue eyes were sparking like he’d just come off an adrenaline high.
“You look like it, too,” I chuckled, swinging off my bike and steadying it on the kickstand.
“He looks like a man who just got laid,” John Aster added, already striding toward the entrance like the man never ran out of energy.
Jake smirked, falling in beside me. “Nah. Collin’s got a whole different face when that happens.”
“You wish you knew the look,” Collin fired back with a wink, finally tugging off his helmet and mussing his already wrecked hair.
“Quit trying to stay in the closet,” I teased. “Jake brags about it at work all the time.”
Collin gave him a friendly jab. “Glad my reputation made it to the cardiac wing, lover.”
The banter carried us up the steps, but it died the moment we stepped inside.
The Sunset always had a good vibe—string lights, firepits, the terrace stretching right into the ocean view.
Malibu’s usual crowd of influencers filled the bar, but it still managed to feel laid-back, the kind of place where we could catch our breath over steaks and beer.
The hostess locked eyes with me, then blinked as the other three heart-stoppers filed in behind. Her cheeks flushed pink and I almost laughed in response. For a second, I considered my old play—slipping her my number, chasing the invitation in her eyes. It would’ve been easy. It always was.
But that wasn’t me anymore.
Because damn, I was caught up with Andie. Hopelessly, inexplicably, completely. And the strangest fucking part? For the first time in my life, I didn’t want to chase anyone else.
“Table for four,” I said with a smile.
“Excellent.” The hostess flashed me a grin that should’ve sparked something. It didn’t. “Is the terrace okay tonight?”
“You read his mind,” John laughed softly. He knew me well—just not well enough to realize how much Andie had changed me.
“Follow me,” she said, menus tucked to her side as her tight hips led the way.
As we trailed behind, another woman at the bar caught my eye.
Her friends were mid-laugh, but she went still, staring at me like I was the punchline.
That had always been my game— my thing —the thrill of knowing I could reel a woman in with nothing more than a look.
But now? The only woman I wanted to charm with a look was spending an extravagant three-day weekend with Titus.
I’d done well avoiding the thought of them, trying not to stew over how the hell I could outmaneuver that bastard and move things forward with Andie.
But with my head finally free from the hospital grind, distraction was impossible.
Gorgeous women practically begging me to notice them weren’t enough.
They only reminded me of the tug-of-war Hawk and I were playing—and how much I needed to win.
“The waiter will be with you shortly,” the hostess said with a final flirty glance before disappearing back inside.
We shrugged off our leather jackets and draped them over our chairs, the terrace lights glowing warm against glass walls that blocked the ocean wind. Firepits flickered. Torches crackled. The place hummed with laid-back luxury. All I wanted now was a cold beer and a mountain of truffle fries.
“We need to do this more often,” Collin said. “Why the hell did we park those bikes for so long?”
“Maybe having a wife and kids had something to do with it,” Jake muttered, eyes still on the menu.
“Nah, don’t blame them,” I said, not even opening mine. I knew exactly what I wanted—truffle fries and a bloody steak. “You two just got soft and forgot how to thrive like you used to.”
Jake smirked while John added, “For me, there was no chance in hell I was riding all the way up here from our old place before we finally gave in and bought in Malibu.”
“What convinced Mick to ditch the cute Stepford town?” Collin asked, lifting his beer the second it hit the table.
“She loved the vibe whenever we came to your kids’ parties. Then Nat worked her magic—found us a beach place we couldn’t pass up. Now, we’re all fucking neighbors.”
I laughed, downing another gulp of beer. “Who’d have thought you and Sebastian would end up not just on the same shoreline, but the same zip code?” I’d known the brothers long enough to know no one had seen that coming.
Jake chuckled. “You think that’s a leap for the Asters?” He leaned back, smirk tugging like he was about to drop classified intel. “Jim told me something you bastards won’t believe?—”
And right on cue—like they trained servers to wait until the exact wrong moment—ours swooped in to take our order.
When they finally left, I leaned forward with my beer. “Alright, Jake. What bomb were you about to drop before we got ambushed?”
“Mom and Pop Aster are moving to the 90210.” Jake lifted his glass toward John, smirking. “Either they’ve finally unclenched and decided the West Coast life is better… or they’ve just upped the ante on their two rebellious trust-fund babies.”
John barked out a laugh while my jaw damn near hit the table. “You’re joking, right? Your parents giving up their East Coast throne for Malibu?”
“Not permanently,” John said, glancing between us. “They’ll keep the Park Avenue penthouses and the Hamptons estate. That’s still the mothership for their lifestyle—and for everyone who worships the ground they walk on.”
I shook my head, laughing. “This is the craziest shit I’ve ever heard. My dad’s been trying to drag yours out here for what—decades?”
“Since we could talk,” John said after a long sip of beer. “But the Stone and Aster names never landed on the same coast because God forbid their competition for value fucked up the friendship.”
Collin chuckled. “So now they’ve strolled straight into Jim Mitchell’s territory? That teddy bear knows when to use his claws.”
“It’s respect,” Jake said. “Jim’s not close with them, but he’s always kept enough distance to be useful, never a threat.”
“True,” I agreed. “My old man knows exactly where to keep Jim—close enough to leverage, far enough not to spar. But your dad?” I pointed at John. “Old man Aster doesn’t give a damn about lines.”
John leaned back, shaking his head. “Things are different now. Honestly, I think Mark gave our dad a nervous breakdown. Suddenly, he’s actually playing nice with Jim.”
Our food arrived and shut down the banter. We all dug into our meals, something I’d been looking forward to all day at work, and the reason I nearly forgot to change out of my scrubs and into my riding gear.
“So,” John said, in a way that got our attention, “what the hell is wrong with you these days?”
I eyed John. “Who?” I looked at the other men, wondering who he was talking to. “Me?”
“No, dumbfuck,” he answered with a grin, “the other guy who apparently doesn’t hit on all the chicks who are eye-fucking him when he walks into a restaurant.”
I frowned, “Nothing’s wrong with me.”
Jake and Collin chuckled, focused on their steaks and trying not to say anything, but my longer-than-usual silence prompted Jake to jump into the conversation first.
“He’s in love,” he said nonchalantly while taking a bite of his steak. He raised both his eyebrows while smiling and chewing to taunt me.
“In love?” John said, looking at me with the same shock I had on my face moments ago hearing the news about his parents purchasing a home out here.
“I’m not in fucking love. I barely know the woman.”
“That’s true,” Collin chimed in. “They started the usual way—you know, Jace hooking up with a girl and forgetting her by sunrise. But this one? That gorgeous goddess must’ve lassoed his balls and never let go because now he’s so damn head over heels, he’s doing ER visits with her kid, adopted a puppy for her, and…
” he trailed off, shooting a look at Jake to finish the story and highlight just how deep I was in with this woman.
“He’s allowing her to date Hawk while he sits on the sidelines,” Jake said, dramatically acting his part out.
“The fuck?” John dropped his knife and fork to each side of his plate and turned more to face me. “When did this happen?”
“Trust me,” I answered, “I can’t figure that shit out either.”
“You’re into a chick, and Hawk is too?” John asked with a smirk. “Fucking Titus—the guy who’s never had one woman for longer than a minute?”
“That’s the one,” I said, laughing at what a joke it all was.
“Homeboy here,” Collin said, pointing his fork in the direction of where I sat, “he’s playing shit safe. All while his lady spent the three days in Costa Rica with the man.”
He flashed me a when are you going to man up and handle your business kind of smile.
“He brought her to the grand opening of his new resort.”
“Why the hell are you sitting back here? Why aren’t you out there fighting for her? When did you suddenly become the kind of guy to play nice ?” John questioned.
“I don’t know, man. The whole thing has caught me by surprise. I don’t even recognize who I am right now. I’m not trying to be like this.”
“ Not and trying are the operative words here,” Jake said.
“And tonight, it all ends,” he cleared his throat and glanced at his watch.
“When we’re done here, we’re heading to my place in Malibu, where Andie should be arriving to pick her kid and dog up in a couple hours or so.
We’ll act like you had bike trouble or something, and from there, you’re going to get your ass in gear and seal this deal. ”
“That’s exactly what you’re going to do,” Collin said, sharp enough to shut me up.
“Perhaps you’d like to meet the lovely lady who owns your friend’s balls?” Collin suggested with a laugh.
“Be ye warned,” Jake said, somewhat annoyed. “The fucking bark factory this chump adopted for Andie is a little dickhead.”
“Hey, now,” I said.
Jake rolled his eyes, “He hates men! I have no other way to describe it. Every time I walk into a room where he is with Ash and the kids, all he does is rain down barking hell all over me.”
“What kind of dog is it?” John chuckled.
“A bitch-ass yapping hoe, that’s what kind,” Jake said, all of us laughing at how annoyed he was with dog-sitting this weekend.
“A teacup Yorkie,” I said as Jake rolled his eyes.
John laughed. “Oh, hell. You’re screwed.
“Oh, fuck is right,” Collin added. “The smaller the dog, the more obnoxious the yap,” he laughed again and looked at me. “You’re fucked unless you get that boy to respect your ass.”
“A couple of rounds of obedience training wouldn’t hurt, I’m sure,” I said.
“We’ll see about that,” Jake chuckled. “All right, let’s wrap this shit up and get this fucker reunited with his girl so they can take that annoying ass dog out of my house.”
I was excited to go to Jake’s tonight. Enough sitting on the sidelines in this mess. I needed to see for myself how Andie looked and how she felt after that glamorous weekend with Titus. I had to know if I still had a shot at this or if it was time to walk away with whatever self-esteem I had left.