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CHAPTER EIGHT

carter

“Hey, man.”

Declan smiles as he throws open the door, smacking his hand into mine. He pulls me in and I clap him on the back, peering into the beauty that is his new home.

Penny pokes her head up from the couch as we climb the stairs.

I love that damn couch. I begged him to sell it to me if he wasn’t going to bring it from the condo, but he told me I’d have to pry it from his cold, dead hands.

It's the best couch on earth. I’ve crashed on that thing more times than my own damn bed.

Dec’s girl smiles, lifting her hand to wave, alerting the attention of her furry friends who are surrounding her.

Lowesy claims he’s a dog dad. I beg to differ. He just lives here. These dogs would let him burn in a fire if that meant Penny got out unscathed. I literally think they would sacrifice him if it meant not a single strand of hair got burnt on Penny’s head.

The brown one lifts his head, sizing me up like I’m a threat.

Then, the big, fluffy one that looks like a teddy bear joins him.

I can’t see the little one, but I know she’s in her mama’s lap.

I hear her giving a warning growl, alerting me that the most terrifying beast is the one that remains unseen.

“Hey, Sweets!” I call.

I can only see her eyes above the cushion, but I can tell she’s smiling. “How are you doing, Forker?”

“All sunshine and rainbows over here.”

“So, what’s up?” Declan asks, leaning against the large, sage-green island. “Want a beer?”

“Sure.” I nod, and he turns to the fridge. “I just stopped by because I’ve got to ask you something, and I don’t want it to be weird, but I feel like it will be if I don’t bring it up.”

Lowesy slowly closes the door to the fridge, his expression seeping into one of concern. He pops open both lids off the beer and takes a few, hesitant steps toward me. I don’t wait for him to say anything, and I don’t offer a word either; I just take the drink from him without further explanation.

“Let’s go to the balcony.”

I nod, following him out. He gently massages Penny’s head as he passes, and as a joke, I do the same. Her big, cackling laughter is worth it, even when that little chihuahua mix goes apeshit because I touched her mom.

Declan closes the balcony door behind us.

He’s got a new patio furniture set out here, and that alone makes me want to sell my own condo and get a house.

They’ve made this balcony a damn resort.

It’s lush as hell and impeccably cozy. There’s a small bar in the corner, fairy lights hanging from every surface, and a giant fire pit table tucked right in the heart of it all.

It’s sick. This is so much more of a home than his penthouse had been.

“What’s going on?” he asks, dropping onto the patio sofa.

I sigh, running a hand over my face. I take a seat on the opposite side of the couch and meet his eyes. He looks worried. I might not have really led the conversation on the right foot, but I’m hoping he’ll be relieved the second I start talking.

I’ve been losing sleep over this for days now.

“Remember that chick?”

Declan’s brows skyrocket. “Oh, that chick? Yeah, she was great. Loved her stance on climate change.”

He shoots me a look the second he’s done talking.

Awful start and an even worse follow-up, Forker.

“Right,” I grumble. “The redhead. You and Sweets were going through all of that shit. She came back here with us. Her and her friends. Boston was here, too.”

Declan’s face flashes with recollection. “Oh, you’re talking about Arden?”

“Yeah,” I say, wondering why I didn’t just ask for her name. Maybe subconsciously, I was hoping he didn’t remember it. “Arden.”

Pretty name. Pretty girl.

“What about her?” he asks carefully.

To break the icy awkwardness I feel in my chest, I do what I do best and start cracking jokes. I’m treading through real weird, brother-husband territory right now, and nobody wants to tune into that reality show.

“I met her in a bar the other night. Some idiot was giving her a hard time. We got to talking. I punched that idiot’s face in because he grabbed her ass.”

I say it flippantly to lighten the mood. Like he wasn’t already completely aware of the story. Didn’t pick my ass up from jail, or anything.

Why am I so uncomfortable? I feel like I’m asking someone’s dad for permission to marry them.

This shouldn’t be a big deal. They didn’t even sleep together, did they?

I’m fucking thirty-two, I shouldn’t have to worry about hurting friends over a chick.

Shit, why would I even entertain the idea of spending time with someone who has a history with one of my boys? My best buddy?

Even for something like this. What the hell am I doing?

“Oh, wow,” Declan says, face falling. “That was Arden?”

“Yeah.” I should just tell him to forget it. I don’t need to do this, not at his expense.

He nods slowly. “Alright, well. That’s probably a good thing.”

Is it? What does that mean?

“Look, I know she came home with you that night. I don’t really know the details of what happened there, or what happened after. I wanted to ask her to go along with this whole thing for me, but I won’t cross that line if you don’t want me to.”

Declan stares at me for a second before slowly breaking into a grin. He shakes his head, bringing his beer back to his lips. “Forker, are you asking me if you can pursue some fake relationship with a chick I brought home, never slept with, and never spoke to again?”

I stare at him.

Well, when he puts it like that, it sounds dumb.

“Yes?”

Declan bursts out laughing, reaching forward to slap his hand on my leg. He shakes me roughly. “You’re too good of a guy, you know that?”

“Well, not really,” I admit, shaking my head. “I can’t guarantee she’ll ever talk to me again. But I’m going to try. Which brings me to my next question. Do you have her number?”

“Oh. You don’t even know her?”

I know her plenty. Almost slept with you, has an attitude the size of a small planet, and hates the nickname ‘Red’ .

“I know her well enough. Her name is Arden.”

“You know that because I just told you that. ”

“Semantics.” I wave him off.

He watches me carefully. “Why wouldn’t she speak to you again?”

I just shrug.

His smile slowly fades, and he straightens in his seat. “What did you do? Besides breaking someone’s nose?”

Shouldn’t breaking the nose be enough?

“Nothing. I just want the chance to undo it.”

Why did I say that? I’m going to have to admit what I said to piss her off before shit went ass up, and he’s going to realize I used him as the jab.

“Right,” Dec says slowly. He sighs, reaching into the pocket of his joggers and pulling out his phone.

With a look of warning, he hands it to me, and I see her name staring back at me like a beaming light of hope.

“You’re lucky I broke my phone that night and acted like an idiot.

I was scared she was going to go to the press, so I kept her number. ”

I am barely listening as I copy the number into my own phone.

I feel better having it in my possession.

I know it’s nothing, but it’s enough to give me some foolish hope that this will all work out in the end, and my name will still be printed on the back of black and yellow jerseys for years to come.

“Did you hear me?”

I snap my eyes up to his. “Yeah. You punched your phone or something.”

He cocks a brow. “My point is, I don’t know what you did, but if you need her help, I’d say to give that apology a good shot. She never sold that story anywhere. She wore my clothes home and never posted them online. She’s a decent chick, Fork.”

Decent isn’t a good enough word.

She’s feisty, she seems funny, and obviously, she’s ridiculously hot.

That’s how I wound up in this position, after all.

I have dreamt about that mouth a few times now and I haven’t even tasted it.

She’s also decent, on top of all that, which is a good quality to look for in this business.

She could have made a lot of money from selling that story about Dec.

She had his clothes to prove it.

She didn’t. Because she’s decent.

I’m hoping she’s decent enough to hear me out, too.