“You’re late.” Lucas took a long sip of his beer and peered at me over the glass. “Thirty-one minutes and ten seconds late, but really, who’s counting? I thought I was going to get stood up.”
“Sorry,” I rasped, waving down the waitress. “Traffic was hell and I was—” Embarrassment washed over me. What? Checking the backseat just in case someone was hiding in my car? Irrational fear number two. Or making sure that nothing fell from my visor? Irrational fear number three. Or—and this is the best part—double-checking because I still didn’t trust that I really didn’t see anything lingering on the leather of my backseat.
I was going to kill Austin.
The list Avery wrote was long.
Extensive.
I’d studied it for a good hour and come to the conclusion that I was doomed to live in a constant state of paranoia until she was satisfied.
So basically, I was just waiting for Jack to pop out of his box.
For the rest of my miserable life.
While having to perform surgery a few times a week.
“I was”—I cleared my throat—“just checking a few things out with the car.”
“Oh, is it having trouble again?” Lucas asked in a curious voice.
“You could say that,” I said quickly, then changed the subject. “So, how’s Avery?”
“She’s amazing!” a feminine voice said from behind me. “And she’s also bombing guys’ night. Sorry, Lucas thought you were going to be a no-show.”
“It’s fine,” I said with a tight smile because, lo and behold, who was with Avery but her other half?
Her best friend.
Her very sexy best friend.
In half a dress.
I quickly looked away. “Austin.”
“Hitler,” she said sweetly. “Tell me, how is the KKK these days?”
“Too far.” Avery coughed into her hand and made a “cut it out” motion. “So, what’s everyone drinking?”
I made a mental note to keep my hand over my drink just in case Austin had arsenic and decided to see how fast it could kill a man when mixed with rum and Coke.
“Beer.” Lucas lifted his glass.
Avery scrunched up her nose. “I hate beer. I think I’ll just order some wine.” She pressed her lips together and looked at the drink menu anyway while Austin glared at me from the corner of her eye and slowly reached for my drink.
I pretended not to notice, then jerked it away from her and downed the entire thing in one giant gulp. The minute I was done, she grinned like she’d just won.
And I realized, just sitting near her was causing paranoia. I didn’t want her to have my drink or put anything in it, so I decided to what? Get drunk off my ass?
“I see what you did there,” I whispered. “Clever.”
“Just wait.” She bit down on her bottom lip in a way that drove me insane—and she knew it. My blood heated as my hands balled into fists. The waitress came and went, and I was thankful I wasn’t sporting spandex shorts anymore.
Because it would be impossible to hide how much Austin affected me—how much she always would.
Suddenly she glanced at her phone and then at the door; her smile grew and I didn’t like it. It gave me that funny feeling in my gut again—like all hell was about to break loose, and I was going to be the unlucky target of whatever scheme she’d thought up in that gorgeous head of hers.
“Dad!” she shouted.
“Oh, freaking hell.” I closed my eyes briefly before opening them and standing.
Her dad was a pompous ass.
A protective, pompous ass.
So the fact that I had broken his baby girl’s heart? Well . . . let’s just say I was suddenly really thankful he was a Democrat and voted for gun control.
“Bradley.” I held out my hand.
He stared at it, then slowly gripped my hand viciously hard, pumping it a bit too hard for my liking before releasing it. “So, I hear you’re going to race with us?”
“Us?” I repeated.
“Daddy!” Austin giggled. “I told you it was a surprise, but oh well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag!”
I forced a smile.
“Team Rogers!” Bradley nodded and slapped me hard on the shoulder. “Why, we’ve taken first place every year.”
Well. Shit.
“First, you say?” I struggled to find my breath. I couldn’t even ride a bike let alone beat someone else on it! Maybe they’d still count me if I carried a ten-speed over the finish line? No? “That’s really impressive.”
“We don’t lose.” His eyes narrowed as he jabbed a finger against my collarbone. “But one of the guys is out, and when Austin mentioned how much you enjoyed cycling, I figured what the hell, you know? Bury the hatchet and all.”
There was a hatchet?
Just how big was this hatchet?
“That’s very big of you, Daddy.” Austin stood up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. “You here meeting someone?”
His eyes darted between the two of us. “A work friend.” His easy smile was back. “Thatch, we ride this Friday at six a.m.! We’ll meet at Gas Works Park.”
He shook my hand again and walked off.
Six. Freaking. A.m.
Austin turned to me with a triumphant grin. “Do you want me to tell him? Or should you?”
Thankfully, the waitress had returned with another drink. I downed half of it and sat in the hard wooden chair while Lucas and Avery both stared at me with laughter written all over their amused faces.
“Laugh all you want.” I shook my head and grabbed my glass again. “But I don’t back down from a challenge!” Why the hell was I shouting?
“Dude.” Lucas cleared his throat and wiped a tear from under his eye. “Last time you tried—”
“Not now!” I roared. “Damn it, man, do you keep any secrets?”
“No,” Avery piped up.
“Do any of you have any idea how traumatizing it is to just get back on the bike after—”
“Stop overreacting.” Lucas waved his hand in front of my face. “That ice cream truck missed you by a mile at least.”
All heads turned toward him.
“Thanks, man. Thanks a lot,” I grumbled, sipping the rest of my drink, well on my way to committing to a constant state of drunkenness.
Damn Austin.
“Ice cream truck?” Avery just had to point out as she whipped her head in my direction, humor gleaming in her green eyes. “How old were you?”
“Lucas, I swear to all that is holy, if you open your mouth, I will punch you in the face.”
“I guess that explains number twenty, ‘Hates ice cream.’” Austin sighed and twirled her two straws around in her drink. “I’m pretty sure hating ice cream is right up there with hating children.”
“Which really explains so much, don’t you think?” I countered in a condescending tone as I eyed her up and down. It was a low blow. It was mean. It was also necessary to get her the hell off my back.
God, I didn’t want this.
Though a part of me knew I deserved it.
I should have never, ever, ever, allowed her in.