Nick
“Santi, take the goddamn shot!”
Jonathan slaps the basketball away from Julian, stealing it clean and taking it to the top of the key. He dribbles casually, taunting us with a smug little grin.
“Cover him, Crawford!” Julian hollers.
I rush Jonathan, but the slick bastard moves like a fox. He fakes right, then cuts left. Before I can recover, my ass hits the hardwood as he drives the lane and sinks another layup.
“Um, hello?” I yell. “That’s a foul!”
“Foul?” Jonathan laughs, grabbing the rebound and holding it casually against his hip. “Hardly. Your clumsy ass fell.” Extending his hand, he helps me up off the ground. “You two do know that someone still has to play defense when playing two-on-one, right?”
I stop short, glaring at him. “Chode.”
Jonathan snorts. “And yet, I still scored on you.” He spins the ball between his palms before passing it to Julian. “Alright, c’mon, Santi. Check me.”
Julian lets the ball bounce weakly off his leg while he rests his hands on his knees. “Give me a second,” he pants. “Are we … are we almost done?”
“You okay?” Jonathan chuckles.
Julian slowly stands up straight, wincing as he blows out a heavy breath. “Yeah … never better, ‘Migo.”
“Maybe we should play to eleven rather than fifteen,” Jonathan suggests, grabbing a towel and water bottle for Julian.
I scoff. “You’d like that wouldn’t you. That means you already won.”
Jonathan shrugs, stifling a grin.
“Buen partido,” Julian jokes before lifting his arms and resting them on top of his head. “Who’s idea was this anyway?”
“Yours, you oaf.” I snicker.
“I think—” he starts to catch his breath—“I think we’re too old for this.”
“We’re?” Jonathan repeats, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t think it has anything to do with age,” I joke.
This earns us a scowl from Julian, making us all laugh.
Julian Santiago and Jonathan Ramsdale have been my closest friends since we met at the Debakey School of Medicine in downtown Houston.
It started out as a roommate situation, and we grew close quickly—that is until I threw it all away at the end of our final year.
I did something abhorrent and unforgivable, and Jonathan cut off all contact with me— rightfully so.
Julian had no clue. We were all going different directions for residency anyway.
After residency, I worked for a hospital in the suburbs, but remained in touch with Julian.
He’s the one that gave me the heads up about the anesthesia position at the G-Dub.
The difficult part? Jonathan was also working there.
Worse? He had done his residency there and was well-liked.
But when I came on board, Julian served as a buffer without even realizing it, and after about a year, Jonathan and I were chatting again.
Not close like we had been, but at least he was talking to me.
Then before I knew it, it was like old times again, the three of us.
Well, plus Chelsea, Julian’s wife. They’ve been together since high school, and they now have three daughters that keep them on their toes.
Jonathan has Tatum back in his life, and he didn’t waste any time putting a ring on it.
I don’t blame him. They never should’ve been torn apart for the past decade.
Then again, I have a knack for ruining good things.
“Have you decided about next Tuesday night yet?” Jonathan asks, grounding me from my thoughts.
“Your brother’s gig?” I lift the hem of my shirt, wiping at my forehead. “As much as I’d love to listen to the sound of—what do they call themselves? Vandal’s Way? I kinda already have plans.”
“Really?” Julian takes a sip of water. “Doing what?”
I rub the back of my neck. “Oh, it’s, uh—” I clear my throat—“I was planning on going out for drinks that night.”
Jonathan and Julian share a glance before staring at me.
“With who?” Julian chimes in.
“No one.” I pivot around, grabbing my own water bottle. “I just thought it would be nice to go up there when it wasn’t too crazy.”
Before they can ask anymore questions, the double-doors to the gym open. In walks a taller man with sandy-colored hair. And next to him, none other than fucking Declan.
“Look who it is!” Declan boasts with his arms open wide.
Jonathan gives a pursed grin while Julian, the social butterfly of our group, shakes his hand. “Hey, Deck, long time, no see!”
“Dr. Santiago, always a pleasure.”
“I heard you were back working with the G-Dub.”
“Oh yeah, I missed you guys.” He playfully slugs Julian’s shoulder, his obnoxiously loud laugh echoes through the gym.. “Plus, I needed to be closer with my family. Speaking of …” He gestures to the man he walked in with. “This is my longtime friend Matt Barnett.”
The man smiles brightly, waving to us.”How’re y’all?”
The three of us cordially nod.
“Were y’all in the middle of shooting hoops?” Declan asks.
“Ah-no, we’re done for the evening,” Julian answers for us. “The court is all yours.”
“Maybe we can enjoy a pick-up game together sometime,” Declan suggests, dribbling the ball at his side.
“Yeah. Maybe.” I nod. “Y’all have a good evening.”
“Nice meeting you, Matt,” Julian says as we leave the gymnasium.
“I hate that man,” I grumble as we head toward the locker room.
“Declan?” Julian laughs, dabbing the sweat off of his brow. “He’s not so bad.”
Jonathan remains quiet, grabbing his bag.
Julian glances at both of us. “Man, I guess I missed the memo.”
I change out of my workout shirt and grab my duffel bag. “What are y’all doing after this?”
“I already got a text from Chels that Lizzie needs help with pre-algebra homework.”
I nod in understanding, turning to Jonathan. He just smiles. “I’m going home.”
“Yeah, you are.” Julian lets out a boisterous, knowing laugh as he slaps Jonathan’s back, making the newlywed blush harder.
“Are you not going home, Crawford?” Julian asks.
I run my fingers through my hair. “I mean, if y’all were available, I was going to see if y’all wanted to go for a drink.”
“Dude, what is with you and going out for drinks all of a sudden?”
“Nothing—”
“I don’t think you’re Skye’s type,” Jonathan jokes.
I laugh with them. I guess I didn’t realize how eager I was to get back to Low Places. I wanted to go because I wanted to hang out with my friends.
Right?
Who says that I need them anyway? Maybe I can stop by to check things out. Just in case.
We leave the gym, and instead of heading home, I decide to at least drive by the bar.
I park in the grocery store around the corner. I spot the blue Toyota parked outside belonging to a certain new employee with heavenly brown eyes with gorgeous tousled hair.
Maybe I should go in and say hello.
No. You idiot. You left her hanging in the parking lot last time, lips drawn for an epic kiss in the rain. There is no way she wants to see you, and there is no coming back from that.
Let me just wait here and at least make sure she makes it to her car okay. That’s not weird, right?
My phone lights up with a Houston number I don’t recognize, drawing my attention. After sending it to voicemail, the same number calls me right back. I stare at the door to Low Places, no one entering or leaving. Against my better judgment, I answer the phone.
“Nick?” A tinny, feminine voice echoes through the receiver. “It’s Tiffany. Tiffany Stone.”