32. Riley
32
RILEY
T hat afternoon, we’re chilling out in the living room with the remnants of our milkshakes. Royce and Logan egged Grayson into a video game battle while Aurora draws quietly on the floor, and I’m curled up on the sofa—content to be surrounded by my family. The guys’ soft laughter and playful banter fill the air, along with the rapid clicking of the controllers and the occasional triumphant shout or groan of defeat.
“Come on, Grayson, is that all you’ve got?” Logan teases, his voice filled with mock incredulity. “You’re getting your ass— butt… You are getting your butt handed to you!”
Aurora’s eyes go comically wide at Logan’s slip-up, and I smother a laugh behind my hand as he mouths an apology. Grayson chuckles, a rare sound that always makes my heart skip a beat. “Just you wait, Logan. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”
Royce chimes in, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Yeah, right. Like when you tried to beat me at that racing game and lost all five races?”
“My car was messed with!” Grayson protests, earning a snort from Logan.
“Dude, cars don’t get messed with in video games.”
I can’t help but smile at their banter. Despite everything that’s happened, despite the fear and pain, this moment feels almost normal. Their camaraderie and the easy way they rib each other… I imagine that’s what having siblings is like growing up.
I let the soothing balm of their voices wash over me. Royce’s laughter is deep and rich, Logan’s is bright and infectious, and Grayson’s is a rare but cherished sound somewhere in between. It’s like a symphony of safety, each note playing perfectly in tune with the others.
“Right, girls,” Logan announces. “Place your bets. Who do you think is gonna win?”
“Ro!” Aurora declares without a moment’s hesitation. She can’t say Royce or Grayson, so she calls them Ro and Gayson. Of course, Logan, feeling left out, insisted he needed a nickname too, and he’s been trying to convince her to call him Lo—which just sounds ridiculous, if you ask me. However, when I said as much, he pouted and gave me those puppy dog eyes he’s disturbingly good at.
In a flare of dramatics, Logan clutches at his chest as though mortally wounded. “Pumpkin, how could you do that to me?”
Smirking like the cat who got the cream, Royce flicks his gaze my way. “What about you, Mama?”—Another stupid nickname that has stuck—“Who are you betting on?”
“My money’s on Grayson.” Grayson’s eyes widen in surprise as Logan makes a noise as though he’s dying at my betrayal. The whole thing brings a smile to my lips, one Grayson mirrors. The two of us share a fragile moment that goes beyond simple video games and jesting among friends.
“Traitor,” Royce mutters, reaching over to grab my foot and tickling it until I squeal and plead for mercy. Aurora cackles at the entire thing, doing nothing to come to my rescue. Traitor.
The guys dive back into their game with renewed focus until Logan throws his arms in the air. “I win! Take that su—losers!” Standing, he spins in a victorious circle, pointing at Aurora and me. “Ladies, remember this moment. Don’t bet on losing horses.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I chide while Aurora throws her head back and cackles like a hyena.
After another few rounds of their game, the guys pause it and begin reminiscing about their earlier college days. Aurora has given up on drawing and climbed up beside me on the sofa. Her eyes are heavy, and I can tell she’s moments away from falling asleep.
“Remember when we snuck into the dean’s office and replaced his family portrait with a picture of that stray cat we found?” Logan chuckles, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
Grayson laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah, and he didn’t notice for a whole week. Then he called a campus-wide assembly, and the look on his face as he berated us all was priceless.”
Royce smirks, leaning back on his hands on the mattress. “That cat was the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen. How did we even come up with that?”
“It was Logan’s idea,” Grayson chortles. “He was always the mastermind behind our stupid pranks.”
“Hey, I prefer the term creative genius ,” Logan replies, puffing his chest in mock pride. “Besides, what is college without a few crazy memories?”
I smile, enjoying their stories. Despite their differences, they clearly share a deep bond forged through shared experiences and a lot of humor. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I can’t help but ask the question that’s been on my mind since I first started getting to know each of them.
“How did you all become friends? You’re so different. It’s hard to imagine how it all started.”
The room falls silent for a moment as the guys exchange glances. It’s Logan who speaks first, his expression softening.
“It was our freshman year,” he begins. “We all had our reasons for keeping to ourselves…” He gives a one-shoulder shrug, not needing to fill in the gaps. Royce had just left the false rape allegation behind, and Grayson was dealing with his grandmother and the company off the back of his father’s arrest. Logan… tilting my head, I give him a questioning look. “It was after I got kicked from that Michigan game,” he explains. That’s what I suspected.
Despite that dark time in his freshman year, he smiles at a memory. “I remember seeing Royce at one of the freshman football games. He was amazing on the field, but he always appeared guarded when stomping around campus.”
“I did not stomp around campus,” Royce gripes.
I chuckle. “You kinda do. You stomped right into me on my first day.”
Challenge flashes across his brilliant blue eyes. “Babydoll, you’re the one who ran into me. So desperate to get your hands on me.”
Grabbing the straw from my milkshake, I flick it at his head while grinning.
Logan and Grayson burst into laughter as Royce easily catches it. “I figured he needed a friend, even if he didn’t know it yet,” Logan continues when we settle down again.
Royce rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. “Logan wouldn’t leave me alone. He kept bugging me until I agreed to hang out with him.” I don’t even bother to smother my smile. That sounds exactly like Logan, and I bet it’s precisely what Royce needed. After what he’d gone through, there was no way he would put himself out there to make friends. He needed someone like Logan to poke and prod and force him into a friendship.
“And then there was Grayson,” Logan continues, turning to him. “We had a couple of classes together, and I noticed how he was always so focused. It was like the rest of us didn’t exist. After seeing him so intent on his school work for several weeks, I decided he needed a break.”
Grayson chuckles softly. “Logan practically dragged me out of the library one night. I was buried in work, struggling to balance school and the company, and I still visited Gran regularly. He insisted I needed to have some fun and dragged me to some frat party.”
“But it wasn’t until Royce got himself kicked out of a campus bar after Gray and I peeled him off some guy too dumb to realize who he’d picked a fight with, and spent the night bonding over stale coffee and pancakes that we truly became friends,” Logan says, smiling fondly at the memory. “We realized we made a good team. Royce, with his determination and loyalty. Grayson, with his intelligence and strategic mind. And me, with my... well, charm and persistence.”
Royce and Grayson laugh, and I find myself joining in. It’s clear that Logan was the glue that brought them together, his easygoing nature and relentless friendliness breaking down their walls.
“You were the anchor.” My voice is filled with awe, and I have so much love and respect for this husky of mine. The entire campus had turned on him, and instead of curling in on himself and putting up walls, he went looking for friends in the unlikeliest of places. “You brought all of you together.”
He shrugs like what he did wasn’t an incredible feat, but we all know, given Royce’s prickly attitude and Grayson’s obstinance, what Logan achieved is practically a miracle. “I guess you could say that, but it wasn’t just me. We all needed each other, even if we didn’t realize it initially. We became each other’s support system, and that’s what kept us going.”
Throat tight, I nod, feeling a deep admiration for these three incredible men. Their friendship is a testament to the power of connection and the strength of having people who genuinely care about you.
The moment grows heavy, and in true Logan fashion, he breaks it with a more lighthearted memory. “Remember that wild party at the Delta Chi house?”
Grayson’s eyes light up. “You mean the one where you got kicked out for trying to ride the mechanical bull in the backyard?”
Royce laughs, shaking his head. “And then you convinced us to sneak back in through the kitchen window.”
Logan holds up his hands in mock surrender. “In my defense, I was trying to impress that girl from my international business class. But, yeah, that was a good night.”
Grayson shakes his head, although a smile lifts the corner of his lips. “You ended up getting us all thrown out again when you tried to start a conga line in the living room.”
“And then the sprinklers went off,” Royce finishes, grinning. “We were soaked to the bone.”
Later that night, Grayson and Royce are watching a movie with Aurora while Logan cooks dinner when my phone buzzes on the coffee table. I smile, seeing several new messages from Tara. I hadn’t been very good at replying to her while everything was going on, but I’ve been making more of an effort to respond and actively participate in our friendship this past week.
Tara
Got a new shipment of feather boas. This one’s neon pink! *photo attached*
Oh, and Xander ate the last slice of pizza. AGAIN. That little troll.
I’m thinking about switching the pink out for electric blue. What do you think?
But I like the girliness of the pink. It throws people off.
OMG, you’ll never believe what happened at the club last night. This guy tried to pay for his drinks with a magic trick. Like, dude, coins don’t magically multiply. *rolled eyes emoji*
My car made a weird noise this morning. Should I be worried? Or just blast the radio louder?
Me
You’re insane. And you should tell Xander about your car!
Her response comes back immediately.
Tara
Xander?! I can’t tell Xander! Do you have any idea how long he will lord it over my head? Telling me Betsy is a death trap is his favorite thing to do.
Snorting, I hesitate for only a moment before typing out:
Me
Any chance you’d have a spare spot for me if I came back to Lux next week?
Tomorrow night is Logan’s last game of the regular season before regionals, and now that things seem to be settling down and we’ve developed a routine that works for everyone with Aurora, I’m keen to get back to work, even if it’s just one shift a week. Even with Bertram still out there, I need this return to normalcy. Having a job gives me independence, especially now that I’m living with the guys and so reliant on their help with Aurora.
Bubbles form and disappear on repeat before a response finally comes through.
Tara
Biiiiitch, you better not be messing with me! Hell yes, I’ve got a spot for you! Come to rehearsals on Tuesday!
I’m smiling as I respond and set my phone down. I know we still have Bertram’s existence hanging over our heads, but it feels good to return to normal. Not that I can really call any of this normal since I’ve never had any of it before—unlimited time with Aurora, other people here to help and support me, three incredibly hot men to call my own.
No, this isn’t normal.
It’s so much fucking better!