6
K nox pulled up in front of Ezra’s house a little after eight. He’d been right in suspecting that his friend was having a small gathering. There were only a few other cars there. One Knox recognized as Wolfe’s, another one of their friends, and another car as Coen’s, Ezra’s little brother. The other two he was unfamiliar with, but Ezra was always meeting new people, making friends he’d bring around them once or twice and then never again. Usually, because of Wolfe. Their friend had no filter, didn’t care what he said to anyone, and was a hard-ass 90 percent of the time.
Getting out of his vehicle, Knox went to the front door. He knocked, and a few seconds later, Ezra pulled the door open. The relief Knox saw on the other man’s face let him know that something had already gone down.
“What’s going on?” Knox questioned as Ezra stepped aside to let him in.
“I’m questioning why I attempt to introduce Wolfe to anyone new,” Ezra responded, closing the door.
“I’ve been questioning that since the day you started. It takes a special type of person to deal with Wolfe, and you know he seldom likes anyone.”
It was true. Knox typically wondered how the three of them became friends back in college because Wolfe was an asshole of a different caliber. If Knox had to guess, he’d figured it had something to do with the fact that he could snap back just as good as Wolfe gave. While the other man’s attitude had never phased Ezra since there was little that actually seemed to bother Ezra.
“Where is he?” Knox questioned.
“In the living room with the others, that he so casually offended.”
Shaking his head, Knox went to the living room. It wasn’t rare that he was put on Wolfe duty. Not that it did any good because, mostly, the other man still said and did what he wanted to. All Knox really did was shoot him looks or talk over him when he was sure something that would offend someone was about to come out of Wolfe’s mouth.
When Knox stepped into the living room, he could feel the tension. It was as if it’d been building for hours, and he knew that was impossible considering it wasn’t even eight-thirty yet.
“You’re saying I’m wrong?” Knox listened as one of the three other men in the room he didn’t know questioned.
“Yes,” Wolfe responded before taking a drink of whatever was in his cup. “You’re basing your opinion on your bias and lies.”
“I’m not biased, and they’re facts.”
“Facts you made up. So, lies,” Wolfe responded.
Knox looked between the two men as Coen walked over and stood beside him and Ezra. The look of amusement on his face was a sure sign that he was thoroughly enjoying this back and forth.
“What are they even arguing about?” Knox questioned.
“Hall of fame and sports statistics,” Coen responded, smirking at Knox. “Poor Larry. He doesn’t know he’s fighting a losing battle.”
Knox assumed that was the man currently going back and forth with Wolfe, and Coen was right. He was indeed fighting a losing battle. He assumed the other man did not know who Wolfe was, which wasn’t unusual. Unless you knew him personally, worked for him, or were a die-hard fan and enjoyed knowing every statistic of your favorite team or player, most people simply knew him as The Analyst . It was a ridiculous name. They all thought so, but it was fitting. His friend was the best sports analyst in a decade easily. He’d built an entire business off of it. Wolfe didn’t just work for one team like analysts often did. He freelanced with any team willing to pay his fee, and he specialized in several sports, not just one.
If his known name came up beside any athlete as a player to watch, teams were scrambling for that player. On the opposite end of that, a player could find themselves out of a job if they found themselves on the receiving end of an analysis where Wolfe decided they were of no further asset to the team they were on.
So, yeah. Larry, unfortunately, was swimming against the tide in this current debate, and he’d drown pretty soon if it kept up.
“You’re trying to tell me I’m wrong?” Larry questioned again.
“I’m not trying to. I am,” Wolfe countered in a bored tone.
Knox didn’t know who they were talking about, but Larry bristled at the response. “He’s leading the league right now, and he’s broken the hall of fame record for receptions in a single game with thirteen in the last game. He’s the best wide receiver the league has had in years.”
Knox raised an eyebrow and took slight offense at that. Everyone was entitled to their own opinion, but he was standing in the damn room.
Wolfe inclined his head in Knox’s direction. Knox wasn’t surprised his friend knew he’d arrived even without acknowledging him till then. “Knox hasn’t played in over three years, has had two ACL injuries, and could still outpace him. Your boy is mediocre, and his stats are as well.” Wolf then gave his full attention to him. “What was your record for receptions in a single game?”
“Seventeen,” Knox responded. “And I don’t hold the hall of fame record,” he added on.
Larry looked between Knox and Wolfe as if he didn’t believe what he was hearing, which Knox didn’t understand. He had no reason to lie about his stats.
“Google is free, you know. It’d help you look like less of a dumbass next time,” Wolfe informed Larry before walking past Knox, Ezra, and Coen out of the living room.
“You two put out this fire,” Knox instructed them. “I’ll go deal with the gasoline that fueled it.”
Knox went into the kitchen to find Wolfe going through Ezra’s refrigerator. He leaned against the counter, allowing the silence between them to hang in the air for several minutes.
“You couldn’t have just allowed him to have that?”
“He can live in his delusion and spit nonsense to someone else,” Wolfe responded, coming out of the fridge with an armful of fruits.
Ezra had food spread out on the table, but Knox wasn’t surprised that his friend was deciding to bypass it.
“You know, you’re never going to make any friends with that attitude,” Knox teased him.
“I begrudgingly have you and Ezra. I don’t need more friends.”
“And Coen,” Knox added.
“I don’t like Coen. I just tolerate him because he’s Ezra’s little brother.”
Knox rolled his eyes. Because he remembered when Coen was being picked on in junior high, and Wolfe led the charge to scare the shit out of the kids that were doing so. Though now that he thought back on it, at nineteen and twenty, they shouldn’t have been going around frightening a group of thirteen-year-olds.
“Can you at least play nice when we go back in there?”
“No,” Wolfe responded immediately.
“Okay, then. I guess I’m just going to tell Yas, you won’t be coming to her gymnastic meets because you couldn’t be nice.”
Be nice was what his daughter liked to tell Wolfe, and it was also the only time that his friend was something other than an asshole. That 10 percent. As much as Wolfe was adamant that he didn’t want children of his own, Knox couldn’t tell when he was around Yasmine. He was a good uncle, and Knox knew he was playing dirty. Using his daughter to get Wolfe to at least be civilized was a low blow, but sometimes, you had to do what you had to do.
“You wouldn’t.”
“I would, and she’ll be disappointed,” Knox responded with a smirk, even if there wouldn’t be any competitions for a while.
“I will not be nice, but as long as he doesn’t talk to me, I won’t need to remind him of his stupidity.”
Knox sighed. It was the best he would get, and he knew it. With a nod, he returned to the living room and over to Ezra’s bar, where Coen was standing. The younger man held a glass out to him, and Knox took it appreciatively. This was going to be a long night.
A iva sat straight up in bed. A mixture of a moan and a gasp left her lips. It took her a moment to clear her mind of the haze from the dream she’d been having. It was her second time having one like it, and they’d both starred a particular client of hers.
Glancing over at the clock, she found it was a little after eight in the morning. She slid out of bed and headed into her en suite, the soaked seat of her panties sticking to her. She needed a cold shower, but her body demanded that things pick up where her dream left off, and Aiva wasn’t opposed to it. However, she knew she couldn’t.
Turning on the shower, Aiva stripped out of her t-shirt and panties before stepping under the cool spray of water. Her skin was heated from her dream, from the things Knox had done to her in those dreams, and Aiva couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be able to do them in real life. If the man lived up to the images and imaginings conjured by her mind.
Aiva shook her head as if it would physically remove the thoughts from it. She didn’t need to think about him in that way. It would only make working with him harder than it already was. While she could stay professional when they were face to face or speaking over the phone, the moment he left, the moment they hung up, Aiva wondered what that deep baritone would sound like in a different setting. How his lips and hands would feel.
It was maddening, and she would have chastised herself if she hadn’t known he was just as attracted to her. Aiva didn’t miss the way his eyes dropped to her lips when she spoke, the way they zeroed in on her waist whenever she stood to greet him. The way he’d lick his lips when she spoke to him. They were all subtle actions, as if he was trying not to allow them to happen and was unconsciously failing.
Once finished with her shower, Aiva stepped out, and wrapped a towel around herself. She didn’t have any plans for the day, which she knew could change later in the evening. After moisturizing, she dressed in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, leaving her bonnet on before going into the kitchen to fix herself some breakfast.
Aiva’s original plan had been to sleep in that Saturday morning. However, her dreams had other plans. So, she’d indulge in making herself a large breakfast and catching up on all of her recorded shows from the week.
Half an hour later, with her plate of French toast, eggs, and bacon; her bowl of mixed fruit, and a glass of orange juice, Aiva situated herself on the couch, queuing up the first episode of many she planned to watch.
A iva sat on a loveseat in a lounge later that night. Meila had called her an hour and a half before coming to pick her up and telling her to be ready. Now, here she sat with her sister and Finx as the two of them scoped out the crowd of people.
“That woman’s been staring at you since we got here,” Aiva informed her sister, gesturing to a woman seated at the bar.
“I know,” Meila responded with a shrug, taking a sip of her drink. Her indifference let Aiva know she wouldn’t talk to the woman.
Several minutes ticked by, and Aiva was ready to go. She hadn’t really wanted to come out in the first place and would have been happy to finish watching her episodes. Especially, since she wasn’t looking for someone to pass time with or get to know as the other two were. It always seemed that Meila and Finx needed her to be their wing woman. It was simple enough for Finx because he had one type. Her sister, however, always liked to test Aiva’s abilities.
Depending on the person Meila was pursuing when they went out, Aiva had to change her tactics. The way she was when her sister wanted to make a move on a woman differed from Aiva’s approach to a man. Though, her sister being pansexual allowed Aiva to strengthen her own game since she was mastering so many approaches.
Aiva turned her attention to Finx as he stood, and she watched him approach a young woman, moving slowly to the soft music. He sidled up behind her, hands going to her waist as he pulled her back against him, catching her rhythm.
“Dad called today,” Meila stated, and Aiva turned to look at her.
She knew their father had called. He’d called her earlier in the day, and Aiva had watched the phone ring. Then deleted the voicemail he’d left before ever listening to it. Aiva seldom spoke to her father unless it was at a gathering at her grandmother’s house. Even then, it was the bare minimum. Meila answered when he called, if for no other reason than to remind him of how he’d ruined their childhood, used and abandoned them, and the hurt he’d caused. It wasn’t expressly why she answered the phone, but the conversation often went in that direction.
“What did he want?” Aiva questioned, not caring, but she knew her sister wanted to tell her because she was bringing it up. It was no secret when he called one, he called the other. If he wasn’t reaching out to both of them, he was reaching out to neither of them, and Aiva preferred the latter.
“To remind us that his sixtieth birthday is around the corner.”
“And?” Aiva inquired as she took a drink from her glass because she didn’t care.
“He’d like us to come to celebrate the milestone, as he put it, with him and the family.”
Aiva scoffed. “The family he started while still married to our mother, or one of the two others he has now?”
“Who knows,” Meila responded. “I just thought I’d tell you. Besides, we haven’t seen our other siblings in a while.”
Meila was right, and while she condoned nothing their father did, they were still her half-siblings, and they kept in contact with them while avoiding their mutual parent. However, they’d all been so busy with life the past few months that they hadn’t seen each other outside of a few video calls. Usually, the older ones would get together once a month, and they’d take the younger ones out separately, but lately, their schedules didn’t permit it.
“Which is why we have that trip planned this summer for all the adults,” Aiva responded. “We can get the others when they’re out of school,” she finished with a shrug. “I don’t have to see Edison for that to happen.”
Between the man’s three families, he was currently juggling, Aiva and Meila’s father had amassed twelve children. The age difference between Meila, the oldest, and Kaley, the youngest, was twenty-six years. There were four under eighteen, and the rest twenty to twenty-seven. They were a regular fucked up Brady Bunch.
Aiva downed the rest of her drink before standing and going to the bar. The mention of their father had soured her mood, and she needed something stronger than what she’d been drinking. She was glad her sister had driven them because Aiva would need a few to get the sour taste of Edison’s name off her tongue.