Page 13 of Playing the Backbeat

“Okay, but what if that changes when you see him shirtless. Or he walks in and you’re in nothing but a towel. Wet hair dripping down your shoulders…” Bec’s gaze wanders off somewhere in the distance, her fingers mindlessly toying with the flower petals still in her hand.

“Are you ovulating or something?” Abby asks.

Bec shrugs. “It’s possible…”

“Please, go on.” I insist. “In what situation is Dylan stripping for me? Ooooh, maybe we can book him as our entertainment for the bachelorette party and we canallsee him shirtless.” I elbow Evie and she laughs. “I’m generous like that. I’ll share.”

“At ourjointbachelor and bachelorette party? Aiden and I agreed. No strippers. We’ll already be married at that point anyway.”

“Aye aye, Mrs. Price. I’ll be on my best behavior. Cancel strippers,” I mumble while miming a dramatic cross out in the air with my imaginary pen and paper.

Aiden and Bec decided to get married as quickly as possible, given Aiden’s mother’s health condition. She was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s disease years ago, and they’re worried about waiting too long and how that’ll impact her ability to attend and enjoy the day.

Aiden and Bec planned a local winter wedding this December to avoid any conflicts with Aiden’s baseball season, leaving little time for pre-wedding shenanigans. As best man and maid of honor, Dom and Ellie are planning a joint bachelor and bachelorette party in January, where we’ll join Bec and Aiden in Mexico after their week-long honeymoon.

This wasn’t an issue when I was fully employed, but thank God Dylan showed up inhishour of need, so I can still afford the trip inmyhour of need. I’d feel like the ultimate asshole if I had to bail on the trip, though I know Bec would understand.

“If strippers are off the table, I’m out,” Abby jokes with a wink at Bec, all while arranging her centerpiece effortlessly.

God, couldn’t I have gotten at leastoneounce of artistic talent like Abby? Like Ellie? Maybe then I wouldn’t need to suckle off the corporate teat. If I could use the right side of my brain, I could be acreativedoingcreativethings.

One look at my mangled attempt at an ethereal floral arrangement, and all those hopes are dashed. I’m doomed to be a corporate cog for the rest of my days. That is, if anyone will actually fucking hire me. Still no word from any of the places I applied to after not hearing back from the multiple interviews I went to.

Maybe I will need to take Carissa up on her offer and apply for some kind of supportive role at the hospital. She’s been working as a nurse in the emergency room for years, but she’s always pulling crazy hours. I’m no stranger to putting in overtime, but there’s no way I’m qualified for anything like that, right?

“I think this is a great idea,” Abby adds distractedly, cutting ribbon for her glass vase.

“I knew you were my favorite,” I whisper loudly.

Jesus Christ.I spy even more boxes of flowers on the kitchen counter. How many of these things do I need to ruin—I mean make—tonight?

“Well, now you have to explain,” Bec says around a mouthful of chips.

Abby leans across the table, sending me a look that spells trouble. “You might change your mind when I give my reasoning.”

“Doubtful,” I say, with as much confidence as I can muster. But Abby tends to see more than most, and if she’s analyzing my life too closely, that can’t be great for me.

“You’re both outgoing, attractive, charismatic. I’m going to go with you’ll be explosive one way”—she holds out one palm—“or another”—she holds out the other. “At least you know it’ll be an exciting time.” She shrugs, her long braids flowing around her shoulders, before she continues fluffing her already perfect floral arrangement. “Just make sure you don’t get burned by those fireworks.”

“Don’t wiggle your eyebrows at me, Abby Davis. We will be roommates, and nothing more.”

It’s not that I haven’t thought about Dylan like that. He’s hot. He gives just as good as he gets, and in my experience, people like that make fun partners ineveryway. But we’ve been friends for so long, I can’t imagine it going any further than harmless flirting. No, Dylan is exactly the type of friend I’d love livingwith. Never dull, but relaxed. Easy going, but fun. And it sure as fuck doesn’t hurt that he’s easy on the eyes.

“If you say so,” Abby says, while her tone is clearly giving an air ofYeah fucking right.

I give a stern look at my other not-so-serious friends sitting around the table; they all giggle and return to our project.

We work for a few minutes in comfortable silence. Just the sound of Bec’s playlist in the background, along with the sound of Hopper, her yellow lab, going to town on a bone near Bec’s feet.

“But if Iwasgoing to flirt with danger…” I say with a smirk, unable to refrain from being the menace I was born to be. “I bet he’shuge.”

“I knew it! You want him!” Bec yells, and I laugh so hard, tears streak down my face.

Even when I’m struggling, my friends always know how to remind me of what’s important. It’s not the job. It’s not the apartment. It’sthis. This ease…this comfort…this warmth knowing that no matter what happens, these girls and I are till the end. I’ve got them, and they’ve got me. And really, that’s all I’ve ever needed.

Chapter six

Dylan