Page 32 of Courting Danger

His eyes lit up, shoulders straightening as he smiled so brightly it transformed his face into something radiant and downright adorable. That last part was another shock, because it made Roan look softer and even younger than his twenty-five years.

“Thank you,” Roan replied. “That would be awesome. I’ve never been to a live event.”

“Alright then, just gotta find someone who wants the other two tickets,” Danger replied. “Unless you think Ocean would like to go.”

“I’ll ask him when I…”

Roan’s words trailed off even while his eyes shimmered brighter. When Danger turned, he quickly discovered why. Pope had entered the bar, and as he usually was these days, Ocean was by his side; the pair engaged in an animated conversation until Ocean saw Roan and his whole face transformed from happy to downright radiant. Yeah, whether Roan realized it yet or not, what he craved was right there in front of him.

“We were looking for you,” Ocean announced when he reached their booth at the same time as Roan piped up, the pair talking over one another.

“Danger has tickets to a motocross event. Do you want to go?”

“Hell yeah! I love dirtbike races!”

“Same, but I’ve always been more into the freestyle; those guys are sick with the tricks they pull off,” Roan replied. “So, what were you guys looking for me for?”

“Pope was in the mood for some wind therapy,” Ocean explained. “We thought you’d want to come too if you guys weren’t working.”

“Got an invite for me, or is this a private party?” Danger asked, staring up at Pope, who stood poised just behind Ocean, the same tiny smile curving his lips that Danger had seen every time he’d caught Pope keeping company with Ocean.

“You’re welcome,” Pope said. “Figured we’d head up to Shakers Hill and ride the north ridge, come into town the back way, and fire up the grill out at my place, putting something in our bellies beside bar food for once.”

“Works for me.”

“Kickstands up in ten, then,” Pope said. “Just need to stop in and run something past Mark.”

“We’re done here,” Danger declared, as Roan picked up the last chicken strip, broke it in half, and offered a piece to Ocean,the pair cleaning up the last of the sauce in the dipping bowls and licking it off their fingers when they finished eating.

“I’ll get our jackets,” Roan declared when Ocean lifted the platter and turned to carry it back to the bar.

“Wash your damned hands first,” Danger grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose when Roan skidded to a stop and reversed directions, disappearing into the bathroom while Pope vanished into the office with Mark.

His wallet was fixing to be a hundred bucks lighter the next time he bumped into the Prez, but this time, losing a wager might actually prove to be worth it.