with a V-8 in it. It’s the pinnacle of SUVs. It will go zero to sixty in five-point-two seconds.”
“So? I have an Audi A8.”
Wade grins. “And your Audi A8 will go zero to sixty in five-point-six seconds. Which, since you can’t math, is point-four seconds slower than mine.” He shrugs. “I do all of that with three rows.”
Fucker.
“How do you know more about my car than I do?” I ask.
“Although we both subscribe to Car and Driver magazine, I read the articles while you look at the pictures. We are not the same.”
I hate when he’s right.
We ride quietly except for some classical music that Wade has on. I wonder what it’s like in his head. Does he play piano music while he’s going to bed, preparing him for dreams of facts and figures?
It’s odd that we’re related.
“I’ve noticed you’ve really started stepping up,” Wade says.
I gasp. “That is the first compliment you’ve ever given to me unprompted.”
“Will you shut up and have a conversation with me instead of trying to make a joke? Dammit, Boone.”
“Your man guy persona was cracked when you made friends with Rosie. Sucker.”
He makes a face. “Sucker? Yeah. Okay. Looked in the mirror lately, my friend?”
“We’re friends? That’s so nice, Wade.”
He shakes his head, unamused.
“I’m sorry. Thank you for noticing that I’ve been stepping up. I’m just trying to level up my game.” I flip down the visor and check my reflection. “It turns out that I don’t hate work. Isn’t that funny?”
“No. It’s in your blood.”
“I doubted that for a long time.”
“Honestly? Me too.”
I close the visor. “What? That I have work in my blood?”
“That you have Mason blood at all, if you really want to know.”
My jaw drops. Wade looks at me and snickers.
And Oliver’s back in my top three favorite brothers.
My phone buzzes in my hand. I look down at the screen.
Danny: I’m free today. Are you available?
Me: Yes, if it’s after four.
Danny: Say around six?
Me: Perfect. Want to swing by my house? I think it’ll be more comfortable, and I need my partner to weigh in on it too.
I grin, imagining what Jaxi’s response to my idea will be. I hope she loves it.
Danny: You got it. Address?
Me: 7639 E. Scott St
Danny: Not far from where I’ll be. Perfect. See you then.
“I’m losing you to the marital side of life too, aren’t I?” he asks.
“Not yet.”
He rests his wrist on top of his steering wheel. “Is that what you’re thinking, though?”
Am I?
When I think of my future, I think immediately of Jaxi and Rosie. I can’t imagine starting my own side business or having a meal or going to bed without Jaxi. The idea of Rosie waking up at night unable to find me, going to school and having someone be mean to her, or looking up in the stands of a game and not seeing me makes me want to lose it.
But marriage? Am I a marriage guy?
Maybe I am.
When I consider Libby and Ted, I think hell to the fucking no. Why put your life up for potential devastation when you’re capable of doing just fine on your own? But if I look at my parents’ marriage and see decades of faithfulness and friendship and a love that got them through good times and bad—and raising five unruly boys—then, maybe yes.
If I can’t imagine Jaxi and Rosie not in my life, isn’t marriage the logical, down-the-road step?
“What do you think about marriage, Wade?”
He makes a face as though he’s considering the question.
“To be honest with you, I don’t really see the point,” he says. “It’s a piece of paper. How is that supposed to bind you with another person?”
I shrug. “I think it’s a religious thing to a lot of people. Otherwise, it’s a sign of commitment.”
“And so is a dog.”
I laugh. “I can tell you’ve been hanging out with Rosie.”
He rolls his eyes. “I mean, marriage has a few practical benefits. It affords you access to health insurance if one person is working, wealth follows paper trails, it makes things like custody of children easier. There are reasons to get married for some people.”
“But not you?”
“No. I don’t have a lot of faith in other people’s word. You’re putting your entire life halfway in someone else’s basket. They might love you now. They might be the best person you’ve ever known. But if they get pissed or decide they want out, you’re fucked, and there’s nothing you can do about it because of a little piece of paper.”
When