Crush (Crash #3)(62)

Thomas and Holly had drifted up to the table and were watching the whole thing like it was one big ol' train wreck they couldn't look away from.

"I can answer that with four words," I said, crossing my arms tighter. "Anton is an A-S-S." I glanced over at LJ, who was oblivious. Nothing but him and his football. I mourned that kind of simplicity.

India's face scrunched up while Anton's dropped. "You're right. I was an"-he glanced over at LJ-"A-S-S. A huge, insensitive one. And I'm sorry." He took a few steps my direction but stopped once I stiffened. "Will you forgive me?"

"Will you promise to stop acting like a huge, insensitive A-S-S?"

"I can't guarantee that," he said. "But I can promise that I'll try." A couple steps closer, until I could smell that damned cologne of his. "So? Forgiven?"

"Forgiven? I don't know," I answered truthfully. "But you can stay." Wanting to put some space between us, I headed back into the kitchen. I was tempted to hack up the other half head of lettuce just to get some of my frustration out, but held myself back.

Instead, I cracked my neck, popped my knuckles, and grabbed a Corona. I didn't bother with the lime.

"Lucy, my girl, I don't know how you managed to get the first apology I've ever heard from my brother, but that ought to make you eligible for your own national holiday," India said, taking a seat at the table. "Lucy Larson Puts Jack-A-S-S-E-S in Their Place Day."

"Indie, that's an everyday holiday in my life," I said, selecting the seat as far away from Anton as I could.

Holly lifted her beer and clanked it against mine. "Amen, sister."

"Can I sit next to you, Aunt Luce?" LJ asked, squirming up beside me.

"It's all right with me if it's all right with your mom."

"Mom? Is it all right?"

"Knock yourself out," she said, cutting LJ's enchilada into bite-size pieces.

Thomas dished everyone an enchilada before taking his seat across from Anton. "So what's your story, Anton?" he asked. "Other than being an A-S-S?"

Anton chuckled. "I'll save you the details, since it's a pretty boring one."




       
         
       
        
"I doubt that," Thomas said around a bite of enchilada. "I mean, how can a guy named Anton, who is next in line to run a multimillion-dollar company, not to mention a guy who can seriously tick Lucy Larson off, have a boring story? It's impossible."

I dived into my dinner, hoping that if I had a mouthful of food I wouldn't fire off anything that was better kept to myself.

"Trust me, it's about as exciting as French vanilla ice cream."

I choked on my food. Seriously choked.

LJ stood up in his chair and gave my back a few whacks while I sipped some apple juice. When I looked up from my choking incident, everyone was staring at me.

"What?" I said, expressing my thanks to LJ with a smile. "I've always found French vanilla to be rather exciting. That's all."

"Do you think the psych unit is closed for the night?" India mumbled.

I scowled at her as I contemplated if eating my dinner was going to be more dangerous than not eating it.

"Since my big brother's having this rare moment of modesty, I'll give you the four-one-one on Anton Shaft Xavier."

"Wait." Thomas waved his fork. "Your middle name is Shaft?"

Anton shrugged. "Our parents are huge Shaft fans."

Thomas clapped his hands, clearly in awe. "There is no conceivable way your life story is boring with a middle name like Shaft."

"The only person whose life story is more exciting is mine," India said, taking a swig of her beer. "Okay. So ASX in a nutshell . . . which is strangely ironic, since it's very close to A-S-S." She grinned like this was a revelation. "He was the captain of his lacrosse team back in high school. Was student body president his senior year. Dated every cheerleader on the squad by the time he turned eighteen." Anton sighed, and grabbed India's beer before she could stop him. He took a long swig. "He got a scholarship to Dartmouth, graduated summa cum laude, went to the Olympic trials for the lacrosse team; he summited K2 three years ago, sailed across the Atlantic on his own two years ago, and one year ago he lost his fiancée."

Anton choked on his beer. A lot of choking going on tonight. "Shit, India," he said, before Holly leveled a look at him. "I mean, S-H-I-T, India."

"What do you mean, he lost his fiancée?" Thomas asked, leaning forward. "Like, one day he woke up and couldn't find her?"