“Do it anyway, Zoey,” Pick called with a grin. “Hamilton’s still got a tongue to please you with.”
I groaned and buried my scorching hot cheeks in my hands. This group had a dirtier mind than any I’d ever thought I’d be a part of, but I loved being one of them anyway.
“Hey, leave her be,” Quinn chided as he came to me and wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. “No one is going to prevent me from pleasing her in every way possible.”
“Aww. You two are just too cute together.” Reese nudged Eva and continued bobbing her head and swaying back and forth to Asher’s song. “Didn’t I tell you they were going to end up together the first day I met her?”
Eva looped her arm with Reese and they swayed together. “You called it, sweetie. Way to go.”
I looked up at Quinn and he looked down at me. We started grinning simultaneously because I think we both realized we’d known it somehow too. We were just meant to be together. As our friends kept being crazy and ridiculous around us, we leaned into each other and kissed.
Tired of waiting, worried out of my mind, and shifting in my seat because my butt had gone numb, I glanced at my forearm I had crossed over my chest. Fresh ink stared up at me, amazing me all over again that I had an honest to God tattoo.
I traced the National Championships emblem in awe just as Ten elbowed me from his seat at my right.
“I still think you’re fucking crazy for getting that tattoo. You know that, right?”
With a grin, I shook my head. “I was just following tradition. All you guys got your tattoos the night before the big game last year, so I had to do it this year.”
“Yeah, and if we would’ve kept following tradition, we would’ve lost the next day, too.”
“But we didn’t.” We’d won the national championship title, and Dr. Frenetti had kept silent about Noel and Aspen’s relationship.
Ten snorted. “Yeah, you’re a lucky we didn’t lose.”
I shrugged. “We had a reason to win this year.”
“Hell, we had a reason to win last year, but we couldn’t pull it out of our asses then.”
“We had a better reason to win this year.”
Ten seemed to think that over before he nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Gamble and his woman didn’t need to turn into a national scandal. That’s for sure. And what are up with these damn waiting room chairs? Do they purposely want your ass to go dead while you’re sitting in them?”
I smiled. “You didn’t have to wait with me.”
Ten glanced away and grumbled something under his breath. I bumped my knee into his as my way of telling him thanks for sticking around anyway. It was Christmas Eve and everyone else in our group was home with their families right now, celebrating the holidays.
I was sitting here, though, because this was the date Cora had chosen from a handful of options to receive her new kidney. Worry lanced through me anew. They’d already been in surgery for over two hours. How much more time did they need for Zoey’s part of the whole ordeal to be over?
“You think everything’s going okay?” I asked under my breath as I glanced across the room to where Mr. Wilder and his wife—Cora’s mother—were seated, waiting for news about her.
“Blondie?” Ten asked with a snort. “Hell, yes, she’ll be fine. God wouldn’t let something bad happen to one of his angels.”
I glanced at him in surprise, because what he’d said didn’t sound like anything he would say, ever. But then I saw the anxious gleam in his eyes, and I realized he was worried too.
He and Zoey had grown close since she’d moved in with us two months ago. He always found a way to talk her into doing his laundry or cooking his favorite breakfast, and she not only tolerated his crude, foul mouth, but she seemed to adore it and liked to pamper him. They acted almost like…siblings.
I was just glad they got along as well as they did because to me, they were the closest thing to family I had. Zoey was my other, better half, and Ten had turned into a much better friend than I’d ever thought he’d be.
Before I could respond to Ten’s uncharacteristically sweet comment, Zoey’s surgeon appeared in the doorway of the waiting room. I’d met him before they’d put her under the anesthesia. Remembering me, he came straight over. “Her surgery went well.”
Relief poured through me, and Ten patted my knee in congratulations. Across the room, Cora’s dad stood as if to stretch, but I could tell he wanted to listen in on Zoey’s report. I narrowed my eyes at him and then kept listening to the surgeon’s technical jargon until he said we could go wait in her room and be there when she was brought down from recovery.