“Why don’t you ask her out on a date already?” Ryder asks. At least it doesn’t sound like he’s trying to antagonize me this time.
Darting forward, I smack the ball out of his hands and take it to the hoop for an easy two-pointer that has Ashton rolling his eyes. I check my watch to note how much time I have. Thankfully it’s not Wednesday, so it doesn’t matter how I show up to work.
We won’t discuss my need to dress up for a woman who has turned me down—multiple times.
“Wait,” Ashton says seriously. “Did she turn you down?” He holds his hands out, and I reluctantly pass him the ball. The silence that stretches between us is deafening, and his eyes go wide. “How many times have you asked her out, Dill? Please don’t tell me you’ve veered off into stalker territory. Hopefully, she doesn’t call me to step in. Having a partner accused of stalking would not be a good look for Envision. You know, oursecuritycompany?” His grin is mischievous.
Asshole.
Ashton and I may be equal partners now, but we tend to run Envision Securities like a souped-up frat house. No one is exempt from getting shit. The very nature of security companies has us on friendlier terms than say, a bank, because lives depend on our ability to trust one another implicitly.
“Shut up,” I groan. Ashton dribbles the ball, and he’s so awkward I can’t help but scrunch up my nose as I watch him. “Didn’t Easton and I ever teach you to play ball?”
He stands to his full height and dribbles while staring down at the ball. “I was too busy building computers, and these days I box, or did. I only play basketball with you because it’s the only time you do anything outside the office. So when my mom calls, I can tell her how you’re doing. And don’t change the subject.”
He throws up a brick, and it doesn’t even come close to the rim. I cannot comprehend this level of incompetence.
“Back to your Wednesday girl,” Ryder teases.
“Her name is Penny,” I growl.
“So, you have asked her out?” Ashton asks like he doesn’t know.
Of course he fucking knows. Why is everyone busting my balls today?
“Dude, your wife is best friends with her. You know I’ve asked her out.”
“But not lately because…” Ryder wiggles his eyebrows, and we both turn toward him.
Fuck. Here it comes. Going out for drinks with him the other night was definitely a mistake.
“She still thinks you’re seeing Marissa,” Ryder finishes.
“Who’s Marissa?” Ashton laughs, but I get the feeling he’s goading me. He knows exactly who Marissa is—or isn’t.
“Marissa is his imaginary girlfriend.” Ryder moves toward the basket with a wide grin on his face.
“I never said she was a girlfriend. I said I was going on a date with her.” I pass him the ball with more force than necessary. “Don’t you have to get to work?”
They ignore me.
“You told Penny, the woman you can’t stop thinking about, that you were going on a date with a made-up girl?” Ashton asks with wide eyes. His face has gone slightly pale. It doesn’t bode well for me, and the sweat trickling down my spine has nothing to do with being an almost forty-year-old playing basketball.
“It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.” It’s a miracle they understand my words because my teeth are clenched so tightly, I can hear them grinding in my head.
“The right thing?” Ashton shakes his head.
“She kept asking why I wasn’t seeing anyone. I didn’t want her to feel weird around me.”
“So, you lied to her?” he asks.
I’m not a fucking liar. That would make me as bad as my father, but Ash is also not technically wrong, and it makes my shoulders tense.
“No. There was a Marissa. From a dating app,” I mutter. “I just never responded to her message.”
“Because you like Penny. How long ago did this Marissa debacle happen?” Ashton stares at me warily.
“A few months ago.” Guilt churns in my gut.