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But I’m just going to be living my best life immersed in the fanciful world of my very smutty book.

The Ambroses can do as the Ambroses do.

“Take your time,” I tell him and then make my way back to the chair ensconced amongst the roses.

My gaze is drawn to the boys a few times before I get sucked back into the story, and it’s clear that like my half-brothers, this is a familiar occurrence for them. Passing and shooting, shit-giving and jabbing at each other’s sticks (I notice that Ace has taken a special interest in shutting down Lex as much as absolutely possible). There’s talking and pointers given, tweaks made, two-on-ones played, and lots and lots of pings from the metal supports of the net being hit.

Eventually, though, I get bored and my focus stays on my book.

At least until a hand appears in front of my face. “Here.”

Blinking at the wine glass six inches from my nose, I look up at Beck.

Who just jiggles the glass, sending the contents sloshing.

Wordlessly, I reach out and take it.

Mostly because it’s wine.

But also because he says, “Noticed you liked to have a glass after dinner,” and then sits down next to me.

“Thanks,” I murmur.

He shrugs. “Not hard to pour some wine in a glass.”

Right. Well, there is that.

“True enough,” I say, biting the inside of my cheek for a moment before mentally shrugging and taking a sip of wine. “But still, thanks.”

He just shrugs again.

And…silence.

Right. Okaaay.

My gaze drifts to the battered net again. In the fading summer light, I see that Lex has called it quits too, but he’s disappeared to who knows where. I can also see clearly into the kitchen.

Where Steve and Joan are standing close together.

Yikes.

There’s no shouting, so hopefully that’s a good thing.

Meanwhile, Ace is proving why he’s so damned successful. He’s trying to perfect a deke and he’s working at it.

And working at it.

Over and over again.

“He’s always been like that,” Beck says quietly.

“Like what?”

“Driven. Focused.” His eyes come to mine. “Determined. I think it’s why the rest of us made it as far as we did—chasing him even though we can’t come close still makes us damned good.”

I set my book aside. “I’ve seen some of your highlights on TV, Beck. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.”

He’s quiet, studying me for a long moment.