Backbacking with the Boys - Brady

Brady

The airport lounge buzzed with quiet conversations and the hum of travelers. Cameron and I sat by the window, sipping on coffee as we watched planes taxiing on the runway. Cameron’s leg bounced nervously under the table—he was always a bit jittery in new situations.

Across from us, Asher casually sipped his tea from a cup, looking every bit as composed as always. Despite the chaotic energy of the airport, he had that effortless calm, like nothing could faze him.

“Tea?” I asked with a smirk, raising my coffee cup in mock challenge.

Asher didn’t even glance up. “Obviously. Some of us have standards, mate.”

Cameron chuckled, but before we could continue, the lounge doors swung open with a bang.

“Yo! Look who’s here!” boomed a familiar voice.

I looked up just in time to see Brady striding in like he owned the place. The first thing anyone noticed about Brady was his size—tall, broad shoulders filling out his sleeveless tank. His short, dark hair was cropped close, emphasizing the hard, clean lines of his square jaw. He moved with the ease of someone who knew he could get attention without trying.

“What’s up, nerds?” Brady grinned, his deep voice carrying across the room.

He reached us in a few long strides and clapped Cameron on the back, nearly sending him headfirst into his coffee. “Cammy, my man! Still shaking like you are about to play in the finals?”

Cameron gave a nervous laugh, rubbing his shoulder. “Nah, I’m fine.”

Brady grinned wider, his brown eyes full of mischief. “Yeah, we’ll see about that. You’re rolling with me, bro. I’ll get you loosened up.”

He turned his attention to me next, his tan face glowing with that signature cocky smile. “And Danny boy! Ready to tear it up? Europe’s not gonna know what hit it!”

I raised an eyebrow. “I thought we were going to Europe to, you know, see some culture.” I tried to tease.

Brady threw his head back and laughed. “Culture? Sure, if by culture you mean hitting every club from Paris to Prague. You don’t go to Europe to sip coffee and stare at old buildings. You go to party!”

Asher, still calm as ever, glanced over his tea cup. “Naturally. You’re a real ambassador of culture, Brady.”

Brady gave him a playful wink, unfazed. “You know it!”

He flopped down into the chair next to us, his muscular frame barely fitting into the small airport seat. His beard was neatly trimmed, just enough to make him look like the kind of guy you’d trust to lead a frat party but still clean-cut enough for a family dinner.

“You got your passport this time, right?” Asher teased.

Brady snorted. “Yeah, yeah, I’m not that bad. Got it locked and loaded. I’m learning.”

“Anyhow, I can’t wait to plow my way through Europe,” Brady said, his brown eyes gleaming with mischief. “Clubs, beaches, bars—this summer’s gonna be wild, boys!”

Cameron and I exchanged a quick look, both intrigued but also a little out of our element. Cameron, still fidgeting with his coffee cup, gave a nervous chuckle. “Yeah… should be fun.”

“Don’t be so shy, Cammy! We’re gonna tear it up!” Brady turned his attention to me next, leaning forward with that familiar, expectant grin. “And you, Danny boy, don’t be so stuck up. Bet your mom packed you some condoms, didn’t she?”

I froze, my cheeks flushing slightly. I glanced at Cameron, who looked just as uncomfortable, then back at Brady. “Uh… yeah, actually,” I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly. “But she also said, ‘Remember what happened to Uncle Aldo. He’s still paying child support.’”

Asher, quietly sipping his tea, raised an eyebrow but stayed silent, observing the exchange with a smirk.

Brady threw his head back, laughing so loudly that heads turned from nearby tables. “I knew it! Classic. Overprotective moms, man. Besides, Uncle Aldo’s a fucking legend! Man’s been running through women like he’s on a mission! I swear, every town’s got an Uncle Aldo. He’s like the ultimate manwhore. What a role model, right?”

Cameron tried to hold back a smile, clearly uncomfortable but also a bit entertained.

Asher, still effortlessly calm, set his tea down and shot Brady a cool glance. “Legendary? More like ratchet, if you ask me.”

Brady waved him off with a grin, unfazed. “Yeah, yeah. You’ll see, Ash. Europe’s gonna be one hell of a ride.”