Archer didn’t have a left arm to knock him away, so he gripped Krys’s wrist and flicked it off.
Like a blast of northern wind, Virgil blew in and collapsed in the seat. “I couldn’t help noticing you two having a scintillating conversation about something that I can only presume is juicy. What’s going on here, gentlemen?”
Krys jerked his head toward the sexy woman at the bar who was reading a book. “Archer fucked the redhead.”
Virgil gave her an appraising inspection. “Details. We need details.”
“Not her,” Archer said. “The one by the door. Long skirt, ponytail?—”
“The one suffering from melancholia?” Virgil squinted in her direction.
The young woman tucked her fist against her cheek and stared listlessly at the crowd. She wasn’t voluptuous orextroverted, but Archer was ensnared by her soulful eyes and lovely features, which seemed unmatched by the women in this time.
“You can’t be serious.” Krys bit back his laughter. “Are you talking about the wallflower?”
Suddenly the woman’s eyes locked on Archer, and the entire world disappeared. He felt a connection that gripped his soul and shook it awake.
Even worse, he couldn’t stop staring.
I thought she left town? Does she remember me? She’s got to recognize me the way she’s staring like a deer in headlights. Maybe I should wave. No, don’t wave like a creepy jackass.
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Krys continued as he sat back. “Casanova over here never goes for the shy girls. Desperate much?”
Virgil folded his arms on the table. “The quiet ones are the freaks in bed.”
Archer glared at Virgil, who was having a stare down with Krys. Virgil loved injecting himself into every story with a story of his own.
Krys shook his head. “I don’t want to hear it.”
A smile played on Virgil’s lips. “You don’t say much, do you?”
Still rattled, Archer turned to his cousin. “Should I say something?”
Krys shrugged. “Depends on how you left it. Sex is sex. It’s all the same.”
“And sometimes it’s not,” Virgil added with a dash of expertise. “M&M’s are plain until you add a nut.” He zeroed in on Archer. “Was she insatiable? Did she get freaky-deaky? If she’s a wildcat, youalwaysgo back for seconds. Double-dip that chip. When you know how good it was the first time, the second is even better. Just don’t go for thirds.”
Krys absently scratched his dark goatee. “And why’s that?”
“Sweet summer child, three times isnotthe charm. When yougo for thirds, you enter a dangerous territory filled with relationship land mines. They want a real date. They want you to call them. They want to get serious. Virgil Nightingale doesn’t do serious.”
Archer adjusted the loose jacket sleeve that hung from his left shoulder. “Afraid they’ll open your skeleton closet and get buried in all the bones?”
Krys gave a dark chuckle. “Nothing about Taz is a secret. His skeletons are buried in the front yard like a cemetery.”
The music switched over to a country song, and Virgil reclined in his seat with his arms folded. “Shows what you know.”
After finishing his drink, Krys asked, “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I don’t drink sensory drinks for nothing. I’m a troubled soul.” Virgil grinned. “And like Elvis used to sing…”
Virgil did his best Elvis impersonation, singing a song about looking for trouble.
The girls at the dartboard turned to look, and when Virgil noticed, he stopped and winked at them. “Well? Are you going to talk to her or sit here like a chump?”
Krys suddenly hooked his arm around Archer. “Tough break.”
Confused, he directed his attention to the front. A long-haired man was kissing her or whispering in the woman’s ear. Archer’s first instinct was to jump out of his seat and knock him to the ground, but then she smiled at him before the guy made himself cozy in the chair across from her.
