“Thanks, Bella.” I hold my arms out to her, waiting for a hug. I get one. “I needed to know that.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
Pulling away, I roll onto my knees and push myself up. “Now.” I sigh. “Let’s go get drunk.”
“It’s eleven in the morning.”
I arch my brow.
“On a Monday.”
“It’s five o’clock somewhere.”
“True.” Bella takes my hand in hers. “We haven’t done any day drinking in a long time.”
“We haven’t and, frankly, I deserve it.”
“You sure as hell do, my friend. You sure as hell do. Drinks are on me.”
“Hell yes!” I shout, raising my fist in the air. “To Brother’s.”
“To Brother’s.”
* * *
“Do—Doyou wanna know what your pwob—problem is?”
I’m staring directly into the eyes of a stranger. A very hairy stranger covered almost entirely in black leather. Head-to-fucking-toe leather.
“Enlighten me, sweetheart.”
“Your problem is you still believe in love.”
I guess not everything he’s wearing is leather. He’s sporting one of Bill’s T-shirts beneath his jacket. He’s a Taurus. The bull. It fits.
I felt the need to warn him since he admitted he rode all the way from Milwaukee on his motorcycle in search of his soul mate.
Even guys like this, big, hairy biker, are watching that stupid show.
We’re so screwed.
“I’m telling you, love is bullshit.”
“Don’t listen to her, Oscar.” Bella’s sitting on his other side. He’s being flanked by two of the drunkest women to ever grace the stools at Brother’s.
“It’s Oliver. Call me Ox.”
“Sure. Whatever.” She waves him off like she knows his name better than he does. “She’s brokenhearted while I….” She points at herself. “Am a realist.”
“A realist?” He’s taken a liking to Bella. Everyone does because remember—pinup girl?
“I know that love is possible, but it sucks, so why bother, whereas my bestie over there is a cynic and didn’t think love was possible, but then it happened to her so now she’s out of sorts.”
“That’s a lot of information, honey.”
Oliver or Ox or whoever the hell he is leans over to get closer to Bella. “What’syoursign?”
