“Oh, good,” I mutter. “You found my tux.”
Brian arches a brow. “If by found you mean I had Ollie excavate it from the depths of his cave-of-wonders closet like it was in witness protection, then yes. Yes, I did.” He winks and shoves the bag into my chest. “You’re welcome.”
I drape the tux over the nearest chair and mentally consider my options.
Shredder?
Fire?
Unfortunately, both require privacy. And since they’ve made themselves annoyingly comfortable, that’s not happening anytime soon.
Zac pats my cheek. “Hannah gave us a heads-up that you might attempt a daring escape.”
Brian tsks, smooths his cuff, and preens in front of the mirror. “The kids sold out the location of your tux for a pack of chocolate-covered marshmallow Santas.”
I snort. “Is that really the going rate for my children’s betrayal?”
Zac presses a flask into my palm. “Relax. I brought your reward for adulting.”
I’m already twisting the cap. “So there is a god.”
He grins. “I’m more of a divine enabler. Patron saint of booze.”
“Do not forget bad decisions,” I add, taking a swig.
Cherry sugar melts into whiskey on my tongue. Sweet. Sharp. My new favorite.
“Speaking of bad decisions…” He drops into a chair and gets comfortable. “Tell me you did not physically redirect Little Miss Pixie Stick into the arms of Travis.”
“Seriously?” Brian stares at me like I just confessed to a felony. “You threw her at the guy all the PAs refer to as Mr. Hemsworth.”
I blink. “I thought that was his name. Travis Hemsworth.”
They lose it, bursting into laughter.
I run a hand down my face, a low growl slipping free.
Which makes them howl even louder, doubled over and wiping tears.
My brain flips me the middle finger and shifts into overdrive. Now all I can see is her. And him.
And… fuck. Did that motherfucker touch the small of her back as he let her in the car?
The metal flask pops hard in my death grip.
All laughter abruptly stops.
Zac smirks. “Something on your mind, big guy?”
I tip back what’s left in the crumpled flask. “Nope.”
His eyes gleam as his smirk widens. “Liar.”
“I’m not lying,” I lie.
“I saw the way you looked at her.”
“How did I ‘look at her?’” I say with air quotes.
