But come on, this hand is insured for eight figures. If I’m gonna get jerked off by any hand, it better be the one worth its weight in gold.
I use that hand to point to the bandana-topped woman. “No shots for you, either.”
I look away before I can see her irritation and pick out two more randos to be excluded, and then I land on a really awkward-looking guy who’s managed to hide himself in a shadow and looks like he’s scared to talk to women. He’s wearing a ratty Elfen Lied tee-shirt, and man, I had aphasewith that anime, so I grin at him. “Two shots for you, my friend.”
He lights up like this is the greatest moment of his life. I make a mental note to have a quick chat with the people I just denied shots to, sneak them some Jugs goodies, and then hook that guy up with a couple of tickets and an Uber home because seriously, I don’t know if he can handle two shots.
Maybe I’ll introduce him to Bandana Girl and really hype him up. See if I can get him laid.
I hop down off the bar and kiss both Misty’s and Frank’s cheeks in thanks. Honestly, Frank looks more appreciative of the kiss. He’s happily married, two kids and a dog and shit, but Misty’s pissed that I refuse to admit this isn’t my bar and I shouldn’t just be behind the bar pouring shots.
She snatches the bottle from my hand before I can pull it from its shelf, and she’s right, this is her job, and there’sprobably a bunch of legal whatnot because it’s alcohol, but I make myself happy counting out shot glasses. They’re the disposable ones with the waxed paper that always reminds me of the gym I had a membership to in high school. They had these giant jugs of mouthwash with pumps on them and a dispenser that these cups popped out of. I was a smelly teen and didn’t understand the complimentary rinse, but I liked the tingle of it enough that I always had a couple helpings of it.
I swear I still taste the cool mint in the wax as I throw back the first shot Misty pours. Everyone cheers like I’ve done something amazing, and I’m still high enough on adrenaline that I kind of want to start a bar fight. It feels good. This is the time.
If not now, when?
If not me, who?
Without bad there can be no good, which means that bad is good. Especially bar fights.
I look around for Gabe Shaunessy. He still owes me for what happened at the gala. I almost broke my hand punching his dick because he was wearing his cup like a fucking weirdo. But then I remember he’s not here. He’s on adate.
I scan the group some more, finally settling on Briggs. The server they’ve added to their Sunday night staff, Vera, is offering him a shot off her cocktail tray, but he’s a snobby son of a bitch. He wrinkles his nose and waves her off like a damn servant.
I could start a fight with him.
I hoist myself up and over the counter and get another round of cheers. And since I’m such a fucking hotshot, I don’t even need to muscle my way through. The crowd parts like the Red Sea for me.
I stomp straight through, on the path to Merrick, ready to clean his clock. The fucker doesn’t even see me. Gonna fuck him up. Everyone will think his black eye is from the game.
This is a good idea.
I cock my right arm back, only for it to get grabbed from behind. Whoever it is knows what he’s doing and is quick and seamless about tucking my fist behind my back.
Which means it’s Kai Bodley. He lives with me and Gabe and Merrick. When they recruited us all for the expansion team, Merrick bought a giant house, figuring there’d be a bunch of single guys who didn’t want to figure out housing, and he was right. But me and Gabe and Merrick are besties; Bodley’s just a teammate.
With one hell of a grip.
I squirm in that one-handed grip as Merrick strolls off like he has no idea how close he got to getting punched in the face. Asshole.
“Dude, what is your problem?” I snarl at Bodley.
“Seriously? You’re asking me that?”
“Yeah, I’m asking you that. I’m just trying to have a good time.”
Bodley releases my arm with a shove that has me stumbling a few steps, but I catch myself. “Bro!” I yell. “I could have fallen, asshat!”
“You were about to take a swing at Briggs, andthat’sgot you mad? The fuck has been your issue lately? The shit you pulled at the gala, and now this? Briggs and Shaunessy are your friends. And you’re going to get cut if you get your ass in trouble again.”
“I am a fucking god!”
Bodley looks like he’s about to breathe fire and just torch the entire bar for a few seconds, but then he hooks his armin mine and casually drags me out of the bar. I consider fighting back, but Bodley’s huge, one of those massive Polynesian dudes who make you think of those groupers that forgot to stop growing because they’re in the ocean, so what’s stopping them. And I don’t want to look like an idiot, so I just walk alongside him with our arms hooked together at the elbows.
Just bro stuff.
Outside, a few people are standing around, smoking. They try to strike up a conversation, but Bodley drags me away with some gibberish about drug testing. Just as well, because I can’t stand the smell of smoke. But then we’re going around the side of the building, where the dumpster is, and it might be night now, but that trash was out in the August sun all fucking day.
