Fuck.
“Yeah, no problem,” I say, but in reality, it is a very big problem.
He rushes out, and I reluctantly make my way to where I left Jo. This time, instead of playing pool, she’s dancing on one of the tables.
Oh, good lord.
Holding a bottle of beer in her hand, she sways to the slow song playing over the speakers.
“Jo, what are you doing?”
“What does it look like, Stephenson? I’m dancing.”
“Why are you doing it on top of a pool table?” I question.
“Why not?”
“Number one, you’re probably going to hurt yourself. Number two, everyone’s staring. And number three—“
“Hey, Beau, why don’t you get the stick out of your ass and join me?”
“I’m good,” I reply, not the least bit amused.
A faster song starts playing, prompting her to start doing a way sexier dance. All of the men around us start cheering.
The cheering gets even louder when she grabs the hem of her shirt and starts to pull it over her head. She doesn’t get very far, though. Her foot slips on one of the balls, and she falls backwards. As quickly as I can, I reach up and grab her hand to pull her towards me as she falls so that I can catch her.
She throws her head back and laughs, not even realizing the owner of the bar comes over to us.
“Get her out of here, Beau,” he prompts.
With her still in my arms, I start to walk toward the door. I’m scared to put her down because I know I’d probably have a fight on myhands.
“Where are we going?” She asks.
“You’ve been asked to leave.”
“Why?” She squeals.
“Because you were dancing on the pool table and almost broke your neck.”
She lets out an obnoxiously loud sigh. “Man, you guys are no fun. You should see if he wants to measure the sticks up your asses—you know, you can see which one is bigger.”
“I’ll get right on that,” I mutter.
When we are outside in the cool night air, she says, “You can put me down, you know.”
“I don’t trust you to not run back in to that bar. Plus, I want to make sure you get back to Dylan’s without killing yourself.”
“Well, aren’t you Mr. Chivalrous?”
“No. I just know your brother would kill me if I let anything happen to you.”
“Pssh. I’m way scarier than Dylan.”
As we walk through the streets of Lilly Leaf Falls, she makes up a song about the stick I have up my ass. I try to tune her out, but damn it, she’s so annoying.
Finally, I say, “If I put you down, do you promise to walk with me back to Dylan’s?”
