“You’ve got no fucking choice. Besides, you’ll want to hear what I know about her ex.”
“You know something,” Zack said. “You gossip more than all the old women in Sunrise put together.”
Jake shrugged. “Your words wound me.”
Zack groaned as he stood up. “It’ll take a lot more than words to get through that thick skin of yours.”
“I’m dead.”
The bar lacked a few of the regular Friday nighters who were out in Waverford for the stag party, but it was still busy enough for a Friday when there wasn’t a band on.
Scott was malingering round the bar, looking about as happy as a bear brought out of hibernation during a snowstorm. Zack knew his brother’s bite was more of a nibble compared to his growl, but since Bonfire Night when he’d seen Keren, he’d been a bigger pain the arse than usual.
“You need to pay your tab from last time,” Scott said to Jake as they sat down at the bar. “Twenty-three quid.”
“Here’s my card,” Jake said. “And make it a large one for Zachary there.”
Scott looked at Zack hard and made a noise. “Thought you might have gone into Waverford. Or you might at least be on your way there, in case, you know, a certain redhead wanted a lift home and tucking in bed.”
“This gets even better,” Jake said. “Make mine a double too. Or maybe Zack’s not drinking?”
Zack checked his phone, ignoring both his brother and cousin, something he was well practiced at. There were two messages, both from Melanie Burns—the crush had materialised into a mutual scratching of itches every so often.
There was nothing from Sorrell.
“I promised to get them if they wanted a lift,” he muttered, knowing there was no point in keeping quiet about it as it seemed Scott already knew.
“Sorrell told me you’d mentioned it. She said how sweet she thought you were.Sweet. That’s just how you want to be described by a woman, isn’t it, Jakey?”
“Damn right, Scotty. I’m not aiming for sexy or tough or manly or hot. It’s all about being sweet. Well done, my man.” Jake slapped Zack on the back. “You’re shooting fish in a barrel with that one. The ex did a number on her, so drink up.”
Three shots of tequila were placed in front of them and Scott came round the bar. Clearly he was joining in.
Zack debated his options and decided that the tequila was the best path to take.
The three men lifted the glasses, tapped the bar twice with them, and necked back the alcohol.
“Tequila,” Scott said. “Ain’t nothing more soothing.”
“If that’s what you really think, you need to find yourself something other than your hand to occupy yourself with.” Jake gestured for another shot.
“Is that why you’ve bought a herd of alpacas?” Scott said without missing a beat.
“The direction of your thought concerns me greatly. We need to get you on Tinder. Or a better porn site.” Jake smiled at the bartender who smiled back, clearly not having read the ‘do not encourage’ sign in the staff manual.
“Maybe you should tell us about Sorrell’s ex, Jakey. Put Zack out of his misery,” Scott said. Ignoring each other was a skill the four of them had learned quickly, mainly out of necessity.
“Go on,” Zack said. “Tell me about her ex. Not that it matters.”
“Can we have three pints of Punk IPA, Abby?” Jake flashed his smile again.
Abby nodded, smiling back, but not in the way most women smiled at Jake.
“Make that four,” a voice came from behind them.
“Alex,” Jake said. “That’s well timed. It’s your round.”
“And happy end of shift to you too. Can I have a shot of tequila as well, Abs?” Alex, the third Maynard brother, said.
