“Yep.” He leans in further. “But doesn't mean after the time’s up, if we're both down for it, there isn't some fucking happening. Foxy doesn't care as long as she doesn't know about it. Or anyone else.” He winks at me. “I'm getting us another pitcher. I'll be right back.”
Scout stands and makes his way to the bar.
My mind runs wild. Numbers weaving through my brain like a spider spinning a web. Money like that would take care of my debt and save Nana’s, no, my home.
Can I do it though? Be a date for someone and pretend like it's more than that?
I don't know how long I've been sitting there, going back and forth over it, when Scout sits back down.
“Is she hiring?” No need to get my hopes up if I don't have a chance of being hired.
“Yeah, pretty sure she is. I can give you the address to apply at. And hey…you’ve got a selling point.” He pauses to pour more beer in our glasses before continuing. “You're bi, so you have a larger market to make money.”
My eyes go wide. How did he know?
“How did you know? I didn’t come out until after I left for college.”
“Bradley, you didn't hide it as well as you think you did.”
I laugh.
“Besides, I caught you checking my ass out back then.”
I can feel my face heating, and it's not just from the alcohol. It's embarrassment at being caught even though it was years ago.
“It's okay. I'm hot. Bet there were a lot of straight guys that were turned gay by me.”
I can't help but laugh at his ego.
“I'm more gay than bi. Women are nice, but they're not really what I'm attracted to. I've slept with some, but it was more about them being a willing hole when a man wasn't around.” The beer must really be hitting me, with me being so open with Scout.
It's nice though. Having a friend to talk to that isn't an eighty-year-old woman.
“Do you think I have a chance of being hired?”
He gives me a hard look, scanning my body, even leaning over to look under the table.
“Fuck yeah. Put me down as a reference. Best thing is, you tell her your availability and she’ll work with it. I think you’ll do great.”
Fingers crossed what he says is true. But first things first. I need to actually get the job.
“Okay, now that we have a plan for you, let's have some fun.” Scout smiles widely before picking up his glass and downing the contents. “Let's do shots.”
Guess I'm about to have some fun.
Chapter 3
Bradley
Weclinkourglassesand down the first shot. I’m not sure what we got, but it burns like fire going down. Before we can take the next shot, Scout’s phone rings.
He picks it up, looking at the screen. Scout’s brows pinch, mouth tightening—not quite a frown, but the start of one. The corners of his mouth turn downward. Clenching his jaw he tilts his head a little. His hand stiffens around the phone, knuckles whitening just a touch.
“Junie Boo? What’s wrong?” Scout asks, and I look away, trying not to be an interloper on his conversation with his sister.
I catch bits and pieces as his body goes rigid —‘Who is?’, ‘Wait’. Tapping his arm, I get his attention and gesture toward the bathroom. He nods his head and keeps talking.
The hall to the bathroom is literally a foot from our table, so I don’t have to walk far.
