She leaves, and I notice Dylan biting back a grin.
Mason is chuckling. “She wasn’t happy to see you sitting with us.”
“Should I be worried?” I ask, trying to keep my tone light even though my heart is racing from that look. “Might need one of you to walk me home for protection.”
“I’ll walk you home,” Jasper says immediately. There’s a muffled thump under the table, and Jasper’s eyes narrow dangerously. “Who the fuck just kicked me?”
Mason is looking entirely too innocent. “You deserved that.”
“Fuck you, man,” Jasper says, but there’s a grin threatening at the corners of his mouth.
Dylan is laughing. “You two are so obvious.”
“We weren’t going to let her walk home alone anyway,” Mason adds. “So Jasper calling dibs is irrelevant.”
“Dibs absolutely count,” Jasper argues.
Their banter is ridiculous and oddly endearing, and I can’t stop the smile spreading across my face.
“So,” I say, trying to redirect before they start actually wrestling under the table. “Another round of beer for everyone?”
“Sure,” Dylan answers, already signaling the server with a flick of his hand. “But fair warning, if you’re trying to get us drunk, it’s going to be a long night. We’ve got tolerances built up from years of late nights.”
“Challenge accepted.”
The waitress returns with another round of beer, and this time when she sets Slater’s beer down, she actually leans over him, her cleavage very deliberately in his line of sight.
“Here you go,” she says, her voice breathy. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you. Anything at all.”
Slater takes his beer. “Thanks. We need one more for Anita as well.” He glances my way, and the girl’s stare deepens when it lands on me.
“Absolutely.” And she rushes back to the bar.
The moment she’s out of earshot, Dylan bursts into laughter. “She’s going to give herself a hernia trying to get your attention.”
“Not my problem,” Slater says, taking a long drink.
“You could at least acknowledge that she exists,” Mason points out.
“Why? I’m not interested. Being polite would just encourage her.”
“He’s got a point,” Jasper says.
I’m watching this exchange with fascination when she returns with my beer, and also with a small plate. “I brought you those chocolate samples anyway,” she says to Slater, setting it down in front of him. “On the house. Just try one. I promise you’ll love it.”
She’s practically begging at this point, and I genuinely feel bad for her.
Slater stares at the plate for a long moment, then looks up at her. “I appreciate the gesture, but I’m not interested in dessert. But I’m sure my friends will enjoy them.”
The rejection is gentle but crystal clear.
She flushes red, grabs the plate, and retreats quickly.
Once she’s gone, I can’t help myself. “That was almost painful to watch.”
“She’ll survive,” Slater says.
“You could have been nicer about it,” Mason says.
