I rolled my eyes. That was typical Silas, thinking with his dick. Still, I appreciated the sentiment.
I could always count on my friends to give me what I needed, whether it was real talk or comfort or a mashup of both.
“Love you guys,” I said as I opened my car door and slipped inside.
“Love you!” Maverick called.
“Text us all the dirty details!” Silas added.
As I drove home, a smile tugged at my lips. I might not be lucky with romance, but I’d won the lottery with my friends.
CHAPTER 19
“Never trust a man to understand his heart. TELL him what to think.”
— MATCHMAKING MAMAS
Hank
I liftedmy passion fruit mojito for a sip, and the little decorative umbrella poked me in the cheek. I plucked it out of my glass and hurled it onto the bar. “Stupid fucking thing!”
Fox glowered. “What crawled up your ass and died?”
He was decked out head to foot in black, his tank top ripped strategically to show flashes of skin and tattoo and nipple. It would be disturbing, but I was used to Fox’s club wear. He was on the prowl. His jeans were so tight that I was pretty sure if I let my gaze venture south, I’d be able to see his dick print. I resolutely kept my eyes up high. In Glitter Balls,it was dangerous to let your gaze drift unless you were ready to give out an invitation.
Which I wasn’t. Because I was a straight guy, out with his cousin. That wasall.
“I hate this place,” I grumbled.
“Hey, I wanted to go to Omaha. It wasyouridea to come here,” Fox pointed out. “And fuck knows why, because you hate playing my wingman in gay bars. So what gives?”
I shrugged. “Just sick of being at the house. I’ve got too much time to think.”
“Think about what?”
“Nothing. I don’t know. I just… Jamie is out tonight, so I figured, why not me too? If he’s going to move on and date, I should, you know, find some kind of social life, right?”
Fox’s eyes narrowed. “And you chose to find a social life at a gay bar where you can’t meet anyone?”
“Well…” I sipped tart mojito. “Maybe I didn’t think that part through. Or maybe…”
Fox’s lips curled up. “Oh, I see. We’recurious,are we?”
“No!” I said quickly, my gaze sweeping the interior of the bar. Neon light swept over exposed chests shiny with sweat. Muscular gym rats and sparkly twinks danced, embraced, kissed,fondled.I swallowed hard. “This isn’t really my scene.”
“No, it’s really not. So what gives?”
I tipped up my glass, finishing the mojito. “I thought I was gonna play wingman. Go find a guy. I’ll hang out here.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Fox swiveled on his seat and knocked the bar top. “We need a refill over here!”
The bartender gave us a distracted nod, then did a double-take, his eyes skimming over Fox, lingering on the ink peeking out of his shirt. “Be right there.”
Fox grinned and fluttered his lashes at me. “All right, you need to drink up and spill your guts so I can get laid. You’vegot…” He picked up his phone and checked the time. “Five hours.”
“Five? Why five?”
The bartender, a guy with dirty blond hair, blue eyes, and a thick layer of scruff, set a mojito in front of me, sans umbrella because he was obviously a quick study, and a shot of tequila for Fox.
