“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve got some points to earn,” Magnus said as he pushed his chair back from the table.
“If it’s from the twenty-point bucket, don’t forget to take Evan,” Atticus supplied kindly.
Evan flipped Atticus off.
“Where’s he goin’?” Slade asked, his question directed at Trey.
“There’s no tellin’ with him.”
Reese recalled most of the tasks on the scavenger hunt list, and any one of them could easily be performed in a restaurant. Granted, it might piss off the manager, but at the moment, he didn’t care. He was too damn curious to worry that they might get kicked out.
“Why don’t I take care of the bill,” Baz suggested, getting to his feet.
Reese chuckled. No doubt Baz was thinking they might get kicked out, too.
Whatever Magnus was about to do, Reese knew it would be interesting because Trey was scrubbing both hands down his face and shaking his head.
Reese was grinning as he watched Magnus walk up to a table full of guys. They stopped talking, their full attention shifting to Magnus. Everyone at Reese’s table was holding their breath, craning their necks to see what Magnus was going to do. Reese tried to look away when Magnus pointed back to their table. Since they were once again wearing the stupid veiled trucker cap, he wasn’t surprised that everyone’s focus shifted to him and Brantley.
Finally, the table full of guys seemed to relent, and one of them got to their feet. Magnus took his seat while the others cleared a few dishes out of the way.
Reese chuckled when Magnus and the guy put their elbows on the table. They drew the attention of several others in the restaurant, which in turn got the attention of even more. And then people were chanting and cheering as Magnus arm-wrestled the much bigger guy.
“Damn, he’s holdin’ his own,” RT said, jerking his chin toward Magnus. “You should watch, Trey.”
“No, thank you,” he grumbled, knocking back his margarita before stealing what was left of Magnus’s for good measure.
Even a few servers stopped to watch the action, laughing and smiling.
“How many points does he get for this?” Luca asked Z.
“Fifteen.”
“You memorized the points?” RT asked.
Z grimaced. “Of course I did. I’m the eggplant scorekeeper, dammit.”
Reese laughed. His brother always took his job seriously. No matter what it was.
“Oh, shit,” Brantley said. “He’s losin’ it.”
Sure enough, the bigger guy shifted the momentum, forcing Magnus’s arm back. Closer to the table. Closer. Magnus hung in until the very last second.
“Awww” erupted in a chorus around them as Magnus lost.
Reese watched as Magnus shook the guy’s hand and got to his feet before thanking the other guy who’d given up his seat.
“Fifteen points!” Magnus announced when he joined them.
“You should give him negative fifteen for losin’,” Brantley told Z.
“I’d like to see you beat him,” Magnus dared Brantley.
Oh, shit.
“Better yet, we should let Z do it,” Griffin stated. “Dude’s arms are massive.”
“I don’t wanna hurt nobody,” Z said casually, easily shrugging it off. “As of right now, Atticus’s team has five points. Evan’s has twenty.”
