“Scavenger hunt donuts,” Amber complained. “I’m bored of barhopping.”
“We just started barhopping,” Roni said.
“Hey, what’s up with you?” Dylan reached across Amber and poked me. “You okay, man?”
“Uh-huh,” I said. “You ever have that moment when you realize your life is a tired old porno?”
Dylan’s green eyes crinkled, one corner of his mouth lifting as he smiled at me, that gorgeous crooked smile of his. “Nope.”
“My life is a fucking fantastic porno,” Matt said.
“Me too,” Xander said. “Let’s all go back to my place and make a porno.”
“Let’s not,” Amber said.
“Let’s go back to Zane’s,” Jesse suggested.
The party had started with dinner at Zane’s house—yesterday.
Zane Traynor, Dirty’s lead singer, had hosted several of my breakup parties over the years; it was pretty much tradition by now. This time, the rather civil dinner had been followed by a friendly-ish high stakes poker game at a posh hotel, just eight of us guys. But that had gone most of the night. A few of us hadn’t even slept, and the party had rolled right into the morning, with a catered breakfast and a visit to a topless psychic, who told me, among other weird, useless things, that she saw a ring in my future.
When Dylan asked if that was a wedding ring or a circus ring, she said she didn’t know.
Fucking brilliant.
That was followed by a lunch buffet at a strip club where I was treated to a private room with both female and male entertainment, then another dinner with more of my friends joining in.
Zane had outdone himself, as usual, but no way were we going back to his place now. Not everyone wanted to drink their bodyweight in booze and stuff cash in g-strings all night. Go figure, right? But these days, Zane’s number one focus was staying sober and married, so barhopping around the clock wasn’t exactly high on his priority list.
“We’re all drunk,” I said. “We’re not going back to Zane’s.”
“Yeah. That would be dickish,” Amber agreed. “They’re probably sleeping anyway.”
“It’s five after nine,” Seth informed her, and Amber’s jaw dropped in confusion. Drunk as we were, it would’ve been easy to assume that it was like one in the morning at this point, but I was pretty sure Seth was right. He was sober, and besides, the sun had just gone down.
“Zane and Maggie aren’t sleeping at five after nine,” Xander informed her. “They’re fucking.”
“Which is why we should go over,” Jesse said with a wicked grin.
“Nah, let’s go to the island,” Dylan said, tapping Seth’s boot with his. “You coming?”
“I have a choice?” Seth said.
“Mmm, nope,” Roni said.
“Anyone okay to drive the boat?” Matt asked.
“Connor can drive,” Dylan said. “Can’t you, Con?”
“Yup,” Con said. I glanced over at Dylan’s bodyguard, who was stretched out at the far end of the limo, behind the driver’s seat. Haz, sitting next to him, nodded at me, likeDon’t worry, brother, I’ll make sure your drunk ass gets home in one piece.
None of the members of Dirty seemed fazed that we were dragging security around the city with us while we partied. It was their job, sure, but I wasn’t quite used to having a bodyguard of my own yet. Still kinda felt like an asshole getting drunk and stupid while Haz watched over me like I was a toddler.
“In case you haven’t figured it out,” Summer announced, “Seth isn’t leaving town with us. Elle could go into labor at any second. He’s just being polite. First chance he gets, he’s ditching our drunk asses.”
“That true, brother?” Matt asked.
“Afraid so,” Seth said, smiling.
