“Same,” Gracie adds weakly.
“Tasha and Saaha, I get how you two were egged on,” I grin teasing. “But Gracie? You don’t seem like the type to get caught up in guy-driven chaos.”
“It’s Thomas,” she mutters, voice muffled. “Ever since we were kids, he’s known exactly how to get under my skin.”
Tasha finally lifts her head, eyes glittering with mischief. “Well, we had to entertain ourselves somehow, since the lady of the hour disappeared to get her brains screwed out in the office bathroom.”
Heat rushes to my face. “How do you even know that?”
“We were worried when your caveman dragged you off,” Gracie says. “Somehow, Tasha convinced Collin to bring us up with the others.”
“And when we burst in to rescue you,” Tasha says, ever the dramatic, “we heard.” She deepens her voice. “Cyan, don’t stop. Harder.”
Saaha props her head in her hands. “My personal favorite was—Cyan, your cock is so addictive it should be worshiped.” The kitchen explodes with laughter.
“Guys,” I groan, mortified. “Rosa is right here. What must she think of me now?”
Rosa turns around, a plate of pancakes in hand, and winks. “What do you think? I wasn’t always an old widow. I know what it is to have a MacBrady man.” We all pause–then dissolve into even louder laughter.
“I’m sorry,” I say once the noise dies down. “I didn’t mean to abandon my own party.”
Tasha waves it off. “Please. You ditched us to get laid. I’m just happy you’re finally getting some regular vitamin D.”
“So,” I glance around the table, “how did you all end up in a drinking game of all things?”
Tasha lifts her head an inch, squinting like the light personally offended her. “Ari, when your man carried you off, I did what any red-blooded woman would do.” She straightens, rolling her shoulders like she’s back in a bar instead of a kitchen. “I went hunting.”
I snort. “Of course you did.”
“I hit the bar, locked eyes with my target, and gave him you’re about to get lucky tonight smile.” She flashes it now.
“Oh, Tash… yeah, that smile’s undefeated. What went wrong?”
Tasha exhales hard and throws her hands in the air. “Collin… fucking… MacBrady.” Saaha winces. Gracie’s mouth tightens. “He strolls up like he owns the oxygen, introduces himself as my man,” Tasha disbelief sharpening every word. “Ari, I swear, the guy I was talking to evaporated. One second there, the next second–gone. Like he saw the devil and decided to repent.”
Thinking about the first time I met Collin, I say. “That tracks,” I mutter.
Her fingers drum against the table. “That’s when I got him to bring us up to the office to make sure you were alright. Once we found out you were okay, I tried again. New target, new smile and what does Collin do?” She laughs, sharp and humorless. “Cock-blocks me. Again.”
Her jaw tightens for half a second before she forces a grin. “I wish I had Trevor with me to knock some sense into him.” No one laughs this time. “So,” Tasha reaches for her cup, Rosa places in front of her. “I pivot. With the girls’ help, I decide to drink him under the table and when that failed, I, I—.”
She takes a sip, makes an expression, and then something small flickers across her face. It’s only because I know her, I’d notice, and it’s gone almost as soon as it appears. “I had the last laugh.” she shrugs then a half-smirk curves her mouth. “I was funny though, watching two grown men run like scared puppies? I can’t believe Collin declaredtwicethat I was his.” The statement hangs there as she stares into her steaming cup.
“Tasha, I don’t know what to think about that. But I cou–”
She waves me off, too fast. “Don’t.” Her smile snaps into place, bright but brittle. “He wanted a reaction; he got one. End of story.” Her fingers curl tighter around the mug’s handle. “I made one of the worst decisions of my life last night. Now my body hates me, my organs are floating, and I’m pretty sure Irish whiskey is a hate crime.”
She shrugs, already shifting gears, as Rosa sets a cup of jasmine tea in front of me. I watch her over the rim of my cup. MacBrady men don’t make false claims. I decide I’ll talk to Cyan. Collin’s unpredictable. Tasha’s deflection tells me she’s not telling me everything. For now, I let it go.
“Drink up,” Rosa says brightly, lining cups up in front of Saaha and Gracie. “It’s my special hangover remedy.”
Saaha sniffs hers, her nose wrinkling. “This smells like stinky feet. As a medical professional, I have to ask–does it actually work?”
Tasha takes another sip then eyes her cup as if it personally wronged her. “If this doesn’t save me, tell my story.”
“It does.” Gracie takes a sip. “Unfortunately.”
Tasha squints at her. “You know, I keep forgetting you grew up with those guys. How’d you even end up in their orbit?”
