“Blow jobs!” She raised a fist in the air. “I will celebrate my freedom with blow jobs.”
“What?”
“Cool your jets, Molly,” Conor said. “It’s amaretto, Irish liqueur shit, and whipped cream.”
“Yep, a fucking blow job!” Lauren pushed my chest, making my beer slosh over the sides of the glass. “Remember I used to drink you under the table, Nazarov? You were such a lightweight.”
Conor winced on my behalf. I was not a lightweight, but I usually gave up early so the girl I liked wouldn’t suffer alcohol poisoning in her bid to out-drink me.
“Yes, just like you beat me in arm wrestling.” I tried to freeze out Conor with a glacial glance. “You can leave now.”
“I dunno. Looks like things are just getting interesting here.”
Lauren grabbed Conor by the collar. “Tell me, Connie. Did he ask you to invest in anything?”
Conor shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve spoken more than ten words to him. If that guy was a song, he’d be ‘All Star’ by what’s their name.”
“Smashmouth,” she said morosely.
“Yeah. He’s got weird frat bro energy.”
“Now you tell me!”
I uncurled Lauren’s fist from Conor’s person and addressed him directly, “Your services are no longer required.”
“Sure, Molly. I’ll keep an eye on you from over there.”
He cared for her, that much was clear. Lauren had grown up with the Rebels and their children, so she was well-rooted in this community. Well, I cared, too. I had to protect her reputation and ensure she was not the target of ridicule or gossip.
A husband in the shadows was not an enviable position.
Conor walked away while Lauren leaned—or rather, slouched—against the juke box.
“How are you here?”
“News of your heartbreak has reached my end of town.”
“Small town shit stirrers.”
“He did not make you happy, Lauren. You are hurting now, but soon you will realize that this is for the best.”
Her brow knitted furiously. “I don’t need you to tell me that. But I also want to grieve the relationship, the time I spent because it wasn’t all terrible. For a while I felt like a woman who could actually attract a normal man.”
What was this nonsense? Lauren was the whole package: beautiful, strong, quick-witted and foul-mouthed. Any man would be blessed to have her in his life.
Had I contributed to this self-defeating talk in some way? Perhaps my rejection of her all those years ago had insinuated itself into her psyche. I did it for her own good, though she would not appreciate that take.
Which was why I could never tell her.
Then there was Las Vegas. Perhaps she thought she could only get a husband if he was an asshole like Thad or inebriated like me. If only she knew …
“Why would you want normal, Lauren? Are you not worthy of better?”
She stared at me hard, her hazy gaze coming into focus. “Oh, is that supposed to be you? You’re the last person to be giving pep talks.”
Perhaps. But I wanted to be the one who supported her in every way, all the same.
“I can take you home.”
