I picked up my water bottle and flicked it in his direction. Droplets sprayed through the air, sprinkling over him.
"I'm thinking about un-inviting you for dinner." I put the bottle down while he wiped his arm dry with his hand.
"Don't do that," he said. "Everyone knows you're the smart one here."
"They do? Who is everyone?"
He waved a hand around my otherwise empty terrace. "Oh, you know, everyone."
"That's vague," I said.
"Isn't it though?" he agreed. "I guess I'll leave you to figure out that one. Maybe your girl will give you a hand."
"She's not my girl," I replied. If it was anyone but Bam, or maybe Chase, I'd get annoyed with him. Instead, I'd wait for a good opportunity to insult him in return. They usually didn't take too long to appear.
"And if I’m smart, how many brain cells do you have? Six??" I asked.
He grinned. "Being as good looking as me, I only need six."
"Keep telling yourself that." I patted him on the shoulder. "It might even come true some day."
"Hey." He huffed. "Give me this win." After a moment, he added, "My mom thinks I'm cute." He immediately looked sorry. "Hey. Sorry, bro."
"Yeah." I shrugged it off like I always did. No big deal. It was the past, right? A long time ago. "We should see if dinner is ready."
"If Aunt Dolores made tacos, she's officially my favourite person on the planet," Bam declared.
"I'm hurt," I said. "I thought I was your favourite."
"You would be if you cooked tacos." He nodded. "I'm a simple man, with simple needs."
"Evidently," I replied. "What are you going to do if you fall into ‘temporary insanity’ for a woman who can cook? The single life might not look so good then."
"Aunt Dolores is the only woman for me," he said.
"Aunt Dolores' husband wouldn't be so happy," she said from the doorway.
"Reverse harem," Bam said. "What?" he added when I gave him a funny look. "It's a thing, look it up."
Aunt Dolores, who was in her mid-sixties, snorted loudly. "You couldn't keep up with me anyway." She turned to me and said, "Conrad, dinner is ready."
She flatly refused to call me Hawk. "Your mom gave you a perfectly good name," she would say.
"Will Abraham be joining you?" She looked him up and down as though she disapproved of him. They went through the same routine every time he had dinner here. "It's not tacos."
Bam groaned. "Even if it's not tacos, I find I can't say no to your gracious invitation. Thank you."
"I didn't invite you," she said.
"With your eyes, you did," he said.
"You're bordering on inappropriate there, buddy," I said.
"He crossed that line long ago," Aunt Dolores said. "Go wash your hands and sit. I'll serve dinner." She disappeared inside.
What did I do to attract mother figures wherever I went? I didn't mind, not a bit. Heavens knew I was pretty crap at looking after myself if left to it.
"Now, if I could find a woman like her, but forty years younger, I might reconsider the single life," Bam sighed.
I shook my head. "A woman like her would run a mile away from guys like us."
"Lucky we can run fast." Bam grinned.
I chuckled and waved him inside. Some day the right woman would catch his eye.
Which left me to wonder, would I catch anyone's eye, and their heart?
Or had I already?
