Page 106 of Over the Limit

“But not on this floor,” he says, and I’m hoping he’s too drunk to keep up this line of questioning.

“Blair. Hi,” I say as she narrows her eyes at me. I’m not sure if that’s because she’s pissed I’m interfering or happy that I am.

I’m here.

Doesn’t matter now.

“Rossi.” He keeps looking at Blair. “Oliver,” I say, and that startles him. He looks back at me. “Let’s go have a drink together.”

“You? A drink with me? On a school night?” He laughs at his own joke. “I’m sure the Apex powers that be would be thrilled with that.”

“No one controls us,” I say to feed into his loner bullshit while taking his arm and pulling it around my shoulder. “C’mon. Leave Blair alone. Let’s go have a drink.”

“You sure?” he asks.

He’s going to be in bad shape tomorrow. Never a good look during race week. And an even rarer one at that.

“I’m sure.”

It doesn’t take us long to make our way to the bar down the street from the hotel. It’s a hole in the wall I’ve been to before. It has dark lighting and a keep-to-yourself attitude, and that’s exactly what we need right now.

That and maybe the dim lighting and his inebriation will allow me to mask my lies even more.

We keep our hats low over our brows and our heads down toward the floor as we walk in and toward a table in the back. It doesn’t matter though. The people in this bar want nothing to do with anyone other than to be left alone so they can drown their sorrows.

Seems like a perfect place for Rossi right now.

We sit in silence as the waitress takes our drink orders. It’s clear she’s anxious to be off shift or is more concerned with trying to impress a guy at the bar by the way she barely even looks our way when taking our orders.

It’s perfect.

“So,” I say once drinks are in front of us, “want to tell me what that was all about?”

“No.” He takes a long drink and the fact that the burn doesn’t faze him one bit tells me how far gone he is.

“No?”

“What’s it to you?” he snaps. Clearly the jovial guy from moments ago is now gone.

“I’m just trying to figure out why you’re at Blair’s door drunk off your arse when I think I’ve seen a different woman leave your hotel room every night we’ve been here.”

“Fuck off. Don’t you have something else to do other than butt in, huh, Evans?”

“Butt in? We share a hotel room wall. You’re not exactly quiet and the women you choose seem to be all for show if the screaming is any indication.”

“Or I’m just that good.”

“Yeah. Right. That’s exactly it.” I take a sip. “The tough-man shit gets old, Oliver.”

“So does the holier-than-thou shit.” He sniffs. “And stop calling me Oliver.”

“Look. I’m trying to be a friend but it’s getting harder and harder to try when you’re a dick, Oliver.” Fuck it. I threw that one in for good measure.

“Perfect. At least I’m successful at something.”

“Fine. Whatever.” I scoot back my chair and go to leave.

“Evans. Wait.”