“That’s a terrible idea. You’re both high as fuck right now.” I’m going to lose this argument, and I should go home. It doesn’t matter, though, because even when I’m high, I’m the responsible one.
“Duh, that’s why we’re calling a rideshare, bro.”
We end up in this bar that’s not high end, but not a total dive either. For a Sunday night, it’s pretty packed, and the second we open the door, I can hear why. Loud, off-key warbling is coming from a small stage as some poor drunk pair try hard to sing Bohemian Rhapsody. I’ve never been so glad that Freddy Mercury is dead.
“Stevie!” a voice screams from across the bar as soon as we walk in. He’s got his arm wrapped around my shoulder, pulling me along. He spins toward the voice just in time to catch the petite blond who’s launched herself at him. I’m half surprised they aren’t making out already, but then I’m also a little surprised she jumped at him like that and wasn’t worried about breaking her implants. It’s never been my thing, but Steve is here for the boobs. Real or fake doesn’t matter, so long as they’re big enough to smother him.
“Becky! Holy shit! Are you working here now?”
“Yeah.” She leans back in his arms, pushing her hair over her shoulder to present her name tag—and her boobs. “Oh my god, you can sit in my section and I’ll totally hook you up.” She turns to me. “Who do we have here?”
She gives me a wink, and I return a tight-lipped smile. When Coop stumbles in behind us, her eyes go a little too wide. His hat and sunglasses aren’t as good a disguise as he thinks they are.
“Becky, do me a favor, put us where no one is gonna bother us, okay?”
I glance around and shake my head. At this rate, it will only be a matter of minutes before someone clocks Chase. He’s hard enough to miss at 6’4” with long hair and a solid build, but he wasn’t even sober enough to grab a hatwithoutthe insignia of his brother’s team on the front. The bar is pretty small, but luckily she’s able to tuck us into a high-top table toward the back. She slides onto Steve’s lap with her arm around him like she’s here with us and not working.
“So, you going to introduce me to your friends, Stevie?”
“Oh, Mr. Angst and Brooding over here is James.” He winks and I just give him a glare that immediately says no to whatever he’s planning. “James, this is Becky. We met at one of the other bars closer to the college. Be nice.”
“Hi,” I offer, but she’s not looking at me—which is normal.
“And this dashing guy right here is?—”
“Hi, Becky, was it? I’m Antonio Banderas. Nice to meet you.”
“I totally knew you were someone famous! Oh my god! You look so much taller in person.”
“Younger too, I’m told.”
“Becky, babe, can you go get us a round of beers and shots of… whatever’s expensive and good?” Steve leans over and kisses her neck before whispering something. She hops off his lap and skips toward the bar, where she giggles and points us out to friends of hers.
“Dude, if you fuck this up, I’m not taking you out anywhere anymore,” Steve threatens, leaning over the table and pointing at me. “Girlfriend or not, try to fucking enjoy yourself!”
“Is that a promise? Because I’d really like that in writing.”
“Come on, man.” He grins. “Becky’s gonna hook us all up. Please don’t be an asshole. I just wanna get my dick sucked and play with her tits.”
I nudge Chase’s arm, and he looks up from his phone at Steve. “Uhh, whatever Barton said.” He flashes us a tooth grin and looks around the room.
Being out with the two of them is like wrangling cats, or very annoying toddlers. Chase will talk to anyone about anything. He’ll sign autographs, let people take pictures, and anything else to please a fan. He’s a genuinely nice guy, but he’s been struggling with some pretty debilitating anxiety and tries to keep a low profile when he can. Steve is a fucking terror. I’ve known him for almost fifteen years and he wasn’t always this playboy man whore, as Dani calls him. One wants to hide, the other wants to fuck, and I’m stuck in the middle.
Sure enough, Becky comes back a few minutes later with a bucket of beers, six shots, and two friends.
“Stevie, this is Amber and Tiffany.” I’m already willing to bet those aren’t their real names, but who the fuck uses their real name now, anyway? Amber comes around the table next to me and Tiffany slides up on Chase. And here’s the reason Steve hates taking me places where he’s trying to hook up. I’m an excellent wingman, unless it involves actually sleeping with someone just because my buddy wants to get laid. Steve’s people expect to be doing something sexual within the next ten minutes.
Steve and Becky excuse themselves almost immediately, ducking into the nearby bathroom.
“Hey, I’m sorry to disappoint you lovely ladies, but we’re both spoken for,” Chase says, which surprises me, but it means I’m not the evil villain tonight. The women let out a huff and storm off, mumbling something about Antonio Banderas. Chase tips back his beer and dumps his shot into a nearby plant that looks fake. “I have got to stop letting Steve convince me to come out to these places. So, you gonna tell me her name or what, man?”
“Alexis,” I sigh, sliding my phone over with a picture of her pulled up.
“Digging the hair. She’s fucking cute, man!” He looks around again as a new group takes over the Karaoke and it’s some twangy country song. “Did Dani set you guys up?”
“Sort of. It was a little of Dani’s matchmaking, weird timing, and a gig from Sam all coming together. We’re actually working together on a project.”
“Ooof, I hope that goes better for you than it has for me. How long have you been going out?”
