Crazy (The Gibson Boys 4)

Patrons fill the booths dotted along the wall parallel to the bar. Others take their chance with darts and pool sticks in the back. Navie makes a drink for one of the men sitting at the bar. Her head falls back as she laughs at something he said.

Peck is nowhere to be seen.

I suck in a breath and head her way.

“Hey,” she says as I approach. “Where’s Peck?”

“I’m not sure. He said he’d meet me here.” I get situated on a stool. “Um, how are things tonight?”

Navie laughs. “Relax, Dyl. You look like you’re ready to go in for a root canal.”

“I do not.”

She shakes her head and hands me a beer. Hoisting a finger in the air to a woman at the end, she leans in. “Have fun. Meet people. This place is a lot of fun if you let it be.”

“I’ll try.”

She grins, letting out a little laugh. “I gotta work. But I’ll check on you in a bit.” She scoots down the bar to the woman with the red bandana wrapped around her head.

I take a sip of my beer, giving a forced smile to the man sitting three chairs down. He tips his bottle my way before turning back to the television he can’t possibly hear hanging above the coolers.

“Hey, roomie.” Peck’s voice is inches away from my ear. It makes me jump. He chuckles, taking the seat next to me. “Sorry it took so long. My brother showed up at Nana’s, so I got sidetracked. I haven’t seen him or his boy in a long time.”

“You didn’t have to leave for me,” I say. “Do you need to go back?”

“Nah. He was getting Sawyer ready for bed. I told him to come up here, but I think he was looking forward to a low-key night.”

“I get that.”

Peck grins, and I think the whole place lights up.

My chest burns with some unnamed emotion as he takes off his black baseball hat and runs a hand through his hair. The air is kissed by the scent of his cologne. My view is blessed by the sight of him in a plain white T-shirt. He moves to accept a beer from Navie, and I can almost see the lines of his body move under the cotton.

“So,” he says, pausing to take a drink. “What do you think?”

That you are delicious.

“Um, yeah.” I fight to remember the question. “I, yeah. I think this place is nice.”

He laughs at my confusion. “This place is not nice, Hawkeye. But you get two points for being polite.”

“It is,” I insist, a laugh in my voice. “I like it. It feels homey. Homier than the last time I was here.” I cringe internally because I have no idea where I was going with that, and now I sound like a fool. “You know what I mean.” Even though he doesn’t. He can’t. I don’t even know.

His brows raise, pulling up the corners of his lips into a grin as he takes a drink.

“Look at you two. My two cute best friends,” Navie says.

I glance up to see her standing beside Machlan.

My mouth goes dry. His short dark hair is styled in a way that looks like he just got out of bed and rolled with it. Tattoos dot his skin, and a wicked smile toys on his lips.

Shit.

“I don’t think we’ve actually met,” Machlan says to me. “I’m Machlan.”

“I’m Dylan.”

“Like I told you,” Navie says, “she’s my best friend. Besides you, Peck, of course,” she says with an exasperation that makes us all laugh.

I press my lips together, feeling my cheeks heat. Why in the world was Navie dating a douchebag named Logan if she had such gorgeous best friends and co-workers? Clearly, she had better options.

I’m looking at them. And the night has just started.

Her eyes perk up, and I know some shit is about to be stirred. I grip the sides of my chairs as I silently plead with her not to do whatever it is she’s about to do. She grins.

“Hey, Mach. Did you know Dylan and Peck are living together?” she says.

“I did not,” Machlan says, looking at Peck. “Why didn’t you mention that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because it’s none of your fucking business?”

“He’s renting me rent a room,” I say. “It’s not a big deal.”

Machlan’s attention lands on me. I shift in my seat under the weight of his gaze.

“Dylan, with all due respect—a woman who looks like you is living with Peck. It’s a big fucking deal.”

He flashes me a grin that would probably melt weaker individuals. But as Peck opens his mouth to fire something back at his cousin, I decide to intervene.

“Well, thank you for what I’m taking as a compliment,” I say. “I’ll be sure to keep you posted on any other ‘big fucking deals,’ should they happen.”