Best Friends Don't Kiss

I give Brooke a quick look of apology. “Sorry, but I’m going to have to take a rain check. I just realized I need to get my friend home.”

“Is that your friend?” she asks after following my concerned line of sight.

“Yeah,” I answer, moving to climb around Trevor.

“Wait…is she your friend or your girlfriend?” Brooke questions skeptically.

“Could be his girlfriend, but no, they just have an incredibly weird friendship,” Trevor chimes in for me. Not exactly how I would have put it, but at least he’s saving me the effort of trying to explain it. “Probably two of the most good-looking people I know, get along better than anyone I know, yet they’re literally just friends. It boggles the mind.”

I sigh.

Brooke flashes an amused smile and pulls a pen out of her purse, jots down her number on a bar napkin, and tucks it into the pocket of my shirt as I finally make it out of the matrix of our table to head for the stage.

“Call me,” she orders with a bite of her lip. “For the rain check.”

I smile at her. “Okay.” She saunters off, and I turn back to my mission.

Trevor grabs me by the arm as I go to step away. “What the fuck, dude? Why didn’t you buy her a drink now?”

I glance toward the stage again, where Ava and the aviator-sunglasses-wearing douchebag have now started on a Bon Jovi duet. “Because of that.”

“What?” he questions. “She’s just having some fun.”

“She’s shit-faced,” I retort. “I’m not letting her go home with some idiot who is wearing sunglasses inside a damn bar, only to have her regret it in the morning.”

“Relax, man. I think he’s supposed to be James Dean.”

“Like I give a shit who he’s trying to be,” I grumble. “Did you make any headway with Jessica Rabbit?”

“Fucking nope. Apparently, she wasn’t digging my Fireball Mario costume.”

Personally, between the white overalls, red shirt, and fake moustache, I can understand Jessica Rabbit’s disdain.

“That’s great news,” I respond without hesitation. “Because you’re helping me get Ava home.”

“What?” he questions and adjusts his overalls.

“Get off your ass and help me get the dancing queen off the stage,” I say and stand to my feet.

“Dude, this night sucks balls,” he mutters but follows my lead.

Once I’m standing directly below Ava and her new karaoke friend, she glances down at me with glazed-over eyes and grins a slow, lazy smile. “Luke!”

“Hey, friend. Looks like you’re having some fun, huh?”

“Oh yeah!” she exclaims, but then two seconds later, hands the microphone off to Sunglasses and plops down into a sitting position with her legs hanging off the edge of the stage.

“Karaoke makes me tired,” she says and holds both hands out to place on my shoulders.

“You think it’s time to go home?” I whisper softly into her ear.

“Uh-huh.” Ava nods and lets her head rest on my shoulder.

“Aw. C’mon, sweetheart, we were just getting started,” Sunglasses says and sits down beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. The movement jostles her back to an unsupported sitting position and forces her hands to release from my shoulders. “How about you do another song with me, and then I’ll make sure you get home?”

“Nope,” I chime in before Ava can respond. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll make sure she gets home.”

Immediately, the guy jumps off the stage and gets in my face. “What are you, her fucking dad?” he spits, and I laugh.

Wow. This guy. He’s got some balls.

“Listen up because I’m only going to make myself clear once,” I say while Trevor helps a now-lying-down Ava off the stage and to a standing position. “She’s going home with us. End of fucking story.”

“Is that right?”

“That’s right.” I barely get the words out, and the drunk caveman swings one closed fist toward my face. I dodge it with ease. Either he has the reflexes of a tortoise, or he’s had way more to drink than me.

Red flashes behind my eyes, and I try, I really fucking try, to rein in my anger and walk away, but he attempts another punch.

Again, I dodge it, but when I hear Desi shout, “Kick his fucking ass, Luke!” from somewhere behind us, I can’t hold myself back.

One uppercut to the jaw and a hard shove to his chest, and I knock the bastard flat on his ass. He sits there stunned, and when I realize a crowd has started to form around us and no doubt the bar owner is in the process of calling the cops, I take a half-passed-out Ava from Trevor’s hold and swing her over my shoulder.

“Let’s go.”

“You know, buddy, I think all those hours you’re spending in the gym are paying off. You can scrap with the best of ’em,” he says through a laugh. “Not sure you’re going to need all those ninja moves when you’re floating around in fucking space, but good for you, man. Good for you.”