“You make like five times what I do. Fuck off.” Regardless of the reason, he was glad to see Brandon twice in a short period of time. He was also glad to see he had a full house in his hand. He slid a twenty in the center of the table.
“Ten times, more likely,” Brandon said, with a grin.
“It doesn’t matter if this is real or not,” Sullivan insisted. “It’s a perfect excuse to go to the strip club and no one can give us crap for it.”
Rick tossed a handful of chips in his mouth. “I don’t want to go to the strip club. There’s only one woman I want to see naked and that’s Sloane.”
“Yeah, my sister, you asshole. Thanks for that visual.”
“Your sister is hot. Get over it.”
Sullivan sipped his whiskey. “Me: Don’t have sex with my sister. Rick: whips his dick out and falls on her five minutes later.”
“That’s a lie. It was her idea that first night, if you want the truth.”
Sullivan grimaced. “No, I don’t want the truth. I want nothing to do with your sex life with my sister.”
“Can we all talk about my sex life?” Jesse asked. “Because it’s fucking awesome.”
That made Axl laugh. “No. Let’s talk about the Vikings. I’d rather argue with you guys about football than women.”
Sloane popped her head into the back room. “Uh, guys, I need to talk to you.”
“Get out,” Sullivan said. “You’re not allowed in here.”
Sloane rolled her eyes at her brother. “Whatever, loser. My dad owns half this bar, you know. But anyway, there is kind of a commotion out here. Leighton and her friends have arrived.”
That made Axl look over at her in alarm. “So?” Leighton wasn’t a party girl. He didn’t think. She hadn’t mentioned she’d be coming to Tap That but it wasn’t surprising. It was the largest pub in town.
“There are a bunch of guys hitting on her friends. And maybe her.”
“Are her friends hot?” Jesse asked.
“I don’t know. I guess.” Sloane shrugged. “But Leighton looks uncomfortable so I thought Axl might want to know.”
Axl figured if Sloane thought it was worth mentioning than it wasn’t just some random guy offering to buy her a drink. He stood up. “Nobody look at my hand.”
What he saw when he went out into the bar had him grinning instead of concerned. Leighton was sitting at a table reading a book. She was sipping a glass of wine. As if she were at home in her apartment instead of in the midst of her bachelorette “party.” There was a group of people he didn’t recognize right behind her. The women were thin and tan and strangers to him, presumably her California friends. He recognized the men ogling them as locals.
Jackson, the cameraman, was sitting next to Leighton looking annoyed.
“Hey,” Axl said, coming up behind her and massaging her shoulders. “What are you doing here? And why are you reading a book in a bar.”
She looked up. “Hi. My friends wanted to see a local bar so I wanted to make them happy but I’m exhausted. Whenever I’m beat down I turn to Jane Austen. Comfort reads.”
He kept rubbing her shoulders. He didn’t doubt that she was exhausted. She had been going nonstop for six days. “You know what I want?” he murmured, bending over to speak straight into her ear.
“What?”
“I want to throw you over my shoulder, take you home, and spend the night in bed.” He liked his friends but he saw them all the time. And they didn’t have bodies like Leighton.
She shook her head. “That’s not going to happen, though I doubt I would have the energy for it anyway. I have about two minutes before they realize I’m not doing a shot and come over to drag me to the bar. Oh, and Jackson wants to do an interview.”
Axl eyed Jackson, who looked glum. “Do we really have to do an interview?” Axl asked him, giving him a stern look he hoped would intimidate him into backing down. Jackson didn’t look thrilled about any of this so maybe he could talk him out of it. “Leighton is tired.”
“We really should, unfortunately.” Jackson sipped a craft beer. “Can you believe it was just a week ago we were here for Winnie’s bachelorette party? It feels like I’ve been in this town a thousand years.”
Seven days. That was kind of crazy to think about. It felt both like he’d known Leighton for a while and yet like he’d blinked and this week had disappeared.