They both nodded, and Noah said, “You like Poosh.”
“Poosh is a dog. Poosh is fine.” I uncapped both their beers and slid them across the bar to them. “Small animals that are not dogs or cats freak me out.” How many times did I have to say that?
Was it so weird? Didn’t all kinds of people hate rats and mice and stuff like that? Was my dislike of anything with tiny hands and claws that could rake out my eyeballs so strange?
I didn’t think so.
“You’re weird,” Preston said, handing me a twenty.
I snatched it. “Today, your girlfriend texted me a picture of the sweaters her grandmother knitted for the baby raccoons. You can shut up.”
“Sweaters? For raccoons?”
I looked up and caught Ethan’s eye. “Oh, look, it’s the fourth musketeer.”
“There were only three of those.”
“You’re still on my shit list, roomie.” I grabbed another beer, uncapped it, and set it on the bar. I rung up all three beers and handed Preston back his change. “Are you three going to watch the game or bug me all night?”
“Wow. The service in this place has really gone downhill.” Ethan smirked.
“I don’t know,” Noah said. “You haven’t seen her drunk-dancing on the tables. That’s why half the punters are here tonight. For her Coyote Ugly moves, not her ability to pour a pint of beer.”
“You dance on the tables?” Ethan stared at me like he’d never heard of anyone doing such a thing. Ever.
I held up a finger. “One time. I danced on the tables one time, and nobody will let me forget it.”
Preston snorted. “No, we will not.”
I pursed my lips. I didn’t come to work to be abused like this. “You know I can refuse to serve you, right?”
“I’ll open a suggestion box that means you have to dance on the tables once a week,” Leo said. “I’m mad nobody videoed that for me.”
Noah shrugged. “We were trying to control the betting circle Reagan and Halley had set up.”
“Yes, yes, the infamous Lucky’s betting ring. The game is about to begin, and I know you can’t see the screens from here, so scoot.” I waved my hands, shooing them away from me.
Chuckles rose from all of them, and Noah winked at me as they all disappeared, leaving me in peace.
Well, as much peace as a twenty-something woman could get in a sports bar when it was football season.
Not a lot, to be honest.
Luckily, the game meant the bar was packed, and that meant my shift went quickly. I’d started at three, so by the time the game was over, so was my shift. I finished the order I was ringing up and pocketed my tips, then headed out the back.
The guys were all still here, and that meant I was going to have to drive them home. How did I know that?
Preston and Noah had decided that two weeks ago. Unfortunately for me, my Friday shift never changed.
I tucked my tips into the inner zip portion of my purse and dug my keys out from the abyss, bypassing two tubes of Chapstick, six receipts, an empty gum packet, a phone lead, a pocket mirror, a bottle of nail polish, a travel-sized tube of toothpaste, a sock, and a Chinese take-out menu on the way.
I really needed to clean out my purse.
My keys jingled as I made my way to the front of the bar and to the guys’ table. They were all done, and both Preston and Noah grinned at me as I approached.
“Come on, Cinderella. Your ride awaits,” I said dryly, waving my keys at them.
Ethan raised his eyebrows. “What?”
“She takes us home every Friday. It’s payback for the dancing night.” Preston grinned.
I stared at them flatly. “I’m leaving in ninety seconds. If you’re all not in my car by then, you’re walking.”
I’d barely taken five steps when the sound of four chairs scooching across the wooden floor broke through the chatter of the bar. I snorted to myself and pushed the door open to step outside.
Dim lights illuminated the parking lot off to the side of the bar, and I paused to hit the button on my key fob. The lights of my car flashed, brightening the parking lot, revealing the crumpled-up body of someone against the dumpster.
I froze.
Someone walked into my back.
I screamed, stumbling forward, and two hands landed on my arms to steady me.
“What?” Ethan’s voice was right behind my ear, and I knew it was his hands on my arms.
“There’s, um, someone on the floor.” My voice was weak and shaky. “In front of the dumpster.”
“Oh, shit,” Noah said, jerking to life. He ran past all of us, his firefighter training kicking in, and yelled, “Call nine-one-one!”
I was shaking like a leaf. My keys clattered to the floor, and Ethan bent down to pick them up while Leo stepped under the streetlight and dialed.