Layla - Page 58
“I’m fine.”
“Darlin’, your lips might be saying that, but they also just added a ‘d’ to the word ‘fine’ that doesn’t exist in it.”
Fuck my life.
Pulling a chair over and leaving the one closest to me for Rockie to use, Jacinda sat down heavily. “Lord, I need this drink.”
Rockie leaned across the table. “Canon’s in a bad mood, so she’s hiding from him.”
Whatever the reason was, she never got to say it because a fight broke out near us, and the next twenty minutes were filled with my friends getting rid of their tension by placing bets on who was going to win. The reason it took twenty minutes for it to finish was that no matter how hard they tried, neither Roque nor Kapono could get through the crowd to get to the two women fighting.
And this wasn’t any cat fight. This was a nails, fists, feet, hair pulling, nose breaking, and tit punching war.
By the time it was finished, and they were passed over to the officers who’d attended, the girls and Rockie were doing shots. As they pushed mine across to me, I decided ‘fuck it’ and down it. Who knew that a cinnamon shot with gold in it called Goldschlager could cure a blocked nose and sore throat? It was genius.
So genius, I also decided to do a couple more to help my aching joints.
Cyn made a gagging noise and pushed her phone away with her nail. “My sister’s disgusting. She’s just sent me a text about how juicy her pineapple is.”
“Is that a euph- an epha- a…” Rockie looked like his brain was about to catch on fire he was thinking that hard. “Why can’t I say the word?” He growled and then slurred, “Is that you talking about something dirty?”
“No, she’s eating pineapple—the boring old fart with big tits and a hot hubby.”
I’d just been about to take a sip of my new drink when she said it, and I ended up getting the straw up my nose. Not that it mattered, given what’d just come out of her mouth.
“You say that about your sister?”
“Pfffbt, she knows I love her, but she used juicy.” Her phone beeped again, and this time, when she saw the screen, she snapped, “That’s it. No one says the words juicy or juices innocently. No one. It’s one of the grossest words in the world wide world.”
“I know one,” Rockie hiccuped. “Clam.”
Cyn motioned with her hand as she tapped on her screen. “Keep ‘em coming.”
“Creamy,” Sayla snickered.
Jacinda thought about hers. “Homonym.”
The one that popped into my head when they looked at me made me burst out laughing. “Homoerectus.”
“Fuck it, she wins,” Rockie snapped, throwing his arm out in my direction.
I glanced over at the bar and saw Mark watching me with a small smile on his face. He’d turned up during the fight and had immediately checked on me to make sure I was okay. He hadn’t tried to mother hen me to death like everyone else had, and I was beyond grateful for that.
“Ladies, your drinks,” the female bartender, whose name I’d forgotten, said as she took them off the tray and put them on the table. “They’re from that man over there.”
There were quite a few men in the direction she was pointing in, but when Mark winked, I figured it out without asking her for clarification.
“Your husband’s the bestest,” Cyn sighed. “Do you think he’d want a second wife?”
Why the hell not?
“Hang on, I’ll ask him.” Picking my phone up, I texted him the question and stared at my phone until I got a response from him. “Damn, he says he lucked out with the one he’s got already.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet,” Sayla cried, then stood up and pointed at him. “You, my friend, are the absolute shit, and I don’t mean the nasty brown stuff animals leave outside. You’re not poop, you’re shit.”
That was probably the sweetest thing I’d ever heard anyone say, but judging from the expressions on people’s faces in the bar, they didn’t quite agree. The insanity of the world we lived in.
Next to me, Rockie snorted loudly, one of those long, drawn out ones, and swayed in his chair. “She told him he was a shit.”
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