“We met in college,” she reminds him.
“That must be why you’re so familiar.” He nods to himself as though he’s on top of the situation. He isn’t.
“I should be.” She gives an amused huff. “We hung out all the time.”
“She’s my best friend,” I remind him.
“Ouch.” He clasps his heart, his gaze sparkling. “That hurts.”
“Can you blame me?” I let my gaze sweep as much of Jane as I can see with the bar between us.
“Oh right.” The light bulb turns on in Vale’s head, lighting up his whole face as he snaps his fingers. “I remember how you spent all your time pining over pussy you were never going to get.”
Jane laugh snorts and then starts to cough. “Did you really? Because I recall that do not disturb sock on your door more often than not.”
“Vale,” I warn him.
“I’m sure you’re that girl,” he says, leaning closer. “He made this whole song and dance about us guys keeping our hands to ourselves.”
“Because she’s my best friend,” I argue. “And you guys were giant ballbags of testosterone. It’s the same reason I wouldn’t let you near my sister either, once she turned eighteen.”
“We weren’t that bad,” Vale says.
I cross my arms over my chest. My voice drips with disbelief as I say, “Uh-huh.”
“Jane,” she says, offering him her hand now as she tilts her head and questions me with those lines that grace her forehead.
“Oh shit. You are too.” He nods as he finally puts her face and name together in his head.
“Oh look.” I point at the other end of the bar. “There’s a redhead over there. Go. Serve her.”
“Actually, I think Jane and I should catch up.”
“You and Jane.” I choke on that sentence. The pronouns should be me and Jane. Jane and I. Not my best friend and my other best friend. Not the girl that I still wish were mine and that giant walking, talking pretty boy dick.
“We have lots to talk about. Don’t we?” he flirts with her. “Like how our good friend Hudson doesn’t have any balls.”
“Is that so?” She stares at me curiously and chuckles.
“That redhead is really into you. She keeps signalling me to send you over,” I say. “And she’s got a banging body.”
“I think I’m done with redheads,” Vale says. “There’s something far prettier right in front of me.”
“I will kill you,” I tell him. The toothy grin on my face says we’re all mucking around. My words are playful, but if he knows what’s good for him the motherducker will read between the lines. “If you don’t back off I will strangle you with the cord to your Xbox.”
“Okay. Jeez.” He puts his palms up in surrender as he backs off. Glancing over his shoulder, he checks out the redhead and lets out a low whistle. “Sorry, Jane. It was fun while it lasted.”
“Bye, Vale. It was nice to see you again,” she calls out as he walks away.
Elbows on the counter, I lunge into a lean that brings our gazes level. “Vale was fooling around, in case you were wondering.”
“Sorry?” Her beautiful gray orbs settle on me and she plays with her hair.
I reach across the wooden divider and rub the end of that same silken tress between my fingers. “Vale is still a giant flirt.”
“Oh.” She presses her pink glossed lips together. “That was pretty obvious.”
“Okay. Good.” Because I don’t know how I’d cope with her developing a crush on my best bro. But from the clenched fist holding tight to my intestines the answer is not fucking well. “So are you still a lightweight?”
“If I say yes...” she lifts one side of her mouth and drops the opposite shoulder.
“Let me make you something?”
She pulls the face of someone who has imbibed too much alcohol at one time and will never forget it. “Maybe I should have a white wine.”
I straighten up. “I bet I can come up with something you’ll like better.”
“What are you thinking?” she asks.
“Do you trust me?” I give her a sly smile.
“Oh-kay,” there is nothing about the way she says it that implies trust. More a sense of foreboding, but she’ll go along with it for my sake. I grab a shaker and start adding ingredients. Vodka. Blackcurrant liquor.
“I like the bar,” she says. “Is it always this busy?”
“Always.”
She turns to look out at the crowd, spotting a gaggle of women who regularly turn up on Friday nights to catch our performance. “And is that your fan club?”
“They’re regulars,” I admit.
“I bet they love you.”
“Who doesn’t?” I raise and drop my shoulders as I put the lid on the shaker. There’s a tone to her voice tonight. It’s edgy and syrupy sweet like there’s something on her mind that she wants to avoid admitting at all costs.
“Which one are you taking home tonight?”
“I’m not.”
She turns to face me and the ridges in her forehead deepen. “Why not?”
I settle a black napkin in front of her with a flourish and place the cocktail glass on top of it. “When the girl you’ve always wanted is right in front of you, it’s pretty hard to fuck other women.”
Yes, the moment I saw her again I knew I was as fucked as a motherducker can be. All those feelings I thought I’d gotten over were apparently squashed down deep inside, waiting for her to show up and bring them all bubbling to the surface again.
“Is it, though?” She wrinkles her nose as she studies the drink I fondly titled The Girl Next Door’s Ruby Panties.
She probably suspects one whiff will burn off her eyebrows, but I’ve finessed my skills since the last time we drank together. Also I halved the shots because she hasn’t handled her liquor well from her first sip at a high school party. I had to pull her out of the pool that night and drive her home sopping wet from a gathering she wasn’t allowed to attend in the first place then hold her hair back while she puked in Lolly’s rose bushes that lined the short fence between our houses.
“Oliver didn’t have a problem with it.” A shadow passes over her face that makes my teeth clench.
“For one, that guy is a mega dick,” I boom. My hands itch to form fists so I busy them with wiping down the work surface behind the bar.
“Huge.” She raises her untouched drink to toast the fact before taking a sip. It’s a surprisingly sweet, slightly tart fusion with Bacardi and vodka undertones. “This is nice. What do you call it?”
“You don’t want to know.” I bite my lip. I wonder if she ever got an inkling of how dirty my thoughts about her were. And how much dirtier they are now.
“Tell me.” She grabs my arm and tries to shake me. It doesn’t work for her, but her touch is worth it.
A weight lifts off my shoulders. It’s good to have her back. “The Girl Next Door’s Ruby Panties.”
“Oh jeez.” She makes a face before taking another mouthful. “There’s a story behind that, I’m sure.”