The competition for phone numbers stopped for both of them then. Luc because he was gone for Gena, and Tag because there was no game if he was playing alone. Tag settled for the more sophisticated, but no less rewarding, picking up a girl for dinner and sex—one or both. Usually both.
“Been a while.” Lucas tugged his earbuds from his ears and looped them around his neck. He was rarely without them. As a music producer, he was often listening to either his musicians’ latest albums or potential new clients.
“Since I took your money?” Tag asked, shoving the twenty into the pocket of his shorts.
“Since I saw you. Is it because of work, or because you can’t be around my smoking hot wife without dying of envy?” Lucas grinned, an idiot in love. His dark hair was short and spiky, but he used to wear it longer and shaggier. The tattoo of a dragon on his leg hadn’t gone anywhere since college. He may be a husband and dad, but Luc was also a badass. It was admirable.
“The last one.” Tag stood, his arms feeling like limp noodles, and did a few windmills. While he was teasing his buddy, it hadn’t been a line. A part of him was envious of Luc, who’d managed to have a beautiful family and thriving career and keep his fun-guy personality. “Well, that and I’m tired of turning down Gena’s advances. She loves me.”
Lucas chuckled, taking the ribbing good-naturedly. They both knew Gena too well to believe that lie for a second. She was one of Tag’s favorite people, but probably because she gave him more shit than Lucas, and that was saying something.
“Beer?” Luc asked.
“You don’t have to be home for bedtime tonight?”
Luc loved to read to his kids. His family was his lifeline. What a great dad he’d turned out to be. Tag thought of his own father and how dedicated he’d been. Even after his mother died in the car wreck, his dad had been there for his boys. Some of the shine had gone, though. The life that only Lunette Crane seemed to bring to his father’s eyes. That must be the trick to landing a good woman—getting her to stay—and if she didn’t, not losing that light.
“No curfew for me.” Luc slapped Tag hard on the shoulder and headed for the showers. “Tonight is boys’ night.”
“You pick the place,” Tag said, following. “But if you score a phone number, I’m ratting.”
A little later, Tag was clad in jeans and a sweater and brushing the snow out of his slightly damp hair. “The Andromeda Club,” he read off the sign. “Sounds like an old folks’ home.”
Lucas popped open the door. “It’s a cool place. Great food.”
Inside, Tag looked around. C-shaped booths in the corners, exposed brick walls, and rich, warm woods throughout. There was an adjoining room with a pool table, and the bar was at the back of the room, a pretty brunette at the helm. A few servers milled around, but the place wasn’t formal, as hinted by the “seat yourself” sign.
They headed for the bar and bellied up.
“What can I get you?” The brunette bartender tossed a few coasters in front of them.
“I’m Lucas.”
Oh, shit.
“This is my friend, Tag.”
“Luc, shut up.” This was an old wingman bit, and not one Tag was looking forward to resurrecting. He hadn’t needed help picking up women for a long time.
Lucas gripped Tag’s shoulder and squeezed, giving him a good shake. “Tag here is in the hotel business. He runs Guest and Restaurant Services.”
“Oh really? Sounds exciting.” The brunette was smiling and friendly, and then she started playing with the stack of coasters in a really obvious way. Tag noticed the engagement ring. So did Lucas.
“I’m married, father of two. Have you been married long…” He drew out the pause to get her name.
“Breanna, and no. I’m engaged, not married.”
“Do it if he’s not a prick,” Lucas said smoothly.
“He’ll be in here later, and he’s definitely not a prick.” She was still smiling, but not flirting, which Tag respected.
Lucas ordered beers for both of them, sending Tag a shoulder shrug that said, Welp, I tried.
“You are rusty on the wingman game,” Tag said after Breanna had delivered both beers and went to help another customer. He took a drink from the tall mug. “You, the married guy, should know to check the left hand first.”
“I admit, that was a rookie move,” Lucas said. “But we’d better get to it since you’re probably behind.”
Tag swallowed another mouthful of beer. “Behind on what?”
“I figured you and Reese split Chicago singles right down the middle, but with him engaged”—Luc dipped his voice to add the word again—“that puts you in charge of sexually pleasing the remainder of Chicago’s females.”
Tag couldn’t help laughing. “You’re an ass.”
“With great power comes great responsibility, my friend.”
Again, the oddest twinge of envy pricked him. He’d never marinated long on settling down, never pictured himself married with kids and the whole picket fence thing. Especially in the midst of boys’ night over beers. Tag’s sights should be set on the single women in the room. That thought brought forth the vision of one woman, and one woman only.
Guess who that was?
“Menus, guys,” Breanna said. “Are you eating?”
“Always. Look at these guns. We need protein,” Lucas said. “Breanna, tell me something.”
She leaned an elbow on the bar to listen. As was always the way chicks behaved around Lucas. He drew them in with his charm. If Tag didn’t like Gena so damn much, he may have had a moment of mourning for Lucas’s dormant pickup skills. It was hard to watch one of the greats hang up his gloves.
“Do you think my game is rusty or out of fashion?” Luc asked. “I admit, I’m deliriously happy with my wife and have no desire to return to the singles scene, but it’d be nice to know if I still had it.”
“Hmm.” Breanna pretended to size him up, which was perfect. Tag would have to tip her extra for egging on his friend, who needed to be checked for his sheer cockiness. “Your approach would work on me if I were single, but I’m not sure you’re everyone’s cup of tea.”
“I will take that as a win.” Lucas lifted his beer.
“What about you?” Breanna tipped her chin at Tag. “Do you think your friend still has it?”
“Well, I’d take him home,” Tag said with a smile, and Breanna held his eyes a little longer than she’d held Lucas’s. Engaged or not, he noted a passing appreciation. Luc picked up on it, too.
“Fuck,” he muttered when she walked away. “What is it? The long hair?”
“Chicks dig the hair.” Tag shrugged one shoulder.
“Better watch it because her fiancé will be in here later. He might kick your ass.”
“I’m not getting into a fight over a taken woman. There are plenty of available ones around.” Like his neighbor. Rachel Foster with her blond curls and tight dress, or her tangly locks and polar-bear pajamas. He hadn’t figured her out yet. He liked how she was a mystery.
“I haven’t told you about my hot new neighbor,” Tag started.