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"I'm still recovering from that one at Chaz's... six years ago," he declared, looking pained at the idea. And, to her credit, she did hold her liquor well. I bet she could drink some of us under the table. "You and me, we got to talk later," he said, shaking his head. And as he walked away, I could swear I heard him mumbling something about Cy.
"They're leaving without us," Peyton said, tone a bit pointed as she started moving forward toward the bikes parked in the yard. "Don't want to miss any of the fun," she added.
And, well, I could worry about Cash later.
So, with that, she hiked up her skirt because she said it proved too tight to try to straddle me in, and we got on my bike.
And as she slid into me, I couldn't help but wonder what panties were pressing into my back as I turned the bike over and peeled out.
The ride to the shitty side of town was short, and the guys were waiting for us right outside.
"I've only ever been in here once," Peyton admitted as my arm dropped down on her shoulders again, not sure why I felt compelled to keep doing so. "I had just moved to town and didn't know better. My ass was pinched within thirty seconds of entering."
"This ass is mine," I told her, sliding my hand down for a second to grab it before settling on her shoulders again. "No one is touching it tonight."
"Except you," she said, giving me a sultry look.
"Except me," I agreed as we moved inside.
"Adler!" the owner, Lenny's boss, Meryl, greeted my brother like some long lost son, beaming at him, clamping a hand on his back. "And you brought friends!"
It was no secret that this bar, well, was a shithole. Granted, the bartenders kept the bar clean enough that it wasn't skeezy, but the clientele sucked, and the whole place needed an update... fifteen years ago. So getting Adler and, by extension, us, on occasion, was a big deal for this guy.
Edison had been leaning up against the cigar counter that Lenny was standing behind. When his gaze went to me, then Peyton, he pushed off, moving closer. His gaze was pointed as he moved in beside us.
"Peyton, this is Edison. Edison, Peyton."
"Yours?" he asked in that rumbling, growling voice of his.
"Holy crap," Peyton said, big-eyeing him. "Real people actually have voices like that?" she asked, shaking her head. "I thought only like Vin Diesel and Ja Rule had that sound."
"You forgot Till Lindemann," I told her.
"What? No, I did not. I would never forget him. He makes demanding your 'fruit' sexy somehow. I mean the 'I love you, whore' part goes without saying on the sexy-scale. Te quiero, puta..." she said in a sing-song voice, making Roderick's head shoot over, brows low. "Yes, I know what I just said," she told him with a saucy smile. "I can call you a whore in three languages," she added, sounding proud of that fact.
And, luckily, the distraction was enough to make it impossible for me to answer Edison's question.
Because, well, I didn't even know how to answer it.
"Oh, look, another girl," she declared suddenly, sliding out from under my arm, and moving over toward the counter. "So, if I get tequila-drunk and end up dancing on the bar, I can count on you to spot me, right?" she asked, hopping up on the glass without a concern about it holding her. "Or would you be up there with me?"
"Depends," Lenny said, head ducked to the side as she looked at Peyton.
Lenny, for all intents and purposes, was not a people-person. She barely got on with us. In fact, aside from Edison, the only one she seemed to bond with was Adler.
As for the girls club, well, she was an outsider.
"On?"
"What song is playing. If it's a certain R&B number from the late 90s, I would likely be up there with you. Shirtless," she added with a dry laugh.
"It's 'No Diggity' isn't it?" Peyton asked, nodding like she already knew the answer.
Lenny nodded, smiling a bit. And since she wasn't one known for smiling, that was a feat. "You just cost me a hundred bucks, by the way."
Peyton's brows knitted. "How so?"
"I had my money on Adler being the next one to lock a girl down."
If it was possible for a woman like her to do so, Peyton totally sputtered.
"You're still in the running," she told her, tone light, but there was a tension around her eyes that didn't seem to fit there. "No one is locking me down." She leaned closer to Lenny who actually moved in too, this woman who was a pretty big fan of 'personal space' moved closer to this practical stranger. Her voice was low, but for some reason, it carried to me. "We just like to get sticky-icky and ooey-gooey," she declared ridiculously.
