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“Shit, it’s gonna be good.” Dean’s voice gets bouncy. “You want to bet on yourself? I’m giving five to one odds on you not causing a scene.”
“Don’t be an asshole,” Leighton says.
“He can’t help himself.” I pull my wallet from my back pocket, grab two twenties, hand them to Dean. “You’re on.”
He chuckles as he slides the money into the pocket of his slacks—he’s wearing a suit. Navy. Like the one Leighton was pushing. “What do you say, Leigh—”
“Don’t call me that.” She slides her arm around my waist. “Wasn’t it bad enough betting on Kaylee’s virginity?”
“That was nothing compared to some of his shit,” I say.
Her fingers dig into my sides, pressing the fabric of my shirt into my skin. “You jealous she’s having better sex than you?”
“Those are fighting words, babe.” He tugs at his belt. “Don’t make me prove how good—”
“How would that prove you enjoy it?” She rolls her eyes.
“You’ll know by the way I groan.” He winks.
I’m not sure if I want to laugh or deck him. “He is loud.”
She scrunches her nose in disgust. “Too vivid of a mental picture.”
“That’s sound,” he says. “Not image.”
“It’s an expression.” Leighton shakes her head. “I’m gonna take that whole thing as a yes.”
He shrugs. “Nobody’s having better sex than Kay.”
“What about Iris?” she asks.
He laughs. “Yeah. She was really fucking loud at Walker’s birthday.” He turns to me. “Who’s your money on?”
“You,” I say.
“Me?” He raises a brow. “Shit. Blood is thicker than water—”
“You’re that in love with fucking yourself,” I say.
Leighton pulls her arm over her stomach, doubles over with laughter. Vodka sloshes over the sides of her glass. Lands on the carpet.
Dean chuckles. “That was good.” He raises his drink to toast “Didn’t think you had it in you.”
He leaves with a smug grin. But it’s his usual smug grin. It’s his default expression.
Slowly, she straightens herself. “Oh my God.” She licks her glass clean. “That was so good.”
“Thanks.” I unpeel her fingers from her glass. Take a long sip.
“You hate vodka.”
“Yeah, but I’m not gonna hold your hair back while you unload a bottle of Belvedere.”
“My hair is too short to get in the toilet.” She laughs. “But point taken.”
I take another sip. I don’t know the subtlety of vodka the way she does, but I can tell this is good shit.
