“This is just … amazeballs!” Xander exclaims. “So how do you two know each other?”
“We went to kindergarten together,” I supply. “Jackson is one of my oldest friends.”
“I can’t believe we’ve finally lured you back home.” He punches me in the shoulder, then turns back to Kenna and Xander. “This guy is really okay. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
Jackson flags the bartender and orders a couple of pints. There are at least a dozen locally brewed choices on tap. “He’s here just in time to test my latest dating algorithm.”
“That is so not happening,” I say. “What’s Georgia drinking?” I ask Kenna.
“Pale ale,” says Kenna. Then she turns toward Jackson. “I volunteer as tribute if you need more test subjects.”
“Sweet!” Jackson nods. “We’re focusing more on male beta testers right now, but I’ll definitely be in touch.”
“You might want to focus more on the female user experience if you’re really serious.” Kenna rolls her eyes. “We’re not the ones sending the dick pics.”
She raises her eyebrows at me when I add a pale ale to my tab. “Oh, wow. I see you like to live dangerously.”
From the throwing lanes next door, a hearty thunk is followed by a victorious whoop. “Yessss! Take that, you lousy, Viking POS!”
“How many axes are in each bucket?” I ask.
“Five,” Xander answers.
“So, I guess I’ll wait till she’s thrown four more before offering her the drink?”
* * *
“No!” Georgia says when I approach her lane. “No fucking way. You are not allowed to be here right now.”
“It’s a free country,” I say, instantly regretting it. Is that really the best thing I could come up with?
Georgia is flushed from the activity. Her hair is still tousled. She’s wearing a pair of broken-in biker gloves, which suggests to me she must be a regular. Makes sense for a battle pixie.
“You come here often?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says. “Yes, I do, in fact.” Her eyes flash dangerously. I set the drink down and back away.
“Fine, fine.” I hold up my hands. “I just wanted to buy you a drink and apologize for yesterday. I was a little blindsided by your accusations. I do take them seriously though. And also, as psycho as you seem to be, I’m really glad you decked Bryce. I’m with my sister on that one.”
“You’re calling me a psycho?” Georgia says, retrieving an ax from the stump.
“Well, if the shoe fits …” I wave my hand in her direction. “I actually thought I was showing great restraint not calling you an ax-wielding psycho.”
“Hmph!” she says, dropping the ax back in the bucket and stomping back in my direction. But I can see she is trying not to smile at my joke.
“Look, Georgia. I can’t help but think we got off on the wrong foot,” I say. “I propose a truce … and maybe a wager?” I hold out the drink.
“You haven’t roofied that, have you?” she asks.
“No!” I roll my eyes.
“Prove it.”
I take a big swig and hand the drink back to her. She grabs it from me and takes a sip. The foam clings to her upper lip, and I’m dying to wipe it away with my thumb. Or my tongue.
Shit.
“I propose we throw a round, and if I win, you give me another chance. Come to my sister’s party,” I say. “Your brother’s already going, and I know Lilly would be thrilled if you came too. You really are one of her heroes.”
