I nod then, convincing myself to drop it. “Yeah. You’re right.”
“Dom—”
“Hey!” James shouts, shoving through a crowd of college kids to get to me and Shane, effectively cutting off Shane’s last thought. “You wouldn’t believe the foot traffic out there. And then I was almost here, and a freaking chair came flying off the roof of one of the bars.”
“The fuck?” Shane blurts out. “Was anyone hurt?”
James shakes his head. “Not that I could tell. There were some uniforms right there, though, so they went running in to check it out.”
“Nashville, man. Always keeping it interesting,” Shane says.
“I’m gonna grab a beer,” James announces, shoving through the two of us to get to the bar and then squeezing us back together dramatically. I shake my head but otherwise leave it alone. Then I steal one of the nearest stools from another table when a woman with a white veil vacates it to run to the dance floor, where Wilkins has now joined Kutch in the line dancing fun.
“What’s up? Why isn’t your ass already commandeering the stage?” Shane asks, his eyebrows drawn together and his nose wrinkled.
“Just not really feeling it yet. Why? You missing the Karaoke Cowboy that much?” I flash him a little grin. “You hoping I’ll dedicate a song to you, sweetheart?”
“Only if it’s ‘Hopelessly Devoted to You’ by Olivia Newton-John.” He winks and I waggle my brows at him.
“Don’t even tempt me.”
Before Shane can open his mouth with another taunt, James steps up and wraps an arm around his shoulders. “All right, I’m good now,” he says and lifts his fresh beer in the air. “What’d I miss?”
“Just Dom being a wet fucking blanket,” Shane comments. “I think the Karaoke Cowboy is feeling insecure or some shit tonight.”
James quirks a brow at me.
“Don’t mind him, James. Shane’s a little mad at me,” I retort. “He wants me to sing some Olivia Newton-John for him, but I’m more of a Carrie Underwood kind of gal.”
“It should be noted that Dom here has yet to step on that stage and we’ve been here for ...” Shane pauses to check the time on his phone. “Ninety minutes.”
“Hold up ... you mean to tell me I came all the way down to this busy-ass bar in the middle of Broadway, where there isn’t any fucking parking to be found, almost got killed by a chair on my way in, and the Karaoke Cowboy isn’t going to get onstage?” James questions, and I just shrug.
“Listen, I know I’ve spoiled you assholes by being your main source of entertainment, fun, and charm, but I can’t always carry the team, you know? Sometimes, you guys are going to have to step up.”
“All right,” James says then, officially taking the bait. “On that note,I’mgoing to go do some karaoke then.”
“Attaboy!” Shane cheers. “Show us what you got, Jamie!”
He salutes us with his beer and heads for the stage, and I’m 100 percent invested in what’s about to go down until my phone vibrates in my pocket and I pull it out to find a text from my sister.
Dakota:What’s the best detergent for getting blood out of clothes?
I snort. Dakota, my only sibling, is five years younger than me, and shelovesto say off-color shit to try to surprise me.
Me:Old blood or new blood?
But I don’t get surprised. I just get amused. My baby sister is a good girl with a good head on her shoulders. Not to mention, she’s the directorof marketing at Dunn Coffee. Which means our father and grandpa Louie and uncle Patrick keep her too damn busy to fit crime into her schedule.
Dakota:New blood.
Me:Probably Gain, but what you really need is bleach.
Dakota:Does blood soak into drywall?
Me:Depends on how much blood you’re dealing with.
Dakota:A lot.
