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“That’s not a thing that happens.”

Conrad grins. “He’s right. I mean, there’s plenty of married people not having sex. And old people.” He scrunches up his nose in disgust. “Their dicks don’t just fall off.”

“They might.” Archer taps his beer neck against Conrad’s. “When was the last time you got laid?”

“None of your damn business, Arch.” Conrad shuts that shit right down. It’s another reason the two of us are buddies. “And leave Myles alone. He’ll get his dick wet again when he’s good and ready. I’m sure it gets hand action.”

I stare at the table, shaking my head. “This conversation is not happening,” I grumble. “Can you two stop acting like teenage boys?”

“Gosh, Myles, now you sound like our mom,” Archer laments and stands. “If you really want my seat…” He gestures wildly, like its royalty, and bows down to it, like I may now have his throne.

I don’t want it if he’s going to make a huge scene over it. “Just sit your ass back down,” I snarl at him. Is he trying to humiliate me in front of our teammates?

“As long as I’m up,” he shoots a warning glare at me, “I’m going to order us a refill. Unless you want to head over to the bar?”

“Fuck off.”

I’m grateful when Archer is at the bar, because it means he’s not giving me shit for five minutes.

After a beat, Conrad nods toward the empty seat. “Take it. You might as well.”

I lament, and while it is what I wanted, after Archer’s little display of the chair like a throne, I don’t want it anymore. “It’s fine. I can sit here.” I bite down on my tongue, the pain a welcome dose of pleasure.

My skin itches with annoyance as I watch Juniper and her friend.

Archer is right beside her, and I can’t tell if he’s just ordering or talking to her. Oh shit, he’s definitely talking to her, because she glances back at me and gives a wave. He says something into her ear, leaning closer, but like a stalled car on train tracks, I can’t move or look away.

She glances from me back up to him, and they exchange a few words. She pulls out her phone, and my stomach flops.

Are they exchanging phone numbers?

What the hell, Archer?

I’m seeing red.

Not because she’s mine.

She isn’t.

Not because I like her.

I don’t anymore.

No, it’s the fact that my brother is blatantly hitting on the one girl in the bar who turned my ass down in such a tasteless way that it still stings. As does the argument the two of us had half an hour ago, or so.

And that’s when I pray my eyes are deceiving me, because he leans down and his mouth is on hers.

I can’t watch.

Though my body doesn’t move, my jaw drops and Conrad clears his throat. “Shit. Isn’t that the same girl from earlier? The one you were flirting with?”

My teeth grind together hard enough to chip a tooth. “We were arguing,” I correct him.

“Looked like flirting to me, but what do I know?” Conrad sips his beer. “I must be wrong since she’s making out with your brother.”

I can’t even look at the two of them, nor would I want to.

“Get a room!” I shout, and to my dismay, the music between songs lulls, and I’m pretty sure my voice is heard across the bar, because they slowly break apart from the kiss.