Page 17
“Why are you guys here anyway?” Carver asked.
“Hot tub. Also, free alcohol.”
“You don’t need to be drinking,” Carver grumbled.
“Okay, Dad,” Aviela said with an eye roll.
“If they’re gonna drink, I’d rather they drink here,” I said.
“Christ,” Spike grumbled, wincing at me.
“That sounds even more like something a dad would say,” Aviela said with another of those big smiles of hers.
“I got a feeling you in a bar or club would be a nightmare. So enjoy the hot tub. And remember that you get drunker in that than you would outside of it. I’d rather not be peeling you guys off the ground when you get out and the booze hits you.”
“And if we wouldn’t mind being peeled off the ground by you?”
“Save the cute for someone your own age, Aviela.”
“Oh, you mean someone my own age that everyone associated with this club would intimidate and threaten until he lost interest in me?”
There was just a dash of bitter under her words, making me think that there’d been a lot of threats and intimidation in her dating life.
“I don’t care who you date, kid. That’s not my business. Keeping you out of bad situations and keeping my hands to myself are the only things I need to do.”
“Well, I care,” Carver insisted.
“And yet,” Aviela said, patting his shoulder, “that won’t stop me.”
With that, she twirled out of the room. I saw her walk past the doorway again a moment later, stripped down to her black underwear and bra and carrying two full bottles of premixed margaritas outside.
Carver sighed and poured himself more coffee.
“They’re not going to get into any trouble here,” I reminded him.
“You’re naive if you think they’re going to want to stay here all day.”
“He’s not wrong,” Spike said when Carver walked out, I imagine, to loom over his cousins to make sure they didn’t do anything he didn’t approve of. He wasn’t going to have a lot of luck with that.
“I’ve heard horror stories about the other guys following the last girls’ club crew to bars or clubs.”
“I don’t know how I feel about being seen as a responsible adult,” Spike said, wincing. “I blame all the other guys for getting shacked up so quickly. This is supposed to be their job.”
“Well, you can easily solve that,” I said, grabbing the floor razor again.
“How’s that?”
“Get shacked up yourself.”
The horrified look on his face made a chuckle escape me.
“Then you gotta suck it up and be a girls’ club tamer. I think Malc, Dezi, and Sully were the ones to handle the last set. You can ask them for advice on how to do it without being the annoying older brother type.”
If my memory served me, Malc was always their driver when they went out to get wild. Not typically joining in, just being there, just keeping an eye. On the other hand, Dezi and Sully were always in the thick of it: singing karaoke, going to drag shows, dancing at the club.
I was more of a Malcolm.
Spike could pick up where the other two left off.
