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“I doubt we can get away with a drama-free night,” Boomer mutters as he looks over my shoulder with a scowl.
I turn to look because it’s only instinct to want to see what others are talking about, to find Harley with his eyes locked on the two of us.
“He thinks we’re messing around,” Boomer offers.
“I would never sleep with two men at the same time,” I mutter, turning back in his direction because the heated scowl on Harley’s face makes me feel like he could actually be jealous, and that can’t be possible. He may want to sleep with me again, but that shouldn’t bring on any sense of propriety on his part.
“Hey there.”
Boomer frowns again, but I spin on my seat to face the man who just spoke, only to find two guys standing there.
“I’m Rick and this is Landon,” the smaller of the two say.
Rick is grinning and Landon has a scowl on his face.
“If this is some sort of competition,” I begin. “I can say you’re wasting your time, and you’ll both lose.”
“So you two are together?” Landon asks, a victorious look in his eyes.
“We aren’t,” I tell them. “But that doesn’t—”
“I’m not after you, honey,” Rick says, a boyishly devious look when his eyes skate over to Boomer.
“For fuck’s sake,” Boomer mutters under his breath.
There’s a palpable level of tension between the two boys, despite them approaching together.
“We go to college in Texas,” Landon says as if trying to distract his friend from drooling over Boomer. “Where do you go to school?”
I knew the guys looked closer to my age than anyone else I’ve noticed in the bar.
“I don’t,” I tell them. It’s a simple answer to a complicated question.
“Boys,” Drake growls from behind us. “You aren’t supposed to be in here. Twenty-one and up, remember?”
“We’re just talking to our friends,” Rick says.
Landon swats him on the chest. “Maybe we should go.”
“Are either of your dads here?” Drake asks. “You can stay if they are, but you’ll need to be sitting in the far corner with them.”
Both Landon and Rick look over their shoulders as if they didn’t even consider that their dads may be here. I follow their line of sight, only for it to land on the group of Cerberus men.
“You’re from Texas?” I ask.
“We’re both from here, actually,” Rick answers.
“Let’s go, man. I don’t want my dad on my ass,” Landon says, urging his friend once again.
“You actually may know his dad,” Rick says, pulling a growl from Landon. “Dustin Andrews?”
“Kid?” Boomer snaps. “You’re Kid’s son?”
“You dick,” Landon mutters to Rick before looking at my friend. “Yeah, that’s my dad.”
“I haven’t seen you around the clubhouse,” I tell them with narrowed eyes, thinking they’re lying.
“You go there a lot?” Rick asks.
“I live there currently,” I tell both of them with pride.
“We just got in tonight and stopped here first,” Landon explains. “Rick doesn’t live at the clubhouse, and I guess technically, I don’t either since my parents’ house is out back.”
“Aren’t you boys a little young to be in here?”
Both of the guys in question spin around to see Harley standing behind them.
“Hey,” Rick says with a smile, holding his hand out to Harley who just looks down at it with a frown. “Rick Matthews.”
“His friend is Kid’s son Landon,” Boomer explains, and it sounds like a warning on how Harley should behave around the two of them.
“Landon Andrews,” the guy says, offering his own hand.
Begrudgingly, Harley shakes Rick’s hand first before shaking Landon’s.
“Harley Cobreski,” the man returns.
Both Rick and Landon stiffen, and Harley doesn’t miss their reaction. I can imagine him thinking that he’ll always be the man people want to avoid because they don’t know how to act around a man who’s lost his wife.
“Sorry for your loss, man,” Rick offers.
“Thank you,” he says, but his eyes are locked on mine.
I turn to Boomer. “I need to use the restroom. If you fellas will excuse me?”
Rick and Landon back up as I hop off the stool, but Harley doesn’t budge, forcing me to brush my chest against him to get away from the bar.
Boomer stands, following me to the back hallway, but after I do my business and splash some much needed water on my face, it’s Harley left standing in the hallway instead of my friend. I feel betrayed as I stop in my tracks a few feet from him.
He doesn’t say a word when my feet start to move closer, and I don’t bother opening my mouth either. I think we’ve said all that needs to be said, honestly.
He steps into my path before I can get past him, and it seems so familiar to what happened this morning that it makes tears well up in my eyes.
Refusing to cower away this time, I lift my eyes to his, but he remains silent. It’s as if he can’t explain what he’s feeling or he’s so afraid of it that he can’t admit it out loud. More than likely, he isn’t feeling anything. But if that’s the case, then why does he approach me when I’m talking to two other guys? It make no sense.
