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“You are correct, fine sir,” Link replies.
Simon glares at Matt. “And I believe we’ve all followed the rules, until now.”
Matt lifts his hands in surrender. “Chill out. It’s just Bern. I decided that since she and I are the only ones not attached, we could check in on behalf of the groups.”
“Uh, I’m single,” I mutter. Only Ben seems to hear me and he snorts.
“Sorry, man,” he replies. I shrug my shoulders. Ben left the team a few months back to move to Cali for a new chapter in his career. Plus, he’s got himself one of those surfer girls, so I don’t blame the guy for moving to where she is.
“I guess that makes sense,” Dex replies to Matt, but he’s clearly annoyed. I love Morgan, and I love that he’s found the woman of his dreams, but she’s got him so wrapped around her finger that I’m surprised he hasn’t snuck off to text her yet tonight.
“Stop being grumpy, Dexter. You could have texted Morgan at any time. We didn’t think you’d actually follow the rule.” Simon chuckles as he walks around the table lining up his next shot.
“Link took my phone.” Dex’s hands fists at his side.
Snorting, I shake my head. Link is such a jackass.
Link just shrugs but doesn’t offer Dex his phone back.
Simon pats Dex on the back. “So what are the girls up to? They’re staying in, yeah?”
“Holed up in Bernie’s apartment. She says she’s still expecting a stripper to show up. She’s not convinced that Ruby is really on her best behavior.”
While Matt reads the text, I have the urge to look at my own phone. I know there won’t be a text from her, because we only text on occasion.
Dex straightens at the idea of a stripper. He turns toward Link. “Please tell me she didn’t hire a stripper, man.”
I can read Dex’s unease in the way he’s frowning and clutching the pool stick. Link is a jokester ninety-eight percent of the time, but he knows when to be serious. If anyone can read the Link bullshit meter better than me, it’s Dex.
Dex’s frown morphs into an easy grin quickly enough. “Nah, man. She knows Morgan would freak.”
But you know who doesn’t know how to read the bull shit meter?? Matt, the dumbass.
“I’m down for strippers.” He elbows Ben, who’s standing next to him.
“Meh, not my thing. Been there, done that,” Ben grumbles before taking a swig of his beer.
“Come on, you’re all old men. Let a youngin’ like me live a little.” He laughs. The rest of the guys humor him and laugh as well, but maybe I’m a grandpa in his eyes. At my age, I’m over the idea of spending time with anyone other than a girlfriend. If I had time for one.
“Speaking of hotties, can I just state for the record how fine Bernie is?” Matt pockets his phone and snags the stick from Dex. “She’s a fucking snack.” He shoots the cue ball and misses all the balls left on the table.
“Watch it, man.” This comes from Ben.
My eyes narrow as I glance around the space. Why are none of these assholes jumping down his throat right now?
“Matt, take it down a notch,” Dex tells him.
“What? I’m being serious. She’s fucking hot. She’s got everything guys like us want in a girl. The body, the face, the hobbies. She lives and breathes video games,” Matt gushes. Shit, this kid has it bad.
“Isn’t she a little old for you?” I ask him, leaning back on my stool and getting more and more pissed that these tools aren’t telling him that Bernadette isn’t an option.
“I like older women.” He puff his chest out. Again, the peanut gallery is silent.
I nearly growl. “I’m sorry, but isn’t there a rule that Bernadette is off limits?”
Link shoots Simon a look I can’t read since the lighting sucks in here. The small green shaded light that hangs over the table doesn’t allow for meaningful discussions.
“What the heck? What do you mean she’s off limits?” Matt crosses his arms over his chest.
