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Manson raised his hand, grinning. “No one got me.”
But I shook my head. I hated to admit defeat; I really did. But Jess had played fair and I hadn’t. “I only shot Jess after she shot me multiple times. She never got eliminated.”
“We’ll call it a tie, then,” Manson said, slinging the strap of his gun over his shoulder. “Are you all ready to head home? I’m starving.”
“Let’s pick up pizza on the way back,” Vincent said as the five of us left the classroom and made our way out of the school. “Oh, wait, no, hot wings…or maybe burgers…or all three?”
Jess laughed softly at his indecision. We were walking close, our arms bumping into each other. I slipped my arm around her side, encircling her waist and pulling her closer against me.
“I’ll admit it,” I said. “You’re a damn good shot.”
She smiled as she leaned into my side. The chaos in my brain had calmed, but instead of leaving me confused and irritable like it usually would, I felt okay. Content.
I felt happy.
47
Vincent
“Drinks are up, fuckers!”
I shoved open the backdoor with my foot, my arms full with cups as I emerged into the backyard. Sparks rose into the darkness as Lucas tossed more wood into the fire, the night air potent with the rich scent of smoke. We’d hauled ass to the nearest pizza place, returning to our house with three large pies and an order of hot wings. It felt nice and cool outside so we’d decided to get a fire going and eat in the yard, our folding chairs set up in a circle around the flames.
“For the lady,” I said, passing a drink to Jess as she sat with her feet up in her chair.
“Oh, I’m aladynow, am I?” she said.
Manson reached over from beside her and gave her face a squeeze. “You still hold the official fucktoy title. But I have to say, hearing you laugh like the Joker when Alex’s car got fucked was one of the sexiest things I’ve ever heard. You’ve earned the honor of beingLadyFucktoy.”
Jason snickered. “It’s a very elevated position.”
Jess shook her head, dramatically rolling her eyes. “God, you’re all terrible.”
“And you like it,” I said, raising my cup in a toast. “Gentlemen— and Lady Fucktoy — I propose a toast. To whatever poor bastards have to try to repair Alex’s Hellcat.”
They laughed as they drank. Jess took a long sip, her eyes widening before she swallowed.
“Damn, this is good,” she said. She looked over at me, nodding as if impressed. “So, you can do more than just tell terrible jokes.”
“My jokes are fantastic,” I said, taking my seat. “Not my fault you don’t understand the highest level of highbrow humor.”
“Truly thehighest,” Jason said, laughing when I reached over to smack his arm.
“I’m surrounded by brats,” I said. “Honestly, what have I done to deserve to be surrounded by brats?”
“Can’t do shit about it either,” Lucas said, shaking his head as if he was disgusted. But I could see the mischief in his gaze when he looked at Jess. “You can chase a brat down with a gun and they still won’t submit.”
Jess stuck out her tongue at him across the fire. We dug into the food, holding paper plates and napkins on our laps. Jojo came to beg, of course, resting her head on Manson’s lap with the biggest puppy-dog eyes she could muster.
“You’re a bartender, right?” Jess said, looking at me in between bites of pizza. She lifted her cup and took another sip. “You clearly know how to make a good cocktail.”
“Yep. At Tris,” I said. “It’s a club in Memphis. Can’t say I’m a fan of driving an hour to get there, but the tips are good.”
“What kind of club is it? I can’t really imagine you serving up drinks to honky-tonk.”
“I can get down with all kinds of music,” I said. “But it’s not a country club, no. They play a lot of electronic, and occasionally they’ll put on a metal show. Tris is a little unusual. It’s not exactly a BDSM club, but they do work with the local kink and LGBTQ communities. They’ll hold munches there sometimes,but mostly it’s just a fun place for music. And obviously, the drink selection is superior.”
Jess tipped her head curiously. “Munches? What is that?”
