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“You’re not gonna win shit if you spend your time at the Texas Hold’em tables,” Ty chimed in on a chuckle, all too happy to be on the other end of the teasing now. “Because you’re fucking terrible at poker.”
“What the fuck ever, bro. You and I both know I’m aces at poker,” Jude boasted through an amused smirk. “I was just going easy on you this morning to keep from crippling your fragile little ego.”
Ty flipped him the bird.
“Why don’t you fly that finger to the bank, dude? I’d like the two hundo you owe me in all twenties. Thank you in advance.”
“You can fuck right off.” Ty teasingly shoved Jude in the chest and headed toward the entrance doors of the New Continental Hotel.
Thatch, Jude, and I followed his lead, and not too far behind, Remy and Flynn were getting out of Kline’s SUV and walking in our direction.
After watching the fight at a local pub called the Watering Hole, I’d thought we’d head home to the women to drown ourselves in a couple of drinks and then retreat to our bedrooms to spend time drowning our dicks in something else. But I hadn’t driven myself, and now we were at a random fucking hotel because Thatch insisted it was the place to be tonight.
If you asked me, it sounded like a recipe for disaster.
“What are we even doing here?” I asked as Thatch stepped forward to open the door.
“Enjoying a guys’ night at the most happening place in Greenwood.”
“And how do you know this exactly?” Kline asked rationally. “You’re not from Greenwood. You’ve never been to Greenwood. You don’t knowfuck allabout Greenwood.”
“Relax, Klinehole, my wife has her finger on the pulse.”
“Wait…” I stopped dead in my tracks, causing a pileup of men behind me. But this was even worse than I suspected. “Cassie is the one who told you about this?”
“Yep.”
I narrowed my eyes. “And when exactly did she tell you this?”
“What’s with the twenty fluffing questions?” he retorted. “My wife gave me the 4-1-1 on a hot spot with free drinks and live music. What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is that you and Cassie are one damn running joke after another,” Kline offered, already knowing where my head was at with this. “You prank as easily as you breathe, and I’m still getting fucking subscription texts from the Dick-pullers of America Association.”
“Dick-pullers of America?” Jude asked excitedly. “Is that a real thing?”
“Stop being so paranoid,” Thatch chastised, ignoring Jude along with the rest of us. “My wife isn’t pranking us.”
“Maybe I’m a little slow on the uptake, but why should we be concerned about being pranked?” Flynn asked with a tilt of his head. “By Thatch’s wife, of all people?”
“Because that’s all Thatch and Cass do.” I sighed. “Prank other people. Prank each other. Basically, they’re just one big shitshow after another.”
“C’mon, Wesley.” Thatch gestured for me to walk inside. “There’s no need to be scared.”
I rolled my eyes and stepped through the doors and into the lobby of the hotel.
But the instant I spotted a table with a crowd of people in front of it and moved my eyes up to the giant banner hanging proudly on display, I shook my head on an exasperated sigh.
“Am I seeing shit, or does that sign say something about a high school reunion?” Kline asked when he came to stand beside me.
“Your eyesight is good, my man. That’s exactly what it says,” I said and took another look at the banner.
Welcome to Greenwood High’s Twenty-Year High School Reunion!
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
“What the hell is this?” Ty questioned, putting both hands on his hips and looking up at the banner.
“This is what it’s like to be friends with Thatch,” Kline muttered with exasperation.
