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“O’Malley’s.”
Drinking it was.
Our knuckles met in between us for a bump. We shared a love for hops, and thank fuck for fast metabolisms and extra hours available for the gym, or we’d both have beer guts.
The gym.
I didn’t really have much time for that anymore with my new school schedule. Maybe I would need to lay off the booze a bit.
But with Drake driving? I was free to let loose for the first time in two weeks, and I wasn’t going to refrain from sucking down extra useless calories. The man was a tank and had the tolerance of three men, so I had zero issue with him enjoying a few before driving us home. Fuck knew we’d be sitting at the bar for three to four hours, so plenty of time for him to switch over to water before heading back to our responsibilities.
Not me though. I was going to do as I pleased, and getting drunk sounded divine. Everything else could wait until tomorrow.
We bullshitted about the Sox, Pats, and work, sharing more than we should about the final topic considering the NDAs Elites had to sign. While we didn’t exchange the names of clients, I wouldn’t have had any problems finding out exactly which ones Drake referred to since, as manager, I had unhindered access to all of EEMM’s files and oftentimes handpicked Elites for new clients.
“How was last night?” I asked as we sat at a high top in O’Malley’s bar. I expected Drake would give me all the details like he always did. I hadn’t gotten to enjoy a customer since the weekend before, so the dry spell was starting to make me restless for dick. Maybe I wouldn’t need pills to please the dignitary booked with me tomorrow night.
“It was the same guy I told you about a few weeks ago.” A corner of Drake’s lips curled, and he glanced at the TV screen that showed a repeat of the Sox game from earlier in the day.
“Our age, black hair?” I asked, remembering how Drake had gone on and on about him. “On the slender side? Gorgeous green eyes?”
Drake dipped his head, a slight pink stain spreading over his cheeks.
“The fuck, man?” I sat back, hands on my thighs and eyes wide. “Don’t tell me you’re falling for him.”
“I’m not.” Drake met my stare head-on. “Promise. But if he had red hair?” My best friend feigned a shiver/swoon moment, eyes rolling and everything, a rare display of playfulness. Thank fuck he had me as a sidekick to chill his seriousness. “That would be a different story altogether.”
He had a thing for gingers. They were his kryptonite, he’d stated on more than one occasion. Even had gone so far as to say he hoped to fall in love and have babies with one someday.
I cringed at the thought of both. Being tied down with extra weight shackled to my ankles? No fucking thank you.
“How are classes?” Drake asked as our waiter approached.
We gave our order for a bucket of IPAs, and I turned back toward my friend to answer. “Exhausting. I’m fried before six every night. Haven’t been to the gym in too fucking long. Took two magic pills last weekend in order to satisfy the customer.”
Drake blinked his baby blues at me, making me jealous for the umpteenth time over his thick, black lashes. And the fucker had muscles to spare too. Thank fuck there wasn’t an ounce of attraction between us, or our friendship would have failed years ago since I was a one-and-done kind of guy.
Freedom was my mantra. Nothing better than a buffet of man flesh to gorge on until sated?—
The memory of my hot professor knocked on the door of my lifelong stance, halting it in its tracks.
“Sean Fox needed help to get his dick hard?” Drake asked, pulling my focus off whatever the fuck had me thinking exclusivity might not actually be so bad.
I picked up some popcorn from the bowl the waiter had placed between us and tossed it into his face.
He snickered.
I didn’t, still unsettled by whatever the stirring inside me might mean.
The bucket of beers landed in front of us—the perfect diversion—and we both muttered our thanks. We each took one and tapped the long necks together.
“To freedom!” I said, my backside restless on the chair even though tiredness still clung like a bitch beneath my eyes.
“To life,” Drake added.
I enjoyed a long pull, loving the coolness sliding straight into my empty stomach.
“Forgot to eat,” I noted aloud.
