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“I will snatch those nachos away, you traitor!” Ode quips, coming in for my precious chips slathered in melted queso cheese, calling my damn name.
I haven’t eaten since we went to an Italian restaurant a few hours ago. The food was amazing. Like out of this world orgasmic. Especially for Central City. Granted, it was on the edge of town near their old stomping grounds. People stared and pointed as the boys walked in. And even more when I trailed behind them, scrunching my nose.
I’ve never been the type of person to care what others think about me. Where the hell would that get me? Nowhere. I am who I am. And my roots started in this very city. I’ll always give back to the people and places that raised me from the ashes of my demise.
But Leon’s nachos? Nothing beats them. Not even a five-layer lasagna with extra cheese and garlic bread at a snooty five-star restaurant. Especially when he adds creamy cheese on top with shredded bits of cheddar below, leaving it a melting pot of cheese, meat, and lettuce on top. It’s his specialty he loves to call…
“You love my cheese-on-cheese!” he says, grinning as he leans against the bar, placing his elbows on the top. “This is so surreal, Riv. You. Them. All here again.” He blinks several times, staring up at the now empty stage, devoid of human life. The only sign they were there is the instruments glistening in the blue and yellow spotlights. “They treating you right, baby girl?” he asks, raising a brow.
I shove a chip into my mouth, stuffing my cheeks. Nope. Nu-huh. Don’t want to have this conversation again.
“She’s afraid they’ll leave her again,” Ode, the loudest traitor, says. “Which I get, by the way. They were jackasses to the extreme. I still don’t want to trust them.”
Can’t she see I’m stuffing my face and don’t want to talk about this again?
“Give her some tequila; she’ll spill everything,” Ode, my former best friend, says with a menacing grin. I snort when she walks behind the bar, standing beside her brother. Reaching behind her, she grabs the most expensive tequila they have and slams it on the bar.
“Mmhmm,” Leon hums, grabbing three shot glasses and filling them with tequila. “Take your shot.” Sliding the small shot glass in front of me, he watches intently as I swallow my bite.
“Remind me why I call you family?” I quip, tapping a finger on the tiny glass filled to the brim with the devil’s golden liquid.
“You love us,” Ode says with a grin, holding up her shot glass. “Let’s toast!”
“To my sister from another mister fighting for love and happiness,” Leon says, grinning when we clink our glasses together.
“Weak toast,” Ode grumbles, bumping her elbow into his ribs.
“It was perfect. Thanks, guys,” I laugh, downing my shot.
It’s time to let go of everything. My hurt. Anger. Resentment. I wash it away with the burning liquid scorching my throat. This is a new adventure. Our past may guide us into the future. But I’m so tired of looking back and remembering how I felt when they left without a word. I’m ready to forgive and move on.
Reaching across the bar, I grab the bottle of tequila and refill our glasses with a grin.
“Oh, Riv’s getting wasted,” Ode laughs, grabbing her filled glass again.
“This is to new beginnings. New adventures. The door to the past is closed, and I’m ready to open the new door to my future. Here’s to us,” I say, clinking my glass against theirs. Tossing my head back, I down the shot again, groaning at the slight burn.
“You got this, baby girl,” Leon says, squeezing my hand. “Or I’ll hide them in my basement.” He grins, staring behind me as the crowd goes wild.
Butterflies fill my stomach when Rad pushes through the crowd. His grin lights up the room as he takes pictures with every person who asks him with joy until he gets to me. Those molten lava eyes catch mine, and he winks. He fucking winks, and my insides melt.
I blame the tequila.
“Is that nachos?” Rad asks, settling next to me on a bar stool with hearts in his eyes. “I love your damn nachos…” he trails off when he reaches for a piece. It’s the hand slap heard across the world. Or that’s what it seems like when he gasps. “Ouch, Pretty Girl. Sharing is caring!” he shouts with mock horror, putting a hand to his chest. “I swear we’ve had this discussion before. What’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is yours.” He waggles his brows at the implication.
Where’s that tequila? Because at this rate, I’m going to need the entire bottle to make it through tonight without doing something stupid. Like jumping their bones in the bathroom. Or reclaiming my office.
Calm your tits. No boning. Not right now. We’re just now working on us and becoming an us again. Sex complicates everything.
Or makes you feel better.
Fuck my life. I blame this entire day on the amber liquid sloshing around in my stomach. It’s always the tequila’s fault.
“Yeah. It is. But I don’t share my cheese-on-cheese nachos. Get your own.” I give him my best stink eye, and he grins, rubbing his hands together.
“Yo, barkeep! I want some nachos,” he says, playfully pounding a fist onto the counter.
Leon frowns, leaning forward with a sour huff. “I’m not your damn barkeep, Mullet. How many times do I need to tell you that?”
