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“I’ll drink to that.” Leon refills my glass. “So, what are we going to do?” Leon’s dark eyes dance with challenge and mischief.
I can see what he’s getting at.
“Are you a champion, Ash The Bear Johansson?” he asks with fire and determination in his tone.
“Fuck, yeah I am.” I slam my hand down on the bar.
Troy asks next, “Did you or did you not woo the pants off that girl from the minute you met her?”
“Fuck, yeah I did.”
Buster takes his turn, getting into the spirit of our game. “Did you turn into a fucking soppy bastard when you asked her to marry you in front of thousands of fans?”
“Yes, and I’m not ashamed of that.” I hold my hands in the air, cheering for myself. “Just call me Valen-fucking-tino.” I already feel better.
The energy between us buzzes like electricity through a circuit.
Getting worked up, Brayden raises his voice. “Have you ever failed at anything, Ash Johansson?”
“Never.” Suddenly feeling sober, my voice is full of confidence.
He asks another. “So why the fuck are you sitting in a bar on a Thursday, crying like a baby into your whiskey glass, when you should be—”
I cut him off. “I’m going to win her back,” I say with newfound determination coursing through my veins, my heart pumping fast.
“Fuck yeah.”
“Yeah, you are.”
“Yes!”
“Here we go,” they all say in unison.
“And we’re going to help you.” Troy raises his glass in the air.
We all pick up our glasses and I make a toast. “To winning Lily back.”
“And never losing her again,” Leon interjects. We all move our glasses in the air to chink them together in agreement.
“Wait.” Buster holds his hand up, stopping us. “Here’s to Ash winning Lily back, to never losing her again, and if he does, his friends get to chop off his dick and feed it to the bears in Jasper National Park.”
“I’ll fucking cheers to that,” Troy chuckles.
Leon joins in. “A bear for a bear.”
“Shut up.” I hold my glass and lift my chin, telling them to seal the deal, and we all down them, coughing uncontrollably with the fumes.
“Fuck that’s awful.” I screw my face up and wipe my lips in disgust.
“I’d rather have lemonade.” Troy vocalizes what we’re all thinking because we’ve never been the type of guys to drink until we can’t remember, which is ironic, given Buster and Leon now own a bar.
Brayden agrees, “So would I.”
“We’re a bunch of pussies.” Like a naughty schoolboy, Leon giggles. “Taxi for five.” He raises his hand in the air as if hailing a cab.
“So, what now?” I look around at my boys for help.
“We make a plan.” Buster pulls out his phone.
