“Cut her off,” Wyatt growled out.
Kane grinned brightly and shoved the margarita toward Harper. “I like this side of your girl.”
“She isn’t—”
“Don’t you fucking not-claim me in front of your friend, or I will burn all the hair off your stupid body.”
Kane snorted, Harper slurped at her drink, Wyatt smelled like fur, and everything was great.
With a gulp, she said, “Age twenty-three, I had a one-night stand.”
“Stop it.” Hooo, Wyatt was making the air all heavy.
“I did because I was lonely and I wanted someone to touch me and make me feel good like you used to.”
“This is awesome,” Kane said popping a handful of peanuts from one of the community snack bowls into his mouth.
“Don’t you have drinks to serve, man?” Wyatt asked.
“I think his name was Benjamin, and I almost let him eat me out, but then I changed my mind, and newsflash, he was a sloppy kisser. That night I learned what whiskey dick is, so I came out of there feeling really sexy. It was age twenty-five until I tried that one again, with more success, and I felt like a goddess until about five minutes later when I got sick to my stomach because he wasn’t you.” Harper hiccupped. “Age twenty-six, two weeks after my birthday, I had my first seizure.”
The smile faded from Kane’s lips. Good.
“I had my first bout of The Unrest, so I got scared. Terrified actually. I tried to find you. Wes wouldn’t help me track you, and I hated everyone, my dragon especially because she was doing this to me. And then Derek Hoover, the man I dated out of desperation to save myself, cheated on me with anyone who had a slimy vagina hole.”
“Whoa,” Ryder said from Wyatt’s other side.
Wyatt looked green and wouldn’t meet her gaze anymore.
“So there is the million people I dated. Tell me about Trixie-Nips and Cinnamon.”
Wyatt hung his head and heaved a sigh that tapered into a growl. “Trixie-Nips and Cinnamon were really named Ashley and Emma, and we broke up because they weren’t you.”
“He said your name when he fucked ’em,” Kane said. “Both of them broke up with him in under two weeks. Came in here complaining to me like I could fix him.”
“What the fuck, man?” Wyatt griped. “Piss off! Please, go literally anywhere but here.”
“I’m helping.”
“You’re really not.”
“Actually, he is.” Harper smiled sheepishly. “That does make me feel better.”
“Great,” Wyatt gritted out. He chugged his water and crumpled the empty plastic bottle in his fist like he wished it was Kane’s neck. He chucked the bottle at Kane, who caught it easily, and then Wyatt strode out of the bar without looking back.
“Woman,” Ryder said, staring at the door as it slammed closed, “you sure know how to push them buttons.” He yanked her half empty drink away. “You really are cut off.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Sloppy,” he said, shaking his head. He was smiling, though, so she shoved him in the arm before she meandered toward the door.
“You gonna make out with Wyatt?” Aaron called across the whole damned bar.
“No!” Probably not. Just in case, though, she snatched a handful of peppermints from the jar by the door and dropped three trying to unwrap one.
“That’s a yes,” Aaron said as he leaned down to hit another ball into the side pocket.
Weston was watching her with a troubled mother-hen expression, but whatever. She was sotally tober. Sober. Totally sober.
Harper shoved open the exit door and promptly tripped over a rock on the sidewalk. With a yelp, she went down hard, but a few centimeters before her palms hit the ground, a pair of strong arms yanked her backward.
She flopped around in Wyatt’s embrace and grinned up at him. At least, she thought she was grinning. Her lips were numb from the tequila. “My knight in shining camo.”
Wyatt looked down at his camouflage-print thermal sweater and snorted. Setting her upright, he muttered, “You make it really hard to stay angry. I forgot about that part.”
“We always sucked at fighting.”
Wyatt’s eyes were still blazing the color of frost, but he ran his hand over his hair, mussing it as he tried and failed to contain a grin. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk before.”
“I’m not drunk.” The peppermint flopped out of her mouth and hit the ground. Gritting her teeth in concentration, Harper swayed and reached for the candy. “Five second rule,” she mumbled, but Wyatt kicked her sugary target into the street.
“Five second rules don’t count when you drop something sticky in the dirt. It had a leaf on it, Harper.”
Harper rocked her head all the way back and frowned. “You look grossed out. And tall. What are you now? Seven foot eleven inches?”
Wyatt huffed a laugh and shook his head. “That’s a really specific number, and no. I’m six-three. I should probably get you home.”
“Home. Your home?”
Wyatt cleared his throat, and a troubled frown marred his perfect face. “Yeah, my home. That’s what I meant.”
Harper looked at the peppermint in the street, all caked in mud now. “Well…I was going to seduce you, and now the boys will make fun of me. They’ll think I couldn’t close the deal.”