Page 12 of Best Served Cold

He looked…different. A little unhinged and a bit crazy, but that only fueled the strange energy coursing through me.

When he finally stopped, Zane’s gaze fixed on me. His wide smile and bright eyes were so out of character for him, I was momentarily speechless.

“Keep thinking that, sweetheart,” he said. “But I guarantee you wouldn’t be rocking anything, pierced dick, or no.”

I wiped my lips with the back of my hand. “You willing to bet on that?”

“Yes!” Bubbles was bouncing on his feet. “Now this is what I call entertainment.”

Zane ignored him. “No point betting. There’s nothing you can give me that I want.”

“You sure about that?”

His grin went wicked. “Well, there is one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Your name.”

“My name?”

“Mmhmm.” He tilted his head to the side, that eerie grin still tilting his lips.

My first day on the site, Jerry, our boss, had introduced me as “Rathbone” to the guys. Within the hour, everyone was calling me Rath, and the nickname stuck.

Pops had asked what my first name was about a week ago, and I’d made a big thing about keeping it secret.

Why? Who the fuck knew. I had issues with impulse control, and it had seemed like a good idea at the time. I had no reason to keep the joke running, other than it was fun.

“Fine. But when I win, you tell me where your weekend job is.”

Zane, River, and Gray all went still.

It was a dick move to ask for information about all three guys and not just Zane, but it was the best I could come up with in the moment.

Zane glanced at his brother, then at Gray. Both men nodded to him.

He leveled me with another classic glare. “Fine.”

“What are you even betting on?” River wondered. “I mean, we have the terms, but not the actual bet.”

“Yeah we do!” Bubbles was literally jumping now, his expression gleeful.

“Did you sneak a Red Bull into your beer?” I asked. “You have the energy of a toddler.”

“The physique of one too.” Tiny patted Bubbles, who was nearly a full foot shorter and half his weight, on the head affectionately.

“Fuck off.” He slapped Tiny’s hand away. “It’s short king summer, remember?”

“Isn’t it fall now?” River asked.

“Not for a few weeks.” Bubbles waved him off. “But back to your bet.”

I blinked, almost forgetting that’s what we’d been talking about.

“I think we need a game of gay chicken,” he continued, his grin so wide he looked deranged. “You’re both straight, right? Ever kissed a guy?”

“No.” I paused. “No to the kissing-a-dude part, yes to the straight part.”

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