Page 30 of Bona Fide

? Pray — Picturesque ?

“But it’sthe biggest bar night of the year,” my buddy, Andy, rebukes as he gapes at me like I’m out of my damn mind.

I am—have been—but not when I promised Mama to be up early in the morning to help cook Thanksgiving dinner.

“I didn’t sign up for a major hangover for tomorrow,” I retort. “I have to cook a turkey at like five in the morning, knowing Mama.”

"I haven't seen you in forever, and you call me, drag me out here, then pussy out on drinks?"

I hit him with a glare. “You bitched at me for not wanting to come out. I’m here, you act like you have a curfew or something, so suck a dick.”

He smirks, exhibiting two perfect dimples and looks around the crowded bar. "Point out a big one, and I'll be more than happy to oblige."

“Uh-huh, I’m sure Nathan would love that.”

Andy bows his head down with a crooked smile as he grabs his drink off the table. “We broke up last week.”

Oh, shit.

“Damn, I’m sorry. Why didn’t you bitch at me sooner to hang out with you?”

“Because I’m a big boy who doesn’t need coddling—” He flicks his chocolate brown eyes up at me. “—just another cock to make me forget about the previous one.”

I laugh. “You’re a whore, Andy. You know that?”

“Says the bitch who fucked a dude hours after breaking off your engagement with Grant,” he shoots back.

Motherfucker.

“Touché.” I take another sip of my beer and wrinkle my nose over one of my many glorious moments.

“One tequila shot," Andy chimes, leaning over the table in his gray sweater. "And I promise I'll buy you another beer for you to sip on, so you don't look like a huge loser that isn't drinking."

I give him a thumbs-up as I baby the one in my hand.

“Atta girl!” The waitress comes to our table as if on cue, and Andy orders our shots, my beer, and his second drink. I order us cheeseburgers, extra fries, mozzarella sticks, and wings through Andy’s scowling.

“Dude, I’m trying to get drunk,” he chides as she walks away.

“It’s for me, fool.” He shakes his head and leans back against the leather of our booth.

“This place is nice and cozy.”

“I always come here when I come back home. Gets me away from the stiffs and overpowering smell of money.”

“Speaking of money—” He squints his eyes at me. “—how are things going working with the governor?” I catch my face deforming before it happens.

I don't want to talk about Wade while out with my buddy—the only one I can stand and bullshit with about how I hate it.

That I want out, but the smart fucker in the suit made me sign a contract so I’m stuck with him for a few more months.

“Why would you want to talk about that?” I ask, now picking at my beverage napkin.

“Why not?” he challenges off a shrug. “I haven’t been updated lately.”

“It’s...work.”

“He’s fucking hot.”

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