Page 9 of Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

“Not particularly.”

“Is that a problem for you, or just not your scene?” He asked the question, legitimately concerned that I might be jealous, or take issue with my boys.

“Not my scene in any respect, man.”

“Why go there at all then?”

I huffed out a sigh before I took the shot sending the balls scattering as two solids slid into opposite corners.

“Nice shot,” Rabbit conceded, and then waited for me to answer.

“Sometimes, it’s just easier to use the situation to take the edge off. Other times, it’s a fuckin’ headache to be associated with that shit.”

“So, she’s not yours too?”

“Nah, man. She belongs to them.”

Rabbit nodded his head as though I’d just admitted something he was already well aware of. I didn’t take him for the observant type since he was the consummate joker in the club, but the shrewd look behind his eyes clued me in. He had already known where I stood with the trio, and was simply clarifying so I could blow off steam.

“Bother you that people associate you with all that?” He swirled his cue around indicating whatever was taking place behind me still.

“Nah, their assumptions are based on what they think they see, I get it. I just hope that everyone else involved actually gets what’s not going on though.”

“Lucky for you, even if she’s a clinger, she has two other dicks to fall on, huh?”

I laughed at that, grabbed the beer that Shameless handed me as he sauntered over, and took a good long pull from it. “Let’s hope,” I state when I come up for a breath, and Shameless shakes his shaggy head back and forth, grinning at me, having obviously heard enough to get the gist of what Rabbit’s statement was about.

“Bunch of men ‘round here would kill to have your problems,” he joked.

“Well, from what I understand my problems are on full display over there, they’re welcome to ‘em.” The three of us laughed off the rest of the night as I schooled Rabbit in the fine art of using a pool table for one of its other intended purposes. To play the game instead of running game, or a train, or whatever else he liked achieving with women over here.

I ended up crashing in the room I had at the clubhouse that night. I wasn’t really able to go anywhere even if I’d wanted to since I was beyond trashed. Besides that, the only place I had to go was to the little three-bedroom house the guys had rented when they knew Amy would be coming to stay. I had been crashing there a bit since they took it on, but with her there now it seemed more like I’d be intruding so I had plans to stay away.

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