Page 91 of Lyrical

Five aces. He mouthed, “Busted.”

Motherfucker. I tossed my cards, and they skittered over the table. I didn’t give a shit about winning the game. I gave a shit about putting that asshole in his place. Jeff had been goading me all night, and that fucking smirk was long due to come off with my fist.

“Hey, Alex,” he yelled towards the kitchen. “Ready to head out and start hitting some bars, little bro? It’s getting a little stale in here.”

“If it’s cool with Stephen.”

The plan was to come to Alex’s place first, play a little poker, have a few drinks. He lived a block over from Water, so we’d stay awhile and then make the short trek to go pub crawling. Nothing too nuts, downright innocent for a bachelor party, but hey, I wanted nothing to do with that shit anyway.

“Hell, yeah. I’m ready,” one of the other guys at the table said. Mr. Crew Cut and Glasses. I was fucking awful with names right then. “I love you guys and all, but I’m not looking to finish off my night with dick.”

“How ’bout you, Chase?” Jeff glared at me, smirk still evident as he toked up. “You up for some more action too?”

“I’m doing fine right here.” We’d already stayed much longer than intended, played more than just a few hands, had more than a few drinks. I was sure there was already someone passed out as we spoke.

He nodded. “Pussy-whipped, huh?”

I pushed from the table and stood. Stephen was there, hand on my chest. “Chill out, man. I mean it.” His hand was on me, but he was talking to Jeff.

“Yeah, of course, buddy. It’s your party.” His mouth curled higher, and he laughed before taking a drag. “I didn’t mean anything, just messing around.”

I walked away. I was fucking hammered. We all were. I was rethinking the rest of the evening. It wouldn’t be fine staying there, not when the atmosphere was a fucking explosion waiting to happen. We could all use some fresh air.

I sat down on the couch next to Daniel, who was watching the Cubs game. Scratch that—there was one sober guy in the bunch.

He glanced over at me. “My mom’s not too big on fighting.”

“I know.” I plowed my hand through my hair. “So, how’re you doing tonight?”

“Hey, where’d Tommy go?” I heard in the background, then the sound of glass breaking.

Daniel looked towards that direction, then back to me. “Are you asking how it feels to be the only one not drunk in a room full of drunken idiots?”

I laughed. “Something like that.”

He shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

“Does it bother you that I’m one of them right now?”

“Why would it? I have my own reasons for not drinking. I’m not judging anyone who does.”

I nodded. “That’s cool.” Fuck, I needed that air. I’d never been even close to that intoxicated in front of him, and I didn’t like it one bit. Shit happens, I get it, but after Jeff showed up and got it into his head that he wanted to fuck with me, the liquor started going down a little too easily.

We sat in silence watching the game while I considered several times stepping away. But it was going all right. He didn’t seem bothered by me. I could handle it.

After another couple innings and a few rounds of Jager that I declined, Daniel glanced my way again. “There’s something I’m curious to ask you, Chase.”

“Shoot.”

“Why—”

“Hey there, Daniel boy.” Jeff was acting every bit the loud asshole that he was, stumbling over and fucking interrupting. He patted Daniel on the back. “Man, just look at you. All grown up now. I can remember you back in the day running all over that big yard of yours. What, were you about seven, eight when I first started coming around?”

Daniel shook his head. “I really couldn’t tell you.”

He laughed, taking a seat on the recliner and leaning back. “Your mom threw some great parties.”

I knew what he was fucking doing, and I hated the fact that he’d been to the house before. Hated the fact that he’d had his eye on Jillian the whole time while she was married.

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