Page 98 of Panther's Magpie
“Come on, let’s get a drink,” Calloway says over the music.
We weave through the brothers and head to the bar. I find a small gap and saddle up against it. Calloway cages me against the bar as he steps up against my back. My breath catches as he kisses the spot where my neck meets my collarbone.
“Your hair is getting long,” he murmurs against my skin.
“I know. I need to get a haircut.”
“You don’t like it long?”
“No.”
I could tell him how my mother was almost obsessed with me having long curly hair in the family photos they would have done once a year but don’t. She wanted us to look like the perfect all-American family, and for some reason, that included having long hair.
“No, it’s hard to maintain, but if you like it…”
“Magpie, wear your hair however the fuck you want. It’s your choice. Short or long, doesn’t matter to me. It was just a question.”
I love how he just accepts it and doesn’t push. It makes me feel seen and heard.
“Hey, you two,” Rain says as she approaches from behind the bar.
“Hey, are you working?” I ask.
“I am.”
“I thought Prospect Three was supposed to be behind the bar tonight,” Calloway barks.
Rain nods. “He is. He went to change out the kegs, though, and he was drowning on his own back here trying to keep up.”
“Fine, but don’t work too long,” Calloway tells her.
“Yeah, I want to have a drink with you,” I add.
Rain’s eyes light up. “I’d like that. Now tell me what do you two want?”
“Vodka cranberry, please.”
“Beer for me.”
Rain taps the bar. “Coming right up.”
As she makes our drinks, I look around the room and smile. The brothers look so happy and carefree.
Booing has me looking over at the pool table. Eagle stands there, arms wide with a smile on his face and a pool stick in his hand.
“I take it he won,” I say, pointing at him.
I love playing pool. We had a table at home growing up, and I used to spend hours playing by myself. I became obsessed with learning all the trick shots and how to hit the ball at just the right angle to make it do what I wanted.
When Aspen and I first got to California, we used to hit up a pool hall on campus. We paid for our couch with our earnings from hustling guys who were too stupid to realize that we knew the game.
I smile as I think about it. It’s been too long since I’ve played.
Calloway looks over and chuckles. “Yeah, never play against him. He’s kind of our resident pool shark. Everyone always thinks that they will beat him, but they don’t.”
“They think that today will be their lucky day and then are sorely disappointed.” I laugh as an idea takes root.
“Exactly.”
