Page 100 of Heart Strings & Hotlines
“Want another beer?” a server asks, appearing out of nowhere.
“No. Two is enough.”
Boone laughs. “That’s your fourth, my friend.” He glances at the mug in my hand, then back to the pool table.
“No, it’s not.”
“It is.” Rafe chuckles. “But it’s okay, we’re done. Some water would be good though.” The server smiles at him and walks away.
Four beers? Four Sip of Moonshines? Jesus. The porcelain gods had better stay far away from me, or I’m going to be pissed.
I sit on a stool while Boone racks the balls and Rafe makes a crude gesture with his pool stick and a strange block he has in his other hand.
“It’s chalk,” he says.
I must have been frowning at him, but he can’t blame me, he looked like a fucking pervert.
“I’m going to marry Charlotte.” I pinch my lips together. That inside thought should not have escaped.
Four heads slowly turn my way. Great. I’m seeing double so I close my left eye. That’s better.
Rafe laughs out loud while Boone chuckles at the pool table.
“What’s so funny about that?” Irritation bubbles up more violently than normal.
“Nothing except the panic that showed on her face when Rafe told the nurse she was your fiancée at the hospital.” Boone, I decide, is an asshole.
“Why would she panic? I love her.”
Their expressions change but because there’s four of them, I can’t begin to decipher what’s happening, and it’s too much work to keep one eye closed.
“You…you what?”
A smile blooms on my face so fast my cheeks hurt as I spin toward the sound of Lottie’s voice, and nearly fall headfirst onto the floor but somehow manage to remain seated.Smooth, Thane. Real smooth.
“You’re here.”
“And you’re drunk.”
I point two fingers at the pool table. “It’s their fault. They were having girl time talking about Boone’s family problems?—”
“Hey, not cool, man. Bro code and shit.” Boone drops his cue stick onto the table and crosses his arms.
“I’ve never had a bro code.” I think I’m enjoying bro code, but I can’t stop staring at Lottie’s pretty face.
“Sharky’s waiting outside for you,” she says.
Boone takes off toward the front door.
“I don’t like to drink,” I tell her.
She steps forward until she’s standing between my legs.
“What did they do, hold you down and force-feed it to you?” She has the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen.
“Worse.” Did I whisper that? “They talked about their feelings, and I had to numb the pain.”
Her laughter draws the attention of a nearby couple. I scowl at them for looking at my girl.
