Page 8 of Vodka And Virtue

“It’s Carlisle,” I corrected. I couldn’t handle him being that intimate with me without my knees threatening to buckle.

“See ya!” my brother called out as he rounded the hood of the car. The weight of Rory’s stare was heavy on my shoulders as we backed out of the driveway.

“What’s with you?” Carson asked as we pulled away.

“Me? Nothing, why?”

“You’re just not acting like yourself. That guy still giving you those looks?”

Those looks?Did he mean the ones that felt as if they were burning a hole through my soul? As if they could see through me to the person I was underneath, as if I was made of glass? The looks that made me squirm like a bug under a microscope? Yep. Every single time I saw him.

“Rory? Nah. Everything’s fine.”

Carson glanced at me sideways, and I knew he didn’t believe me, but thankfully, he let it drop.

“You know what you need? A night out to loosen up. And don’t invite that chick, Susannah, either. I’m not crazy about her.”

Me neither.

And like an idiot, I asked, “What do you know about Rory anyway?” The words came out of my mouth before I could check them.

He snickered, and I realized I was giving myself away.

“I’ve known Rory for years. He’s been friends with Uncle G and Shannon forever. He moved away a few years ago, but since he’s been back, he’s been tight with Uncle G again. Why?”

He knew why. That was why he was grinning like a cat toying with a mouse.

I was the mouse in this scenario.

“Just curious about the people I work with. Nothing wrong with doing my due diligence. It’s quite responsible of me.”

“You’re so full of shit.” He chuckled, reaching out to mess up my perfectly gelled hair.

* * *

“Why dowe always end up here when you suggest a night out? Is there no other establishment in town besides this sports bar?”

Limericks Sports Bar and Grille was family owned and operated, it was another home away from home for me, but God, was I tired of spending my night off here every week.

Carson rolled his eyes. “Stop complaining and go get us a pitcher of beer.”

“Name a better place and I’ll consider it,” my cousin Gordy challenged.

“Literally anywhere. The movie theater? The bowling alley? Hell, the damn grocery store!”

“Nah,” Gordy said. “I'm gonna grab us a pool table before they all get gone.”

The brick walls, scarred hardwood floors, and green vinyl stools hadn’t changed in years. For all of my complaining, I would miss this place if I stayed away too long.

I approached the bar and grabbed two full pitchers of foamy beer from my uncle.

“You boys come in here every week and drink my beer for free, hog my pool tables, and generally just make a nuisance of yourselves. Probably to annoy me purposely.”

“Good to see you, too, Uncle G. Thanks for the beer.”

After depositing them on the table, I made my way across the bar to the jukebox and dug some quarters out of my back pocket. If I had to spend the next three hours here, I could at least enjoy the music.

I rejoined them, taking my seat as my brother poured me a tall glass. Carson nudged Gordy’s shoulder. “Hey, man, that couple over there is checking you out. You should go over there.”

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