“Christ,” I mutter.
Dex jogs over and slaps my open hand. “How was the ride, brother?”
“Not bad.”
While we’re standing around catching up, Z, Wrath, and Murphy walk out of the woods and join us.
“Motherclucker!” Z runs over and bear hugs the shit out of me, actually lifting me a few inches off the ground.
“Easy, Prez,” I wheeze as he sets me down.
“You’re doing good shit out on the road.” He slaps my chest. “But you’re missed.” His mischievous eyes land on Jigsaw next. “And you!”
Jiggy eases away with his hands up which doesn’t deter Z at all. He slaps Jiggy’s cheek. “I miss your weathered, sour puss.”
Jiggy frowns. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“No,” Z answers. “How was the tour?”
“I’m sure Steer already had plenty of stories for you.”
“Indeed. Dex told us you were perving on Shelby’s mom.” Z grins at Jiggy, then me. “You two gonna make this a family affair?”
“Fuck off,” I growl. “No.”
“Definitely tap that if you get the chance, Jiggy.” Ravage rubs his hands together. “Older women are the best. They know what they want, what they like, and are more than happy to point a young stud in the right direction.”
“Christ, you must need a 3D map to figure a woman out,” Murphy says.
“See, that was point number five,” Jiggy says to me.
“Jesus. Not your list of reasons to date single moms again,” Dex groans. “You’re such a creepweasel.”
“You mean crapweasel,” Rav corrects.
“No,” Dex says slowly. “I meant creep.”
“Anyway, I was talking about older women, not single moms.” Rav shoves his hand in Dex’s face, dismissing him. “They’re not always necessarily one and the same.”
“Wait,” Z cocks his head at Jiggy. “Shelby’s mom can’t be that much older than you?”
Jiggy shrugs. “She’s like forty. So, twelve years.” He slides his sneaky gaze my way. “Not that big a deal.”
“Look how fast he did that math,” Murphy points out.
I flip him off.
“Oh, perfect.” Rav purses his lips in his weird version of a chef’s kiss. “Forties are where it’s at. They give no fucks by then. If you can’t make them come within an hour, they’ll throw you out on your ass.”
We all stare at him.
“I assume this happens to you often?” I ask.
Murphy scratches his head. “I admire your bravery, Rav.”
Rav turns his way. “Huh?”
“For admitting you’re bad at sex,” Wrath explains. “I mean, we all assumed, but thanks for the confirmation.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Yeahhhh,” Murphy says, drawing out the word to a high-pitched mocking tone. “It kinda is.”
Branches snap from the woods behind us and we all turn. Rock and Hope stroll off the path hand in hand.
Hope’s face brightens as soon as she sees us. Rock seems slightly less enthused to find his brothers all fucking around in the parking lot.
“Rooster! You’re back.” Hope rushes over and gives me a quick hello hug. “Jigsaw. How was your ride?”
“Not bad, first lady,” Jiggy answers, accepting the same quick embrace.
“Where’s my hug?” Z asks, opening his arms wide.
She rolls her eyes his way. “I already saw you this morning. When you snuck into my house.”
“You still doing that, Prez?” I elbow Z. “You’re gonna get shot one day.”
“Don’t give me ideas,” Rock mutters.
“Shelby’s not with you, right?” Hope asks.
“No. She’s still in Nashville.”
“You joined us just in time,” Murphy smirks. “Ravage here was telling us all how he’s bad at sex.”
Hope holds her hands up in the air. “Nope. I’m out of this one.” She kisses Rock’s cheek.
“Wise move,” Rock says.
“But we could use your expertise,” Rav pleads. “You’re close to the target demographic we were discussing.”
“Nope. Nope. Nope,” she shouts as she jogs over the gravel and up the clubhouse steps.
“Run, Cinderella, run,” Wrath encourages.
Rock chuckles as he watches her go. “Tell me why I shouldn’t follow her?”
“Because you love our enlightening conversations,” Rav suggests.
“Try again.”
Z’s studying Jiggy like a bug under a microscope. “Hold up. Why’d I always assume you were my age, Jiggy?”
“Because you’re an ass?” Jigsaw says helpfully. “Assuming stuff makes an ass out of—”
“Yeah, yeah, we get it,” Z grouches.
“Probably because you still think you’re twenty-two.” Wrath shoves Z sideways.
“And acts like he’s sixteen,” Rock adds.
“I am a young, impish soul, right?” Z grins and punches Wrath’s shoulder.
“If by impish, you mean dickish, then, yes,” Murphy adds, earning a fist bump from Wrath.
“I still fuck like I’m twenty-two, so there is that,” Z says.
Rock does a slow, exaggerated look around our group. “No one asked.”
I lift my chin at Z. “You definitely don’t look twenty-two, Prez.” I rub my hands over my cheeks. “You might want to start moisturizing daily. Maybe use a lil’ sunscreen.”
Z stops laughing. “No one can tell how old you are under that forest on your face, motherclucker.” He wags his hand at me dismissively.
“You are getting some wrinkles around your eyes.” Murphy squints and pretends to study Z’s face. “Just use Lilly’s stuff. That’s what I do.”