Love On Tap (Love By Design 8) - Page 31

“Yeah, Oh. Now get up and let’s go.”

“What? Now? Won’t he be back?”

“He’s at the brewery and as much as I enjoy babysitting, I’d rather be with my girlfriend. The two of you can work this shit out. I’ll drive.” David gestured to the back parking lot and I followed him.

He drove me to the edge of town where a small factory like building sat. Easton’s Brewery had been painted on the side and I was finally getting a tour of Andy’s pride and joy.

“No more bombs, got it.” David opened the door and ushered me inside before leaving. I was on my own with this one.

28

Andy

“Dude is there a reason some prepubescent boy is sending me unsolicited dick pics?” Damian’s face looked like he sucked on a lemon and forgot the precursor of tequila. Either way it was rough and unnecessary. I also thought that for someone who thrived on being the group prankster he had a lot of gall being insulted by something he probably deserved.

It reminded of the footballs days when itching powder ended up in uniform bags and shampoo got swapped out for hair dye. We’d gotten into so much trouble but now those memories were worth it. I don’t think I could remember my teen years half as well without these guys doing stupid shit and trying to not get caught.

Evan looked up from his own phone responding, “That sounds like a felony waiting to happen.” Leave it to the cop in the group to set him straight. If I could have been anywhere else but here, I would have been. I left two months’ worth of paperwork in my office and the body of a hot brunette upstairs in my bed sleeping off a marathon round of sex. It was a miracle I wasn’t limping around my own bar from the exertion, but if having to act tough saved me ten years’ worth of agony then by god I’d find a way to power through until I could collapse in her arms later tonight.

“Did you piss off your wife again?” said Hunter. He flipped a bottle cap over and over between his fingers bored by all of this. He’d had years of living with Damien to know that most of these situations were of his own doing. Hunter remained stoic and his well of empathy was desert dry in regards to Damien’s antics.

Damien scratched his head. “No. I swear.”

Several looks passed between the group before Damien responded again.

“Well, I mean, I don’t think so.” He rubbed a hand over his head and face looking exasperated as he turned his phone several times in his hand like he was trying to figure out the best or worst angle of this terrible situation, much like my current life. I wondered what Kristen would say about this or if she would laugh it off like the rest of us. I know Hunter’s wife Taylor would laugh and then try hugging it out before Hunter hauled her over his shoulder like a caveman.

David shook his head before snatching the phone from his hand.

“Hey!” Damien shouted reaching for his mobile device. David held it over his head being a good deal taller than the rest of us. Chase breezed by and snatched it out of David’s hand and then tossed it to Whit who caught it like we were back on the football field circa high schools days. The phone made the rounds in the busy bar between us and patrons gave us glances while doing their own thing.

“What the fuck.” Damien waved his arms up and then planted them on his hips red faced. Neither Damien nor myself played on the team all four years and I quit before freshman year tryouts in favor of anything that kept me close to Sierra.

“Relax.” Whit teased him handing off the phone to Hunter who typed in Damien’s code unlocking the screen. Damien wasn’t having it though. A quick glance and Hunter passed it off to David again.

“Definitely not Demon dick.” Hunter grumbled chugging his beer to likely get the image out of his head. I had some bleach in the back storage closet if he was desperate.

“Of course not. Dude’s not pierced.” Damien looked a little too proud saying that for my comfort.

Chased groaned and reached over the bar uncapping a beer before chugging his also. “Things I didn’t need to know about my brother-in-law. Thanks.”

“Anytime bro.” Damien nodded at him with his typical cheeky grin.

“A shot of something strong please.” Chase motioned for Pedro who already had the makings of a Mind Eraser shot laid out behind the bar. He mixed Kahlua, vodka, and club soda before pouring a round and handing them out. David and Hunter passed, but the rest of us helped ourselves. Seriously, anything to get that image out my head would be worth it.

For a group like ours we had our moments. Some of us broke off into smaller groups and others floated in between lucky we all got along. Heck, even Damien and Evan made peace with each other after what seemed like a lifelong feud and we had subgroups dedicated to betting on who would throw down who first. David owed me fifty bucks and I owed Chase twenty and a free keg of my Winter Berry Ale. After all that, I’d never admit to kissing Damian’s now wife, Kristen. Doesn’t matter that it happened in a closet playing seven minutes in heaven in ninth grade at Becky’s birthday party because I honestly didn’t think he’d forgive me.

Damien continued to grumble good naturedly at our prodding. I asked Pedro to put in an order of nachos and potato boats to sooth his temper. Food was one way to rein him in and the easiest fix.

“You didn’t scratch your name and number on a wall somewhere did you?” I asked still wondering how a rando got his number and started sending pics of his junk. It wouldn’t have been the first time, but considering Damien’s been on his best behavior, it was odd.

“No. I haven’t done that in years, and definitely not any bars around here. In fact the only person I’ve given my number to recently was…oh fuck my life.” Damien hangs his head low and fists his fingers in his hair like he’s trying to pull it out. “Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.” He gets up and stomps around before slamming himself back into his seat.

“What?” We all shout waiting for him to deliver his big reveal.

Instead, Damien glared at me and pointed in my direction.

He looked like he was having a seizure or a Tourette’s moment waving his arms around as if he was attempting to wrangle his anger in. I was kind of glad he’d been mandated to those Anger Management classes but if he didn’t stop soon then I’d have to say they might have been ineffective overall.

Tags: M.C. Cerny Love By Design Romance
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