Yes, but he didn’t need to know that. “Of course not. There are more important things to focus on!”
“Right,” he said. “That explains why you’ve got an erection and you’re drooling a little bit.”
I wiped my mouth while cursing my penis for betraying me. “Whatever. You know what you look like. You’re making this difficult.”
“It’s my boyfriendly duty to make things difficult,” he said, and that made me a little light-headed, especially when he grinned at me.
“You have to think of the children,” I reminded him.
He grimaced. “I really wish you wouldn’t tell me to think of children when we’re both naked and you have my jizz drying on your neck. It’s really wrong and detracts from the moment we just shared. Also, you still have a boner.”
“It’s not my fault you came that much. Who does that? Your balls aren’t even that big!”
“Hey!” he barked. “I have perfectly sized balls. Everyone says so.”
“Everyone?” I growled at him. “Who the fuck is everyone?”
“What? That’s not even—oh my god, how do you even get me involved in conversations like this?”
“Crack babies!” I shouted back at him, and headed for the stairs.
He cursed behind me as I threw open the doors and ran down the stairs. I couldn’t believe that I’d let Darren distract me from the endgame that we’d be working for. Sure, it was a perfectly wonderful distraction, in that I’d just gotten pounded like a nail at a construction site and now had a boyfriend to show for it, but there was still an endgame to focus on. And I needed to make sure we’d done enough to have a fighting chance against Andrew Taylor and his Republican Army of Doom.
I made it downstairs and threw open the bottom door, strolling into the bar, focused on getting to Mike as quickly as possible, knowing it was what Vaguyna would have wanted. She was counting on me to save Jack It and I would do this for her.
I didn’t even really notice that the bar went silent the moment I stepped out from the stairs. I ignored everyone sitting at the bar. Izaac gaped at me and dropped a bottle of vodka on the floor. It didn’t sound like it shattered, so lucky him. And since I knew men on missions got parched, I slapped my hand on the bar as I stood right in front. “Tequila, if you please!”
He nodded, wide-eyed, before he set a shot glass on the bar and proceeded to pour me a shot. I slammed it back and signaled him to pour me another.
It was while I was drinking the second shot that I heard Darren stum
bling on the stairs. I looked back as he slammed open the door, fumbling with his jeans and little else.
“I told you this was the best bar,” one of the patrons whispered to his companion.
“Is it always like this?” the companion whispered back.
“Usually there are more sequins, but pretty much.”
“Sandy!” Darren barked at me.
“Stop trying to wile me with your chest hair and your pubes!” I bellowed at him, considering chucking my shot glass at him. But then I realized that he was my boyfriend now and that would be considered domestic violence, and the thought made me grin goofily. The boyfriend part, not the domestic violence part. No one should grin goofily at domestic violence.
“What is it with you and wile?” he said, still trying to button up his jeans but failing admirably as he stalked toward me.
“That’s my boyfriend,” I announced to everyone, because I felt like it should be said. “And I would never commit domestic violence against him.”
“Aww,” Izaac said. “I guess you won’t need to be looking at my nipples anymore.”
“What?” Darren asked, glaring at Izaac. “Why were you staring at his nipples?”
“I wasn’t,” I said. “That was before you, bae. I haven’t even seen them since you.”
“I bet mine are bigger,” Darren said, sticking out his chest and posing.
Izaac squinted at him. “You bet your nipples are bigger than mine? Do you have abnormally large nipples?”
“What’s even happening right now?” the patron whispered.