“You’re saying I don’t know how to have fun?”
Rosa rolled her eyes. “There are other ways to have fun that don’t involve shooting things.”
“I agree, but you and your girlfriend keep turning me down.”
“Cabron,” Rosa muttered under her breath, smiling brightly at Dex who returned her smile with an added a wink.
Ash shook his head, his expression one of disbelief. “I don’t get it, man. How can Butt-Boy have more game with women than me?”
Sloane turned to look at Ash, his expression deadpan. “It’s a mystery.”
“Fuck you and your boy toy.”
That made Sloane laugh. “How are they not falling at your feet? Clearly there’s a conspiracy at work here.”
Ash glowered at him, his bottom lip jutting out tragically. “He’s turning you against me.”
Cael patted his bicep, reassuring him sweetly. “I think you’ve got game.”
“You do?” Ash perked up and flipped Sloane off. “Cael thinks I’ve got game, so you can bite me. Keep it up and you’re getting demoted from BFF to BF.”
Sloane held back a smile and saluted him with his beer. “Duly noted.”
Cael hung his head in shame. “He’s doing the grabbing air thing.”
It wasn’t so much the grabbing air thing that made Sloane cringe as the lyrics harping on about love affairs and strangers falling in love again. Why the hell did Dex have to look at Sloane when he sang? Sloane tried not to fidget in his seat, pretending the lyrics didn’t mean anything, or that Dex’s throaty singing didn’t go straight to his dick. His jeans were starting to get uncomfortable.
“Aw, he’s serenading you,” Ash teased.
Sloane gave him a daggered look. “Fuck off.”
My God, when will it end? How long was this damn song? He snuck a peek at the rest of the audience, a good deal of whom were swaying and gazing dreamily at Dex. How the hell did the guy do that? Okay, so maybe he could sing, and he did know how to move. Damn, but he knew how to move. Dex was dressed in his usual black and white Chucks, a pair of scruffy jeans, a gray T-shirt with aviators hanging off the chain from his dog tags, and a black leather jacket. Damn, okay, the guy was fucking sexy. His dirty blond hair was ruffled, his jaw stubbly, he had a smile that was slightly crooked and dopey, and an infectious laugh. He could be as perceptive and sweet as he was frustrating and over the top.
“Hey, Sloane.”
Sloane snapped himself out of it, his gaze shifting warily to Ash. “What?”
“Your gay is showing.”
“Screw you.” He snatched Ash’s beer. “Just for that, this is mine now.” Stupid Ash. Maybe Sloane was spending too much time with Dex and his brother; he was starting to sound like Cael. Ash leaned over, though for what purpose, Sloane had no idea, considering he didn’t bother lowering his voice.
“Admit it, you’d hit that.”
“That’s a stupid question,” Letty pitched in with a snort. “Who wouldn’t hit that?”
Rosa perked up, turning to her friend. “Letty. Fuck, marry, kill.”
This night just got better and better. Onstage, Dex was singing away, playing to the crowd, and now his team was going to start playing the worst game ever. Maybe Sloane could slip away, pretend he was going to the bathroom, and run. He considered it, until Letty offered her choices.
“Too easy. Fuck Sloane, marry Dex, kill Ash,” Letty said.
Sloane’s embarrassment was superseded by Ash’s expression of disbelief. “Wow. Thanks, partner.”
Letty shrugged. “Rosa?”
Rosa took a sip of her beer, considering her choices carefully. “If I was into cock? I’d totally fuck Dex, marry Hobbs, and kill Ash.”
“Seriously?” Ash threw his hands up, and Sloane tried not to laugh. The girls didn’t bother. Poor Hobbs went red in the face to the tips of his ears, and Rosa gave him a wink. For a moment, Sloane thought Hobbs was going to run. Like hell he was. Not without taking Sloane with him.