It was my turn to softly laugh before I spun around, opened the fridge, grabbed two beers and turned back to offer one to Rubin.
His eyes widened as he stared at the bottle that had drips of condensation falling down it.
“You allowed this shit?” I asked, at least pretending to be responsible for just a second. He was drinking it whether he was allowed or not.
“Probably not.”
“Daddy got you on a leash?”
“He wishes.” Rubin rose from his stool and reached out for the bottle in my hand.
I glanced at Deeks and saw the unspoken questions in his eyes. A sly wink from me told him to play along. Thank God for the Hounds and their silent language. It came in useful on occasions like this. Uncapping the bottle, I passed it over to Rubin and then fell back to lean against the back of the bar, crossing my legs at the ankles and sinking a hand into the depths of my pocket while my other lifted my beer to my mouth.
Rubin looked at his beer, blinking for a brief second before he whispered under his breath. “Fuck it.”
“Atta boy,” I chuckled, watching as he sat back in placeand chugged a third of it in one. It wasn’t the first time he’d drunk in this place. He and Tate were doing it all the time on a weekend. They’d sit on the sofas, surrounded by the women when Libby wasn’t around, and they’d slide each other shots of whiskey and bottles of beer all night long.
But this was early afternoon and a midweek day. Rubin knew what happened when you had one beer in this place. It always led to fourteen more.
“God, that tastes good,” he gasped as he rested his bottle on the bar top.
“Your old man not like you drinking?” Deeks asked, his body turned to face Rubin, leaning against the counter. He looked like an all-year-round Santa Claus, ready to extract truths and secrets from anyone willing to talk to his innocent-looking face.
“Dunno.” Rubin shrugged.
I scowled. “Surely he knows you’re dabbling in the stuff at your age.”
Rubin picked at the bottom corner of the label on his bottle. “Ya kidding? That would mean him paying attention to something other than his own ego.”
I sucked air in through my teeth, creating a low whistle. “I sense tension.” I raised a brow.
“Nah.” Rubin shook his head. “Tension means there’s an issue. Like… one of us is mad at the other or some shit. It ain’t like that between us.”
“What’s it like?” Deeks asked softly.
Rubin shrugged a shoulder again, looking up at Deeks. “He’s just someone I know.”
I knew that feeling. I thought of Eric again, my face falling as I filled my lungs with all the oxygen they could holdbefore I released it through my nose and took another sip of my beer.
“That’s kinda sad,” Deeks offered with genuine sympathy.
“You guys never talk?” I asked Rubin.
“Only when I fuck up.”
“Fuck up how?”
“You know. Bad grades, detentions, hanging around with Tate who suddenly isn’t good enough anymore according to Dad.”
“Can’t imagine why,” I whispered sarcastically.
“He doesn’t know shit. I’d tell him, too, but it ain’t like he’s ever around or that he’d even listen.”
I cleared my throat quietly, rolling my shoulder. “Where is he if he ain’t with his family?”
Rubin glanced up at me, his frown weak as his eyes searched mine. “Why you interested in him all of a sudden?”
I turned the corners of my mouth down, trying to look as uninterested as I possibly could. “Just making conversation.”