“As long as I was in thereandnot alone, I figured I might as well get to know one of our very happy customers. Or let him get to know me.”
Riley slips behind me to grab a bottle of rum, their voice mischievous over my shoulder. “You think you’ll know him any better by breakfast?”
“Yeah, now that Beau and Adrian have moved in together, are you inspired to find someone you can play house with?”
Riley’s already gone again, and Noah’s question is mostly meant to give me shit, but I don’t miss the quick hitch of Jake’s eyebrow at the mention of Adrian’s name. We’re all thrilled that Beau’s as happy as he is—Jake very much included—but Beau and Adrian had a bumpy start after a tragic end to Adrian’s previous relationship, and Jake hasn’t quite forgiven Adrian for a mess that probably deserves mutual blame. I’ve mostly stayed out of it, and I wouldn’t be in a position to judge anyway. The times I was a dick to my ex-husband are known to more than the few people I’ve kept within reach.
Maybe Jake has always been a goddamn saint, but I might need another eight years with him before I can be sure. And right now, everyone is still waiting for some kind of answer from me.
My past transgressions aside, I’m a bartender. I serve drinks and smile at strangers. I fuck around with plenty of them while I flirt with the rest. I’m careful not to promise them more, andit’s rare for anyone to expect to see me in the morning, breakfast low on the list of their fantasies. Playing house, even briefly, is unlikely to cross their minds when I can’t fathom more than an orgasm or two, so I shrug now. I love that Beau and Adrian have each other, but I also love my life just the way it is.
“Thanks, but I’ll stick to shorter games with fewer consequences. I was never all that great at living with someone the first time around,” I tell them, clearing my throat before I nudge the conversation back to the subject of our friendly quiz. “And kicking ass at bar trivia isn’t about being brilliant. It’s about having collected enough random information about enough random shit. I do well because when I’m not here learning from people who talk too much, I’m at home falling down one Wikipedia rabbit hole or another. And Jake does well because he’s old as fuck.”
“And somehow he still has half the bar eager to find out what his Harley would feel like between their legs,” Noah points out.
“I didn’t say he wasn’t sexy as fuck, too.”
And it’s true—all of it. Jake is nearly two decades older than I am, but nobody looks at his leather jacket and biker boots and then turns away because he’s in his mid-50s. He’s the absolute nicest guy who doesn’t give a fuck, and his confidence completes the undeniable attractiveness kicked off by laugh lines and a short gray beard. I know he was married once upon a time and has a daughter named Lucy, but I figure he’s intent on keeping his love life separate from the nights he’s here because he’s brought no one to Trailhead.
Nor has he taken anyone from Trailhead home.
I glance at Noah then, his baby face difficult to describe after being lost in Jake’s good looks for any amount of time. There’s no denying he’s sexy in his own way, but he’s V’s son, and a friend of damn near everyone at the bar, and the guy I’ve stupidly made out with twice because I don’t always leave well enough alone. He’s brought a girlfriend here a time or two, but I’m almost positive he’s single these days. I’d send him home with Brendan and his cosmo if I thought it would be good for either of them.
A quick look over my shoulder helps me find Riley, but I won’t attempt to describe their beauty tonight. More eloquent men have tried and failed at that endeavor, and Riley would stab me with a cocktail pick before I could get far with it. I nearly smile at the thought, but work to keep it to myself, slowly turning my head until I’m back to where I started.
Focused on Jake again, I catch him watching me closely, curious about something I won’t have time to explain when tonight’s host stops by with the next round’s scoresheet. Noah is ready to drink more than he helps, and I hand him a cold bottle just as the host’s voice cuts through the soft twang of a song I hear too often. It’s no surprise to any of us that Jake isn’t announced as one of the current top scores when he never turns in his answers, the wink aimed at me confirming that he’s doing this for fun, and not to take a win away from anyone else.
Without having a reason for my certainty, I’d bet all my tips that he doesn’t need a credit toward his bar tab.
“Okay, are y’all ready for the first question of this round?” thehost asks. He’s met with cheers from the rowdy crowd, and when Jake picks up his pen, Noah takes a long drink. I just wait. “The island of Corfu belongs to which European country?”
Noah pulls the beer away from his mouth, his eyes wide when he thinks he has the answer. “Oh, Italy?”
Jake and I take half a breath and dash his hopes in unison. “Greece.”
“Of course,” Noah says, shaking his head with a smile. “Pretty sure we didn’t spend much time studying Corfu in school, so how’d you both know that? Which one of you has been there, and which one is going home to pack a bag tonight?”
“I was there about 15 years ago,” I tell him.
“And I’ve always wanted to go,” Jake adds.
The second question of the round cuts us off before we can talk about it more than that, and I move away to clear a couple of empty glasses and close out someone’s tab. And for the next several minutes, I answer trivia questions over my shoulder or from a few feet away or while crouching behind the bar to restock everything we’ve used throughout the night. Jake gets more right than I do, but that’s fine—I’m both fiercely competitive and not, and losing to him isn’t the worst thing that can happen.
I’m already looking forward to the next time I can beat him and give him shit about it.
The final round features five pictures—anything from landmarks to celebrities to breeds of dogs—for players to identify within two minutes, and I’m still too busy behind the bar to see exactly what’s happening on Jake’s side of it. Noah shouts aboutsomething, the laugh around it giving me a reason to smile, and a quick glance makes me think he must have answered something Jake couldn’t.
I’m looking forward to giving Jake shit about that, too.
As trivia night winds down, the final scores tallied and prizes awarded, Riley kicks the side of my shoe in time for me to catch Brendan’s wave goodbye. I know it’s his subtle offer to stay for one more orgasm if I’ve changed my mind, but it only takes me a moment to carry that fantasy to its filthy end and back again. Then I let him go, returning my attention to Riley as I grin.
“You knowyoucould follow him home,” I say. “He was fun, and you deserve that at least as much as I do.”
I’m treated to an eye roll and love it, Riley’s guard dropped even as I poke at something personal. They know they can walk away and it’ll never bother me, but they stay now and it matters.
“Ethan’s home this week.”
“And that’s a good thing?”