Nice Guys Don't Win (The Boys #2) - Micalea Smeltzer Page 0,50

there a costume competition?” I ask Cole under my breath.

“Maybe. I don’t know. But Teddy does everything over the top. You get used to it.”

“If he ends up shit-faced back at our place, I’m not peeling that thing off his face.” I shudder at the idea of removing whatever prosthetic is glued to his face to give him the snake like appearance.

“Nah, we’ll let Jude deal with him.” He nods at the guy on the other end of the table dressed as Cupid with several girls hanging off him. One is dressed as a sexy nun, which I can’t help but roll my eyes at.

Teddy reaches the table and sets the tray down. He passes a shot to me and another to Cole.

“Mom and Dad go first.”

Mascen chortles. “You call them Mom and Dad?”

“Sure, they’re my college parents.” Teddy passes out the rest of the shots. Picking up his own, he stands at the front of the table and lifts it high in the air. “To great friendships, memories made, and of course, finally, to that bitch ass Harry Potter. Cheers.” He downs his shot just as a wide-eyed guy side steps our table, ironically dressed as Harry Potter. Teddy spots him and in his best Lord Voldemort impression says, “’The boy who lived. Come to die.’”

Cole leans over to me, his lips brushing against my ear and sending a shiver racing down my spine. “He’s having way too much fun with this.”

“Jude,” Teddy points his wand at the football player, who cocks his head, waiting for him to go on, “next round is on you, my friend.”

Jude lifts his empty shot glass. “You got it. Excuse me, ladies.” He extricates himself from his posse of girls.

Still standing in front of the table, Teddy adjusts his cloak, and grins, wiggling his eyebrows when he slides his hands inside. “It has pockets.” And then he does a little spin like a girl who’s just discovered her dress has pockets.

“How much has he already had to drink?” Cole asks Mascen.

Mascen stares into his glass of beer. “Just a beer when he first got here and the one shot. Teddy never needs much alcohol to be … well, Teddy.” He raises his glass toward Teddy’s figure where he’s shouting random spells at patrons. He takes a sip of his drink and eyes Cole. “What are you supposed to be anyway?”

“Zeus.” He plays with the laurel on his head. “You know, the Greek God.”

“And you must be Tinkerbell?” He arches a brow at me.

“Ding-ding-ding we have a winner.”

Jude reappears with more shots and Teddy grabs one, doing a little happy dance.

I’m so glad I didn’t come up with an excuse to not come tonight, because witnessing Teddy as Voldemort is worth it.

“Are you singing tonight?” I ask Cole, passing him a shot and taking one for myself.

He makes a face like something tastes sour, but he hasn’t even downed his shot yet. “Probably not.”

“Come on.” I nudge his shoulder. “You’re so talented.”

“Maybe if I get drunk enough,” he half-whispers, but gives me a tiny smile.

I take my shot, trying not to wince at the bitter bite of alcohol going down my throat. “Get me drunk enough and I might even sing with you.”

He turns his body toward me, his smile making his eyes twinkle. “Now that has me intrigued.”

“Don’t get your hopes up too much. It’ll take a decent amount to get me there.” I lift my empty glass and set it on the table.

“Well, if Teddy has anything to say about it that can be arranged.” He flicks his fingers toward his friend who’s dragging Murray, dressed as Iron Man, out from the booth with orders for more drinks.

After another shot, I slip out of the booth and head to the bathroom for a pee break. On my way back to the table I stop off at the bar and request two glasses of water. At the table, I pass one to Cole and he smiles gratefully. That smile does weird things to my stomach, like make it flip and jump around like a horde of butterflies are taking flight.

“We need to stay hydrated if we have any chance of survival,” I hiss to Cole, just as Teddy’s next volunteer, Cree, shows up with drinks for the table.

Under his breath, he says, “I think Teddy’s trying to kill us all tonight.”

“Ah,” Teddy leans in, somehow having overheard with his supersonic hearing, “but what a fun death it will be.” He hands Cole and