with that.”
Rocky let’s out a relieved groan. “Thank God. My ass is killing me from this hard stool.” She stands, rubbing each cheek.
“Want some help?” I thoughtfully inquire.
She titters. “You’d enjoy it way too much.”
“You’re right. I would.” Placing my hand on her lower back, I guide her into the next room. We settle onto two burgundy leather loveseats—Rocky and me on one and Larsen and Vi on the other directly across from us.
Flagging down a waitress, Larsen and I order another round of drinks and a couple of cigars.
“Do you guys live near each other?” Larsen asks the girls.
“Yep. We’re within fifteen minutes from each other and also Danika.”
“Do you get to see each other often?” Larsen questions.
Damn, he must really be liking Vi if he’s going the small talk route.
“We get together at least once each week.”
“How about you guys?” Vi turns the table on him.
“Me and Adam?” Larsen gestures between us.
“Yeah, and your other brothers too,” Vi clarifies.
“We see each other weekly. Sometimes we go out for drinks or over to one of our places to catch a game. Jack doesn’t join us as often as we’d like. He’s the oldest brother, and he has kids in their late teens. It seems like he’s always got something going on.”
“Or maybe he wants us to think he does,” I cut in. “Sometimes I think Jack avoids spending too much time with us on purpose. He prefers peace and quiet, and when the four of us get together it’s anything but.”
The waitress returns, setting our drinks down on the coffee table between the two loveseats and also a small rectangular dish with our cigars and everything we’ll need on it before hurrying off.
I hand Larsen a cigar and a small box of matches with the bar’s name printed on the top. Grabbing the cutter, I snip off the end and pass it to Larsen, so he can do the same.
Striking a match, I hold the cigar in my hand. Placing the tip above the flame, I roll it between my fingers until the end is glowing and then slip it between my lips. I puff a handful of times and glance at Larsen to find him doing the same. Smoking a cigar has always been something I find extremely relaxing. I can take my time and enjoy the taste. Leaning back into the soft, worn leather, I glance at our female companions.
“You sure you guys are okay with this?” I ask, waving my lit cigar.
“Definitely, I’ve always loved the smell,” Violet reassures, “and Roxanne’s been known to smoke them.”
My head turns to Rocky. “Really?”
She shrugs. “Occasionally.” Snatching the cigar from my fingers, she raises it to her slick, red lips. Entranced, I watch her mouth wrap around the brown cylinder and her cheeks hollow as she puffs on it.
Fuck me.
It’s only natural that now I’m imagining what her lips would look like wrapped around a certain appendage of mine.
She releases a perfect smoke ring, and I rub my palm over my chest, as if I can slow my rapidly beating heart.
Oh, Christ. I think I’m in love.
7
Roxanne
Remaining at the bar until closing, Adam drives us home, as he promised. Keeping a watchful eye on him at the bar, I made sure he didn’t drink too much. That’s the only reason I paid such close attention to him all night. At least that’s what I’m telling myself. But even I’m not buying my lame excuse.
He switched to drinking water for the last two hours, and that’s when I felt comfortable enough to take my own drinking up a notch or two.
Somehow, Vi and I ended up doing shots, which was a horrible decision. Thank God we had the presence of mind to refuse the Winters brothers offer of using their washboard abs for body shots. Well, I did, anyway. I don’t count Vi’s squealing and doing the Carlton dance as turning them down. Then again, neither was her licking salt from his stomach before slurping tequila from his belly button.
But somehow, common sense prevailed—mine, at least—and I was able to salvage some of my dignity. At least until we got inside Adam’s truck. Then I don’t know what got into Vi—well, that’s not exactly true. Larsen’s tongue definitely penetrated her mouth the minute the drive home began.
Now, I’m trapped in the front seat next to a smirking Adam, our ears being assaulted by moans, groans, and heavy breathing.
Leaning my head back against the leather headrest, I sigh.
What have I done