Page 47 of Heartsmashed
“Kamikazes are tonight’s special since, apparently, that was the drink of choice the night your moms met. Blame them.”
“Of course it was,” Sawyer said, knocking his back, one after the other. “I like it.”
Drew’s nose wrinkled. “Tastes like bad decisions to me.”
“Accurate,” I said, setting my empty glasses on the bar top.
“Absolutely not. Don’t even think about it.” Hudson moved suddenly, blocking Sawyer in at the bar. Sawyer froze, his glass halfway to his mouth, his eyes shifting from the DJ booth to his brother.
“I haven’t even moved yet,” he said.
“You were thinking about it.”
“That’s not a crime.”
“It is in this family. That booth is off-limits to you tonight.”
Rome leaned in toward me and said, “He’s been banned from playing DJ at family events since the Great Breakup Playlist Incident a few weeks?—”
“They werelovesongs,” Sawyer interrupted.
“Traumatic love songs.” Drew brought his drink to his lips and shrugged. “Sorry, man. It was depressing as hell.”
Sawyer waved them off and turned to me, eyes brighter than usual. “I’m just gonna say hi, is all. Maybe play a song?—”
Hudson groaned out a complaint behind him, and Sawyer threw his hands up.
“It’s one song, calm your tits.” Then he looked back at me, and I nodded.
“Play something good.”
“I always do.”
“Debatable,” someone muttered.
Sawyer squeezed my arm, and by my ear said, “If they tackle me and I kick their ass, you saw nothing.”
“I’ll testify on your behalf.”
“Good,” he said, already backing away. “I’ll need it.”
Then he was gone, weaving through the crowd toward the DJ. I watched him go, because even moving across the room, he pulled my attention.
“All right. Let’s talk.”
I turned, not sure which of the three guys now staring at me had said it, but it looked like they were all on the same page about…whatever this was.
“Should I be worried?” I asked.
“Depends,” Drew said at the same time Hudson answered, “Yes.”
Rome lifted his drink and snorted. “Already off to a great start, guys.”
Hudson stepped forward first, crossing his arms, but it was hard to take him seriously in that oversized jean jacket that looked straight out of a denim commercial. “All right, start talking. Who are you?”
Straight to it. I liked that.
“Beckett Calder. Did you want the blood and urine samples now or later?”
