Page 179 of Fighting Chance

“Wanna talk about it?” Ellington offers.

I slump back in my chair. “Look guys, I appreciate it, and I get it, I’m not as charming and quick-witted as usual.” That earns a round of chuckles. “But I’m fine. Just need a good night’s sleep.”

Grayson’s brow quirks. “A good night’s sleep?”

“Yes, Cap, a good night’s rest.”

“For three weeks?” Valenti says dryly.

Frowning, all I have to do is raise my brow at him. He of all people shouldn’t be pushing me right now. If he wants me to talk about my woman problems, I’ll have no qualms forcing him to do the same.

He just shakes his head, a twitch in his lips.

Yeah, that’s what I thought, fucker.

Now my grin truly is smug.

O’Connor places his beer bottle down on the table. “Well then, I’m off to call Cindy. I miss my girl.”

Grayson slaps down a wad of bills, covering the table. “Same here, boys, I promised Bella I’d FaceTime her.”

Irving’s jaw unhinges. “You are both so pussy whipped.”

“Fuck yeah I am,” Grayson says like it’s a badge of honor.

O’Connor drops down over the back of the booth. “It’s okay, one day you will be loved.” He pulls back with a smirk before Irving can hit him.

“I am loved by many!” Irving calls to his retreating form, genuine indignation in his tone.

Grayson laughs as he comes to a stop beside me. “You good?” he asks quietly.

A measly thumbs-up is all I can muster. “Promise.”

He slaps my shoulder, squeezing. “Call me if you need anything.”

“And interrupt your FaceTime?” I say slowly, knowingly. I can’t help but shudder. “I was already traumatized walking in, I don’t need to interrupt again.”

Grayson’s cheeks flush all the way down to his neck and he’s quick to make a beeline for the exit, mumbling over his own words.

I’m shaking with laughter as we watch our six foot four captain high-tail it out of the bar.

Ellington leans forward. “What the hell did you say to him?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Blowing out a breath, Ellington looks around the bar. “Where the hell did all the bunnies go?”

At that, Irving’s eyes snap open. “What the fuck?”

Johnson’s grinning like the cat who caught the canary. “The rookies beat your senior asses to it.”

“Senior my ass, old man,” Ellington chides. “You’ve got eight years on me. How’s your creaky knees?”

“Eight years of experience in all areas and I’m proud of it.”

“I don’t think the bunnies like your saggy balls,” Irving says earnestly. “It’s why they flock to me.”

“You get my sloppy seconds.”