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“Ow! I know. Jesus.” I rubbed the spot, then dragged my hand down my face. “I’m not going to do anything about it, okay?”

“I never woulda thought you’d have a hard time keepin’ your shit together over someone else’s woman.” The words were harsh; his voice wasn’t.

“She’s not his woman. Not really.”

His eyebrows shot up, eyes going wide as he turned to me. I kept my gaze forward, watching her dance. “I said I’m not doing anything about it, Christian. I’m an idiot, not an asshole… Usually.”

“Ay,” he said. “I don’t love that ‘usually’, Hawk.”

19

Lavender

Boston, MA

Will

Her bare toes were holding onto the edge of the stool between my legs, and her dress had slid up and pooled around her lap. It would be indecent, except Louisa was apparently wearing little workout shorts under her dress. “In case I fall down the stairs or something,” she’d said when I’d snapped them against her thigh in question, as if that was a normal thing women planned around.

Now that I knew, I could see the slight indentation where the waistband pinched low on her hips. That was an understatement. I couldn’t just see it, I was fucking fixated on it. I wanted to put my mouth there and pull her shorts off with my teeth.

Would it be like this forever? Me finding stupid shit about Louisa to drool over? I hoped not.

She was telling a story, leaning back against her chair and wearing her coat backwards like a Snuggie. She gestured wildly with one hand while holding a cigar protectively in the other. Her face was so expressive. When I covered her toes with my hand to warm them, she locked eyes with me—scrunched her nose just slightly, corner of her mouth ticking up—without interrupting her anecdote.

We were outside on the patio under heat lamps, surrounded by smoke and drunk as fuck. My entire body was misbehaving.

Lou’s story never actually ended—it just slowly descended into breathless laughter and those high-pitched attempts to talk through it when you’re doubled over, everyone laughing hard. I hadn’t been listening, but sis was funny as fuck, so I wasn’t shocked she’d brought down the house—and I couldn’t help but laugh along with them.

Her eyes were still glittering a few minutes later. She puffed on her cigar, looking pleased with herself. I skimmed my hand up her smooth calf and gave it a quick squeeze. Her breath hitched, visible in the smoke she exhaled, and I let my hand settle around her ankle. By the time the smoke curled away from her face, something had shifted.

She smiled around her cigar, looking me up and down with hooded eyes. I moved her legs to one side and slowly dragged her stool up close to mine.

“Smells like bad decisions over here, Hawkeye,” she said. I chuckled low.

It was cute how excited she was to call me that, ever since Brooks dubbed her worthy and knighted her with a butter knife earlier. No one actually calls me fucking ‘Hawkeye’, but she’d been working it into every sentence just to piss me off.

“Brat,” I said. She handed me her cigar to share and leaned closer.

“I think we should head to Eilidh’s before we end up ‘toasting to hard fought battles’ in the handicap stall… Hawkeye.” My eyes wandered all over her. One of her best euphemisms to date. She was breathing as if she were thinking about it.

Speaking around the cigar between my teeth, I said, “I think you’re right.” I covered her face with my hand and pushed her away playfully.

She laughed and hopped off her stool—very controlled for how much I thought she’d been drinking tonight—and slipped her feet into her shoes. As she bent over to buckle the straps, the back of her dress gaped just slightly, and my brain ran through about ten different ways to take advantage of it before she straightened again.

She was taking her sweet time with goodbyes, and I was staring at her back, a man on the edge. We’re done! I zipped up her coat from behind, pulled the hood over her face, and hoisted her over my shoulder, while she squealed.

“Time for the ropes!”

Eilidh Swan was precisely the woman I imagine Lou would naturally evolve into if left entirely to her own devices. They were birds of a feather, and she welcomed Louisa with open arms.

“Isa! Girl! When are you coming back to work for me?”

Ortiz’s eyes snapped to the side of my head and stayed there, but I didn’t look up.

“Never. The old bitch who owns the place paid me in coupons, and the pint glasses were never clean,” Louisa said, giving her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. “Is Mike here tonight?”

I clenched my jaw. Mike annoyed the shit out of me.