Page 17 of Love Is Ale You Need

“I told her I don’t have a son or a centaur. Then she released the sweetest laugh,” Miles says.

“I dated a girl who had the best laugh. It was infectious,” Owen’s eyes gloss over as he reminisces.

I roll my eyes. We’re not here to talk about girls and how they sweetly laugh. That’s not the point of SBL. This is the opposite of SBL.

Miles continues, “So I shoved the book back on the shelf and then asked her if she wanted to go to dinner sometime, fully expecting her to tell me no or she has a boyfriend, but she said yes. Now, I don’t know what to do. Where do I take her? What should I wear?”

Darren rubs his chin. “That could be hard. You don’t want to go too extravagant and appear pretentious, but you also don’t want to seem cheap.”

Miles points at Darren. “Exactly. What do I do? I have to let her know by tomorrow.”

“You can take her to Le Uve,” Owen says.

“Isn't that too elegant, though? I was thinking maybe The Lake Café.” Miles presses his lips into a firm line.

“But their menu selection is limited. Do you know if she has any dietary restrictions?” Owen asks.

This is not how guys’ night is supposed to go. I need to step away. “I’ll get drinks.” As I drop the toy hammer, it emits a high-pitched squeak. I’m not even sure if anyone heard me and I don’t care. Somehow our single guys’ meeting has turned into gossip and relationship hour. It’s pretty much the opposite of everything being a single guy entails. Once I’m at the bar, I throw myself onto a stool.

Nora sees me first and nods in my direction as she elbows Rylee. As soon as she lifts her head, our eyes connect. As much as I want to flash her my signature dazzling smile, continue our verbal sparring, and flirt with her until a blush covers her cheeks, I don’t have it in me.

She saunters my way and stops once she’s in front of me. “Why do you look like someone kicked your puppy?”

“They went rogue.”

She grabs a pint glass and pours me an IPA. Once it’s full, she slides it my way. “The Boy Scouts went rogue?”

I swallow a gulp as the hoppy liquid flows down my throat. “I don’t know what happened. One minute I was starting the meeting so we could talk about our run of the mill topics like sports and cars, but then it turned into a Dear Abby column with terrible dating advice.”

“Why does all this guy talk have to be centered around sports and other masculine topics?”

“It’s called Single Bros Life. Emphasis on single. We’re not here for relationships.”

“Is that because the longest relationship you’ve had is with that beer?” She points at the pint glass in front of me.

I bark out a laugh and then lift the glass to my lips for a gulp. “Maybe so, but I’ll also treat this beer like it’s the best damn beer I’ve ever tasted.” I toss her a flirty wink.

She shakes her head, but the corners of her lips tip up into a smile. Quickly, she leans down, so her dark brown hair flows over the side of her face and digs in a cooler so I don’t notice, but I noticed. And hell, I wish I could read her mind right now because if it has anything to do with me and how I’d treat her, I’d gladly show her. In the meantime, I’ll mess with her a little more. I lower my voice so it’s deep and seductive. “Sometimes you need to roll it around on your tongue, so you experience all the different tastes. Depending on the beer, one taste is never enough. Instead, I want to spend alllll night enjoying the taste.”

Her head shoots up, cheeks stained pink, with a can of whip cream in her hand. Her finger slips and presses against the tip, sending a spiraling spray of the fluffy cream hissing into the air.

“Shit,” she mutters as a deeper shade of pink covers her cheeks. “Chad must have forgotten to replace the cap again.”

I bite back a laugh, my mood slightly lighter, as she scrambles to clean up the mess. If I had to guess, my words played a part in the volcanic eruption out of the whip cream can, much like my dick from the night in the parking lot.

After the couple minutes it took for her to wipe off the sticky mess from behind the bar, her gaze connects with mine as she diverts her attention back to me. “So, everyone’s expected to just stay single?”

I shrug. “That’s the plan.”

She leans in, her nose wrinkling in curiosity. “There wasn’t a weird oath like blood brother’s type of thing, was there?”

I huff out a laugh. “It’s not a cult.”

She holds her hands up in defense. “Just checking, because it was kinda teetering on the edge.” She leans against the bar. My gaze lifts to hers. “Look, these guys seem to be your friends, I'm not fully sure why,” the corner of her lips tip up into a playful smile, “but be a friend to them. If they’re seeking advice, give it to them. And the advice can’t be don’t date.”

“That defeats the entire purpose of the group.”

“Sometimes things change.” She shrugs her shoulders.

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