Page 33 of Backed By You
A few hours later, and one too many beers, Rhett takes the stool beside mine. “You gonna tell me what happened with the pretty neighbor, or am I gonna have to guess?”
I stare straight ahead, jaw tight. “Nothing to tell.”
“That bad, huh?” He chuckles. “Well, the night is young, brother. Plenty of distractions here.”
As if on cue, a group of women enter the bar, drawing appreciative glances from the single men in our crowd. I keep my gaze averted and grip my beer tightly. A lame attempt to focus on the celebration, on anything but the jump in my leg that’s urging me to leave and get the answer to the one question that’s plaguing my mind:Does she feel the same pull I do?
What the hell is wrong with me? I sound like a fucking sad sap, pining over some chick.
“What’s on your mind?” Rhett asks, pulling me from my thoughts as he takes the high-top seat beside me.
I shake my head and busy myself with a swig of beer. “Nothing.”
“Doesn’t seem like nothin’. You’ve got that same look you had when Tracy Wilks started flirting with Duke back in grade school. There’s something on your mind. Spit it out.”
I wouldn’t normally ask one of my brothers for dating advice, but out of all of them, I know I can talk to Rhett without fear of judgment. And after three beers and two shots, I may convince myself it’s a good idea. “Do you think I’m…easy to read?”
Rhett tips his beer from side to side, eyeing me curiously. “Why do you ask?”
I cross my arms and lean against the back of my chair. “Callie said—”
“Ohhh, I see.” My brother chuckles. “Lady troubles?”
I huff. “Not really a trouble.”
“It’s like that, huh?” He smiles, gesturing as if telling me to continue. “Go on. Let’s hear the details of how fucked you are for this girl.”
My scoff turns to laughter at the truth behind the statement. I tell him the truth about where I slept last night—avoiding the breaking and entering a few nights prior—and why I was late tonight.
Rhett shakes his head. “Dating is…fucking hard, man,” he says, drinking the last of his beer. “It’s not the same. There are apps and services and social media. You walk up to a girl at a gas station to hit on her and she thinks she’s about to be kidnapped.”
“Amen to that,” Levi chimes in, staggering over to the table. “It’s a war zone out there, bro. A war we ain’t gonna win.”
Rhett rolls his eyes. “Shut up, man. Just because you keep getting shot down for the long term doesn’t mean Beau doesn’t have a chance.”
Levi snarls at our brother.
“I get it,” I say, interrupting whatever bickering match they’re about to start on.
“Ah, ah, ah!” Stan whistles, catching the group’s attention. He points between Butch and Duke who are simultaneously on their phones and texting. “No checking on wives during bro night.”
“The girls need more tequila,” Butch says, his gaze shifting to Duke. “Cassidy asked if we could swing by the cabin on our way back.”
Duke nods. “Maci forgot her breast pump. You ready now?”
“Cabin?” Stan asks, interrupting their conversation.
“The girls decided to do a bachelorette party at Beau’s rental,” Duke tells him.
“Alison says it’s not a real bachelorette if there aren’t strippers, so it’s just a girls’ night,” Tanner, another one of Butch’s friends, chimes in.
Butch glares at him. “There better not be any strippers showing up.”
Rhett claps me on the shoulder. “You know, Cassidy mentioned something about inviting Callie.”
My beer freezes halfway to my lips. “She invited Callie?” Then therereallybetter not be any fucking male strippers over there.
Butch scrolls through his phone. “Yeah, Cass says she knocked on her door earlier but got no answer.”
