Page 38 of Through the Flames
“Darlin’, this is a college campus,” Dom drawled, flopping onto the couch, the frame creaking under his weight. “Also, of course we should. This is huge! Don’t downplay it.”
She shot me a look that clearly said, ‘Back me up here,’ but I just snickered.
“Shouldn’t have married into the family. The Kincaids celebrate each other’s achievements.”
“We arenotmarried!” She threw her arms in the air, all fired up.
“Yet,” Dom and I said in unison.
“I hate both of you.”
“Sure you do,” Dom said patronizingly.
“Okay, so back to the actual topic. Where are we going?” My eyes pinged from Dom to Sierra, eyebrows raised expectantly. “Oh, I know! How about that Armadillo something bar? Or was it a raccoon?”
Sierra snorted. “Do you mean theNeon Possum?”
I pointed at her. “Yes! That one.”
“I’m in. I like that place,” my brother smirked, his heated gaze fixed on his girlfriend, whose cheeks flushed in turn.
“Right, I’m still here. Sooooo, if we could keep whatever it is you guys are thinking about contained until I’ve left the room, please and thank you.”
“Sorry.” Sierra pursed her lips, her eyes flicking away for a beat. “It’s the place where we met, that’s all.”
“Oh, right. I totally forgot. Sounds like it’s decided, then.”
“Let’s do it!” Dom sprang to his feet, making for the door already, while we hadn’t moved an inch.
“Yeahhh, I’m not going out like this.” Sierra said dryly, while I nodded in agreement. “Sit back down, babe. This could take a minute.”
“Oh.”
“Still the brains of the operation, I see,” I quipped, earning a dark look from him.
***
“Still can’t believe you got a fake ID this good in some backwater town in Georgia,” Sierra mused, shaking her head as we settled into a booth.
Dom shrugged, and I added, “He’s six-five with a linebacker neck. No one’s questioning shit.”
She would probably not believe me when I told her it was little old Mrs. Bingham, who used to run the local DMV back home, who was responsible for this. She enjoyed causing mayhem in her retirement.
Who wouldn’t want a little corruption with their sweet tea?
The bar was packed, the air feeling sticky and warm with beer breath and body heat.
Music thumped overhead — something bassy and vaguely nostalgic — making me swing my hips from side to side as we wound our way through the throng of buzzed students.
We probably wouldn’t have even been able to snag a table if it hadn’t been for Dom.
Football players were always a big deal in the South.Make it make sense. As an athlete myself, I was only slightly bitter about this.
At the very least, it’d gotten us somewhere to sit.
Sierra was clearly unimpressed with the crowd. Aside from sorority events, I was almost certain that she’d never partied on a school night before.
I, on the other hand, was scanning the crowd, fully engaged in people-watching. It was honestly one of my favorite pastimes.
