Page 26 of Comeback
“Having fun?” he asks.
“Yes. I am actually. Sorry I ruined your night by tagging along. Actually, no, I’m not sorry. No regrets. Hashtag, living my best life regardless of you being all hot and angry all the time.”
Oops that hot part was an inside thought.
He lifts one brow and regards me with a hint of amusement on his face.
Tripp returns quickly with three new beers and another round of shots.
“I don’t think I can have any more shots.”
“Cheers with us anyways.”
We all take a shot glass and lift it to the center of the table. My fingers holding the glass brush against Archer’s and my skin hums with electricity that I blame on the alcohol.
“What should we drink to?” Tripp asks.
“To a hell of a hangover tomorrow,” Archer says quietly and a little grumpily. How can he be so cranky at a bar?
“To Sabrina.” Tripp looks to me. “We’re glad to be out tonight with you instead of your brother. He’s always talking about love and couple-shit.”
The smallest snort of laughter comes from Archer next to me. His body shakes with the movement and his fingers brush against mine again.
Tripp’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “And because you’re way hotter than your brother.”
A surprised burst of laughter leaves me.
Archer and Tripp move their glasses higher. “To Sabrina.”
I’m the last to bring the shot to my lips. I tip it back and end up drinking the whole thing despite my earlier reservations. Archer was right about the hangover tomorrow. It’s a good thing I have my own room right now. Greer is cute, but I have a feeling tomorrow would be especially brutal with her waking me up at five o’clock in the morning.
Tripp sets his glass down with a thunk and backs away from the table. “I gotta use the bathroom.”
I let out a long breath and try not to sway on my feet.
“You alright?” Archer asks me.
“I think I’ve had about five too many drinks. Standing feels like an Olympic sport.”
He glances to the left and then steps away from me like he’s bored with me or my answer or maybe just doesn’t want to be around me a second longer. What an assho?—
Before I can finish the thought, he’s nodding to the group at the table next to us and taking an empty chair with a quiet thanks. He sets it beside me without a word.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He finally lets his gaze linger on my face.
My skin flushes hotter, but I don’t look away.
“Trying to keep up with Tripp will always end badly. Trust me. I’ve tried.” A hint of a smile accompanies his words of advice.
“I’ll remember that for next time.”
“Okay.” Tripp returns, rubbing his hands together. “Another round?”
“No.” Archer drains the rest of his bottle and sets it on the table. “We’re heading out.”
“But it’s still early,” Tripp whines.
