Page 74 of Hard Hitter
“My next ploy will be Jimbo’s birthstone thing,” he said, sipping his margarita. “Found something, but it took a while. There is some fugly jewelry in the world.”
“Next time, ask a chick where to shop,” Castro suggested. “Who has nice taste? Georgia, of course, but she doesn’t seem like a shopper. Rebecca, maybe. Or—I know—ask Ari.”
Oh, Christ.
“Or how about Lauren?” Leo suggested. “She’s always dressed to kill.”
“With Lauren, that’s not a metaphor,” Castro said. “Say the wrong thing to that chick and she’ll cut your ballsright off. No sense of humor on that girl.”
Nobody else in the room was willing to touch that, even if Castro was right. The veterans understood that Lauren had her reasons. “Hey,” O’Doul muttered, moving around the sofa to try to find a place to sit. “Castro, I need that ottoman.”
“My feet need this ottoman.”
“It’s either that or we’re snuggling together on your part of the couch.”
Castro sighed and removed his big feet from the footstool. “Take it. I don’t want a love triangle with your lady friend.”
“What a gentleman.” He sat down to watch Louisville win the basketball game.
***
Two hours later O’Doul paused in front of his apartment door. He heard female laughter coming from inside.
“That is bullshit,” Georgia giggled. “Matt Damon is so much hotter than Ben Affleck.”
“He can’t pull off a beard, though,” Ariana argued. “Admit it.”
“Or a ponytail,” Becca added.
He shook out his keys and let himself into the apartment. “Hi, ladies. Miss me?”
All three of them were stretched out on his rug, throw pillows under their heads, looking up at the TV. The coffee table had been moved aside. Their bare feet were pointing straight up, and there was... paper towel? Something white was strung between their toes. It was the weirdest thing he’d ever seen.
“Hey.” Ari sat up fast. “Whoa.” She seemed to sway, though she wasn’t even standing up. “Wow. We had a lot of tequila.”
“Indeed!” Becca sat up, too. “Ran out of margarita mix. Had to do some shots.”
O’Doul bit down on his lip to keep from laughing. “And how’d that go?”
“Pretty good!” Georgia slurred from her cushion. “But I can’t really feel my face right now.”
“Is that right?” he asked as laughter threatened again. There were three women on his floor, and they werewasted.
“I think I can get up by myself. Let’s give it a try.” She rolled over and got to her hands and knees. “So far, so good.”
Becca stood up, then leaned over Georgia. She seemed to be faring the best of any of them. “Come on, babe. Let’s pour you back into your own apartment.”
“M’kay.” Georgia staggered to her feet.
“Come over here and hold onto the door while I get my stuff,” Becca coached, leading her friend toward the door.
“I can walk her home,” O’Doul suggested. “And you, too.”
“We’re fine!” Becca said cheerfully. She tripped over the edge of the rug, though. “Whoops!”
“Don’t worry about the...” Ari made a sloppy waving motion at the crumb-covered plate and the margarita glasses. “I got those.”
A couple of minutes later Georgia and Becca were on their way. O’Doul watched Becca walk Georgia down the hall toward her own door. They seemed fine, so he locked his door and turned his attention to Ari.
