Page 142 of The Vacation Mix-Up

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“Feelings and shit?”

“Yes, Ben, feelings and shit. So stop being inappropriate toward her.”

He raises his hands. “I’m bowing out, brother. She’s all yours.”

I give his shoulder a patronizing squeeze. “You were never in.”

“Sure I was.”

I shake my head sympathetically.

“I wasn’t?”

“No.”

He slams his glass down. “Ahh, fuck!”

“So, where’s Brittany and Whitney tonight?” I ask, my eyes trained on Riles as she slowly makes her way toward us, her head buried in the song list.

“Don’t know. I think they’ve ditched me. Haven’t seen them since I got back from the basketball game.”

“That reminds me, how was it?”

“We killed ’em.”

“I’m not surprised.”

Riles bumps into a dude and apologizes, his hands lingering on her arm longer than they should.

“Back off, fuckstick!” Ben shouts. “The lady’s with us.”

I choke on my beer.

“I got your back, man. No one touches her but you.”

Jesus!

“So whatcha gonna sing, love?” he asks as she stops at the table.

Sighing, she plonks herself onto a stool. “I don’t know. I’m not drunk enough yet.”

“Then let’s fix that.” Ben snaps his fingers at a waiter.

“Don’t do that,” Riles scolds. “It’s not very nice. And youarenice; I know it in my tummy.”

He grins. “Are you sure you’re not drunk enough?”

She looks at me for an answer. “Am I?”

“What’s the capital of Norway?”

“I don’t know.” She giggles. “I didn’t know the first time.”

Suspecting that was the case, I wrap my arm around her back so she doesn’t topple off the stool.

“What’ll it be?” Ben asks when the waiter arrives.

“Peanut butter,” Riles says.

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