Page 27 of The Little Black Book

“Thank you,” I say.

“No thanks needed. I need some guy time, too, so it worked out perfectly.”

“How did you know Zeke likes golf?” I ask. “I never told you that.”

“Yes, you did.”

“I don’t think so,” I say slowly, racking my brain but coming up empty.

“Four months ago,” he says. “You were at the casino with Ava and Sophie, having a drink at the horseshoe bar. I came over to say hi, and you commented on my tan. I told you I’d played golf the day before, and you mentioned your brother, saying he liked to play, but you’d never been.”

“How do you remember that?” I ask with wide eyes.

I vaguely recall the conversation now that he’s mentioned it. It was a fleeting, unmemorable moment, but Sam seemed to recall every detail.

“I have a good memory,” he says, shrugging.

The others wander back in before I can comment, and Sophie ushers everyone into the living room to play a game. We take our drinks––wine for the ladies, beer for Jared and Sam, and water for Zeke since he’s driving––and head into the spacious room where a large dry erase board is set up on an easel.

“We’re playingPictionary.Guys against the girls,” Sophie announces with a wide grin.

“No fair,” Sam calls out. “I don’t know about Zeke, but I do know Jared and I can’t draw for shit.”

“Suck it up, buttercup,” Sophie says with a grin.

Sam shakes his head and sits on the couch, pulling me down with him. Leaning close, he whispers in my ear.

“You have to help me decipher the chicken scratch I’m sure those two will create.”

“I’m no Benedict Arnold,” I say, pushing my elbow into his gut. “Prepare to get your ass kicked.”

“Come on, Z. Have a heart,” he says mournfully while pressing a hand to his chest.

That’s the first time he’s ever shortened my name out loud, and I barely manage to hide the hitch in my breath at the sound of it. It’s stupid, really, how it affects me. People give each other nicknames. It doesn’t mean anything.

I roll my eyes and shake my head to cover the way my heart pounds, then turn my attention to Sophie as she explains the rules of the game. I assume it’s for Zeke’s benefit, since the rest of us have played together before. And I know for a fact Sam and Jared are better at the game than Sam is letting on.

As the game progresses, I realize two things––Jared is a big, fat cheater, distracting Sophie every time it’s our turn to guess, and Zeke is having a good time.

My brother is smiling as he throws out random guesses and trades barbs with Ava, who’s sitting next to him. She keeps saying random things like “couch potato” and “Empire State Building” to throw him off his game. He’s called her a childish brat and a cheater, and she’s come back with such gems as “stick in the mud” and “ass goblin,” whatever the hell that means. If I didn’t know them both better, I might think they’re flirting in some perverse way. I feel ridiculous even thinking it.

All in all, it’s a fun, relaxing night. And there’s no place I’d rather be, nor any humans that I’d rather bewiththan the ones right here. These are my people, and I adore them all.

Chapter10

Tequila is the Devil

Sam

Iplop down on my couch as I read the text from Abigail confirming that she’s excited to go out with me Friday night. We dated for a hot minute last year, but things fizzled between us after a few dates. I was working, alot, and she was starting up her own business––a flower shop in North Las Vegas. With our busy schedules, we hardly saw each other.

But now, her business is on solid footing, I’m not working as many hours, and we both have more time on our hands. We’ve decided to go dancing, since we talked about doing it last year and never got around to it before losing touch.

Pulling up Zoey’s number, I tap out a text.

Me:Are you free Friday night? I made plans to take Abigail dancing at Zolo’s.

The off-strip nightclub caters to a younger, twenty-something crowd, so I hope Zoey doesn’t balk at going there. Abigail has her heart set on the place for some reason, and I don’t want to disappoint her on our first date. Or, I guess…oursecondfirst date.

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