A pretty brunette flashed across the screen. I leaned forward. Her boobs were huge. Okay, not that I was judging by her body—but damn, I could learn to love her, even if—
I shuddered as she started speaking.
Or shrieking. Was that English?
“I want a man who won’t cheat on me!” she yelled.
I flinched.
“This bastard better not kiss any other woman or I’m going to murder him!” She grabbed the camera and looked straight into it. “You hear me? You got that? You keep it in your pants!”
Mighty Max and I winced in unison.
“Yeah.” Jason chuckled. “Good luck with that one. I put crazy next to her name, what’d you put, Max?”
“Jayne.” I shrugged and put a star next to it. “It’s my red word. My trigger word. Almost like a safe word except it reminds me of extreme danger or caution. I also use Grandma as a trigger word though last time I did that Reid pissed his pants, so yeah . . .”
“Clever.” Colton nodded.
Another girl appeared on screen. Her smile was . . . pretty. I shifted a bit in my seat, my pencil hovering over the paper. “Hi, I’m Becca.”
“She’s hot,” Jason interjected. “Is that your pick, Milo?”
“Yup!” She crossed her arms. “And she’s local!”
There was something familiar about her, but I couldn’t quite figure it out. Pretty golden-blond hair, really pretty eyes.
“. . . I’m a student so I work at a local Starbucks and . . .”
With a grimace I imagined a green apron on her and nodded slowly. “Yeah, guys, she’s a no-go.”
“What?” Milo smacked me on the leg. “She’s perfect!”
“Agreed.” Jason pointed. “She’s hot and it’s not the scary type of hot that makes men cover their privates.”
“Oh, she’s hot all right.” I chuckled nervously. “I told her so this morning.”
Milo’s eyes narrowed. “And when you say you told her so, you mean you used one of your really creepy pickup lines and got all up in her business.”
“They aren’t creepy!” I yelled. “I have a seventy percent success rate!”
“And the other thirty percent?” Colt just HAD to ask.
I shrugged. “I’ve been slapped a time or two.”
“He wore a cup for an entire semester because girls were starting to kick his little friend.”
“Not little.” I sent a wink to Milo and blew a kiss.
And received a sucker punch to the gut from Colton.
“Thanks,” I wheezed.
“So.” Milo ignored my inability to breathe. “You used a pickup line and she laughed?”
“Er, sorta.” I wrote “prude” next to her name and tried to change the subject. “Let’s look at the rest of the girls, yeah?”
“What was the pickup line?” Jason asked. “I’m curious now. What do seventy percent of the women out there fall for?”
Yeah, no way in hell was I getting out of this one. “ ‘Hold still.’ ” I coughed and blurted out the rest of the line as fast as I could manage. “ ‘So I can pick you up.’ ”
Jason’s face remained blank. “Pick me up? Pick me up where?”
“You know.” I rolled my eyes. “Pick. You. Up.”
“Dude!” Jason burst out laughing. “You wanted to weigh her?”
“What? Hell, no!”
“She thinks you called her fat.” Milo groaned into her hands.
“HOW does that sound like a fat joke?” I almost snapped my pencil in two and threw it across the room. “I wanted to pick her up, as in pick her up, or like hit on her.”
“Question.” Colt raised his hand. “Would the pickup line be any better if you said, ‘Hold still while I hit on you?’ ”
“That sounds like a domestic violence case to me.” Jason’s tone was serious.
“Whatever. You guys just don’t understand how to hit on a girl.”
The room fell silent.
“Colt?” Jason nodded. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Babe.” Colt turned to Milo. “Sometimes a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”
“I’m lost. Anyone else lost?” I looked at my three friends.
“He needs to know the error of his jackassery.” Jason nodded. “Come on, let him, Milo.”
Grumbling, she folded her hands over her chest. “Fine, but if one bitch cops a feel I’m ripping her hair out.”
“Hot.” I nodded. And ducked as Colt lunged for me again. “I’m still lost, by the way.”
“You’re an ass.”
“Caught that.” I motioned for him to get on with it.
“And you have no idea how to speak to women.”
I smirked. “Dude, if you guys are spending all your time speaking, you’re clearly doing it wrong.”
“Should I slap him?” Colt asked Milo. “Or do you wanna do the honors?”
I stood and moved away from the couch, pencil thrust into the air like a sword.
“I pick the bar.” Jason stood and stretched. “Winner takes all.”
“What are we doing? What are we taking?”
“Out.” Colt puffed out his chest and stood. “May the best pickup line win.”
Backed into a corner. Like a damn rat. “You sure you guys want to go up against me? I mean—do you even know my track record?”
“Yeah, you said seventy percent.” Jason smacked me on the back. “But I’m feeling lucky . . . one hundred percent lucky.”
I scowled. “You don’t stand a chance.”
“Watch. Me.”
CHAPTER FIVE
MAX
I popped my knuckles as we walked into the bar. It was going to be too easy. Poor Jason didn’t stand a chance. The guy was a walking accident. If he wasn’t holding a bag of peas against his balls by the end of the night, well, I’d eat my hat. Of course, I wasn’t wearing a hat, so I’d just have to pretend, but you get what I mean.
Colt on the other hand kept getting glares from Milo, so I knew he wasn’t going to bring his best game.
Leaving me . . . the win.
I know it seems ridiculous—how does a guy pick up so many girls using cheesy lines? Listen up, because what I’m about to give you is the equivalent of free gold, your ride into the promised land, your bread, your butter, your freaking passport into heaven where women always engage in pillow fights and take off their tops. Just. Because. They. Can.
It’s not about the actual pickup line—hell, no. Do I look stupid? It’s in the delivery. Always in the delivery. Girls love a sense of humor; they love a guy confident enough to put his balls against the wall while she holds the only hammer capable of smashing them to tiny bits.
Jason thought it was about the pickup line.
No, my 70 percent success rate had everything to do with how I made the girl feel important.
So basically he was going to look like an ass.
I was so ready for that front-row seat. Hell, where was the popcorn?
“Look, there’s one.” I pointed to a lonesome girl sitting at the bar. She had that slouched, pouty look about her. Her eyes kept darting from her drink to the bartender, then back to her drink, fingernails tapping against the glass in a smooth cadence. By the looks of it, she’d had a really long day and was feeling slightly insecure, and it was possible she had just been stood up.
“Cake.” Jason patted me on the chest twice before walking up to her. I followed him but took a seat a few chairs down. I wanted to actually hear the slap when it happened.
“So.” Jason cleared his throat. “In honor of saving water, from here on out, I think you should just shower with me.” His smile was huge.
The woman, however, looked like she wanted to stab him.
“Ha-ha.” Jason leaned forward. “I’m Jason.” He held out his hand.
She stared at it like he was diseased and then glared.
And that’s my cue. Without wasting any time, I walked up to the girl, put my arm ar
ound her, and said, “Hey baby, is this asshole bothering you?” Jason’s eyes went wide as saucers, and he lunged for me, but Colt held him back and led him away.
“Yeah.” She relaxed beneath my arm. “Thanks.”
Once they were out of earshot, I pulled my arm away and looked at her drink. Scotch, interesting choice. “Hey.” I tapped the bar. “Get the woman a double. She just had a drunk guy with limp dick hit on her.”
Swearing was heard behind me. I had to fight to keep from laughing out loud.
“Thank you.” She exhaled. “I hate creeps.”
“Oh.” I sat on the stool next to her. “Me too. It seems they’re everywhere these days.”
“Yeah.” She leaned against the countertop, her breasts nearly popping out of her white button-up shirt. “So what’s your name?”
“Hmm, right now?” I tucked her hair behind her ear. “Whatever you call me—I think I’ll die happy.”
“Oh.” Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks.
“Hey, man,” Colt said, coming up next to us. “Sorry to interrupt what I’m sure would have been a freakishly interesting conversation about how beautiful this woman is and how much you understand her. Um, but your wife called and she said if you don’t come home in like five minutes she’s setting your bike on fire.” He cringed and looked at the woman. “He got his car taken away last week on account that we’re pretty sure he gave his neighbor herpes.”
Stumbling away from us, the lady swore and stomped off.
“Apparently”—I stole her drink and tossed it back—“we need some ground rules, asshole.”
“Nope.” Colt smirked. “No ground rules, just one-liners. You failed.”
“I’ll do it.” Colt was seriously out of his element if he thought he could land a girl with one pick-up line and not get the crap slapped out of him. “One pick-up line. Where’s Jason?”
Colt pointed at a table full of women. “Hunting.”
“Too bad his spear is limp, huh?” I crossed my arms over my chest and watched as Jason tried to engage the group of women.
They were smiling like they were into it, but he was losing precious time, and a few of them started looking behind him as if they were waiting for someone to rescue them.
I walked up and slunk my arm around his neck. “There you are, gorgeous!” With a smirk I kissed his cheek and blew in his ear.
“What the hell!” Jason pushed me off.
“He’s embarrassed so easily.” I laughed with the women and tickled Jason’s sides. “Come on, lover, you promised to take me to Hunger Games, and daddy’s so, so hungry. Rawr!”
“Aw!” The women sighed all over themselves. “How sweet! How long have you two been together?”
“Too long,” Jason answered just as I said, “Not long enough.”
“Have fun!” One of them winked at me. I winked back. Hell, yeah, if I were gay, she’d make me rethink that decision. I’d be back for her later.
“What the hell, man!” Jason pushed me away when we were back at the bar. “My lines were working!”
Colt came up next to us with Milo. “It was like watching a blind person play Battleship.” He shrugged. “You may as well have been shooting blanks.”
“I do not SHOOT BLANKS!” Jason yelled.
“Could have fooled me,” a female voice said from behind us.
My balls started to tingle. Huh, I knew that voice. I turned around and almost hid behind Milo.
“Jayne!” Jason shrieked.
“Asshole.” Her eyes were cold and lifeless. Well, what did you expect from a vampire who fed on the souls of others? A smile?
“What are you doing here?” Milo, precious little Milo, had a sweet tinge to her voice that sounded genuine. If I spoke to Jayne it would come out more like a snarl and then I’d start chucking garlic at her face while chanting Bible verses.
“Oh.” Jayne tossed her hair.
Every man near me held his breath along with me—you know, just in case she put poison in her hairspray.
“I’m just getting a drink with friends.” Her eyes zeroed in on Jason. Feeling bad for the guy, I stepped closer to him and grabbed his hand.
He actually squeezed it.
Let it be known that when a dude squeezes another dude’s hand, he’s in a bad place. A place where beer doesn’t exist and women want to cuddle after sex and discuss feelings.
“Dude,” I whispered. “Say the word and I’ll kiss you right on the mouth to deter her affections.”
“Thanks, man,” Jason whispered back. “But I can handle this.”
“That’s great.” Milo went to stand in front of us. Great, so now we needed protection from Mighty Mouse. What? Was she going to try to kick Jayne in the shin if things got crazy? On second thought, a catfight would be . . .
Oh, sorry. I think I blacked out for a minute. What was going on?
Milo reached into her purse and pulled out a bag of gummy bears. “Sorry, Jayne, I’m just starving! All those drinks and stuff, you want one?”
Jayne shrugged, took five gummy bears, and tossed them back. “Thanks, Milo, and thanks for listening. You’re so great.”
“What just happened?” I whispered to Jason. “I blacked out.”
“Me too.” Jason’s eyes were glazed over. “But Jayne’s had a rough week at work, Milo was comforting her, and Colton was trying not to gag when Milo gave Jayne a hug.”
“Ha. Dude better disinfect his wife before playtime.” I cringed while Jason gave a little shudder.
“Bye, guys.” Jayne walked off.
Milo’s grin was wider than I’d ever seen it before. Like she could seriously have wrapped that grin around her own head twice.
“Aw, shit.” I pinched my nose. “What did you do?”
“I have no idea what you are referring to.” She put the gummy bears back in her purse.
“I thought you were hungry? Why are you putting the bears away?”
She looked down guiltily at her purse. “I promise I wasn’t actually going go to go through with it!”
“Huh?”
“Drinks.” Jason pushed us all toward the bar. “Go through with what?”
We all sat at the bar and waited for Milo to take a sip of her drink. She winced and then started talking really fast. “Okay, so you have to know I would never, ever have gone through with it. It’s just I heard these gummy bears caused, uh, intestinal issues, and, well, last week Max was being really annoying while watching MasterChef and wouldn’t shut up, so I bought the bears in hopes he’d . . . you know, have to use the bathroom more often than not and leave me in peace!”
“So you thought to poison me!” I yelled.
Milo rolled her eyes. “Please, they’re gummy bears. Hardly arsenic. Besides, we don’t even know if it works that way!”
In that instant a red-faced Jayne came barreling by us and nearly collided with the door to the bar before opening it and running out into the fresh air.
“Hmm.” I scratched my neck. “It’s like bitch repellent. Gimme!” I reached for her purse. “I need those for the show!”
“No!” Milo jerked away from me. “That’s so mean!”
“The kettle and pot are both black, Milo. Just FYI.”
I tried to grab her purse again, but was fought off with her nails. Holy shit, the girl was scrappy.
Finally Colt grabbed her purse and pulled it away from both of us. “It’s like watching first graders fight.”
“Thanks, man.” I tilted my beer toward him.
“So.” Milo’s shoulders sagged. “Should we head back home or—”
“Hell, no!” I ordered another beer. “Not until we have a winner.”
Milo sighed. “Fine, okay. So how about the three of you just use one-liners and whoever gets the best responses in the next, say, fifteen minutes wins? I’ll be the judge? Then can we please go home?”
“Fine,” we grumbled in unison.
“Ready.” Milo held up her hand. “Set. Go!”
I ran full speed like a blind cheetah. Seriously I was that fast. Four women. At a table.
“Hey there, can I have your phone number?” I asked the first cougar.
“Why?” Her penciled brows shot up in disdain.
“Well.” I sighed and leaned over so that our faces almost touched. “I’m going to be in the hospital for a few weeks and I could really use a beautiful lady to talk to while I’m down and out.”
Her face cracked into a smile. “How about I just punch you in the balls right now, since you’re already heading to the hospital?”
I jerked back. “Violent. I could dig that.”
“Go away.”
“Going.” I stepped back and made my way to the next table just as I heard Jason say, “You look like a Smurf. A hot Smurf. All tiny and you’re making my balls—”
“Holy shit.” I laughed aloud. And then heard the familiar sound of a cheek getting slapped followed by the sick feeling in my stomach at the thought of that same female kicking me in the balls.
The next table I walked up to was filled with college students. I knew that only because they were wearing NYU sweatshirts and looked like they would rather study than get drunk. Hmm. Smart ones. I had to be careful lest I find my face drenched in beer.
“Hey, girls.” I waved and shoved my hands in my pockets, then tripped on purpose, nearly landing on the first girl’s lap. “S-sorry.”
“Aww, do you have a stutter?” She asked. Well, that was bold.
“O-only when I’m n-n-n-ne . . .” I looked away. “N-n-nervous.”
“Oh!” She grabbed my hand and pressed it to her chest. Mighty Max did a little happy jump. “You’re just the sweetest!”
“Thank you.” Well, here went nothing. “By the way, my hands are freezing cold, as you can tell, could you warm them for me?”
The smile froze on her face.
Mighty Max stopped rejoicing and took the protective stance.
“Sure.”
“What?” I almost choked on my tongue.
“Yup.” She leaned forward, sliding my palms downward, and then beer went flying in my face. Ah, there it is.
With a nod and a salute I walked off and returned to the bar, where Colt was taking shots like there was going to be a tequila shortage and Jason was alternating between rubbing his jaw and holding ice against it.
The Consequence of Revenge Page 3
