“What are you two? Her big brothers?”
I feigned a punch and Nash ducked. He caught me with an uppercut to the solar plexus that knocked the breath right out of me. I swung again, glancing a shot off his jaw.
My friend, the goddamn chief of police, grinned wickedly and drew back his arm. I blocked, but not well enough. His blue-collar, law-abiding fist caught me on the bridge of the nose.
“Didn’t hear a crunch,” Knox said.
“I’m holding back, okay?” Nash muttered. He grunted as my left fist connected with his bad shoulder. “Oh, somebody’s here to play dirty,” he teased.
“I’m here to beat some sense into you two. Sloane means nothing to me.”
“Bull. Shit.” Nash punctuated each word with a fast jab. “I saw you climbing out of her bedroom window in high school. I see the way you look at her like she’s the goddamn sun and you’re not supposed to stare directly at her but you can’t help yourself.”
“None of us can, fucking idiot,” Knox added, shoving his brother out of the way and landing a punch to my eye.
“I’m not you. I’m not cut out for a relationship. Especially not one that neither of us wanted in the first fucking place,” I argued.
“Just ’cause you say you don’t want it don’t mean you don’t want it,” Knox said, ducking my fist.
Nash took a swig from a water bottle. “He’s the idiot who fake dated Naomi and then tried to real dump her.”
“Where the hell did you get a bottle of water?” I panted and slapped Knox across the face to change things up.
He was unfazed.
“I’m not in love with her, assholes.” The words tasted strange in my mouth. I chalked it up to blood.
“He’s a delusional idiot,” Stef assessed.
“Agreed,” Nash said, tagging back in.
“I feel sorry for him,” Jeremiah said.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” I asked Stef as he pulled out his phone and started taking pictures.
“Immensely.”
Nash and I continued trading blows in a dignified, well-paced fistfight. It was so dignified that even the patrons just arriving in the parking lot didn’t bother hanging around to watch.
“Evenin’， folks,” Harvey Lithgow, a bear of a man in leather chaps, said as he wandered toward the front.
“Evenin’， Harvey,” we said in unison.
“You’re still holding back,” I complained when Knox jumped in to land a shot to my gut. My entire upper body already felt like I’d been backed over by a truck.
“Yep,” he said easily.
“You keep holding back, I’m gonna take advantage,” I warned, throwing an elbow that caught him squarely on the chin, followed by a shot to the gut.
He spat blood into the gravel and grinned. “Fuck around and find out.”
Melee wasn’t the right word for what proceeded. Without any real hatred driving us, we mostly just used our lifetime of history to sneak past each other’s defenses to land cheap shots.
“You give up yet?” Nash grunted.
We were all on the ground. I had Nash on his knees in a headlock. But he was making an admirable effort to dislocate my pinkie finger. Knox had my left arm pulled behind my back, and I had my foot in his groin.
“Everyone smile and say ‘dumbass,’” Stef said, stepping in front of us. Jeremiah stepped in front of us and flashed a cheesy smile and thumbs-up as his boyfriend snapped another photo.
“Don’t make us beat your ass,” I warned him.
I released Nash, who mercifully let go of my pinkie, and gave Knox a half-assed kick to the thigh. The three of us flopped over in the gravel, bruised and bleeding.
“Sloane is gonna kick your asses for kicking my ass,” I said, snapping my fingers for Stef to throw me my jacket. He hit me in the face with it.
“No fuckin’ way,” Knox said, swiping Nash’s water. “Girl hates your guts. She’ll probably give us trophies.”
I shook my head and produced my cigarette and lighter. “She’ll be pissed you didn’t let her have any of the fun.”
“Why can’t you just take a shot with her?” Nash asked.
I savored the first sweet sting of tobacco, then exhaled toward the night sky. “Because she’s too good for me.”
The brothers guffawed.
“What?” I demanded.
“You think I was good enough for Angelina?” Nash asked with a smirk.
Knox grinned. “I know none of you think I was anywhere near Daisy’s league.”