Roommates Box Set #4-6

23. Kylie

23

KYLIE

“And for you, sir? What can I get you?”

It felt nice to be tending bar again—even if it was a makeshift bar that used to be part of a chemistry laboratory.

“How about a vodka martini?” Jude said, glint in his eye. “Shaken, not stirred.”

“Right away, 007.” I winked at him as he sat on a stool at the other side of the bar, Parker and Mason next to him. I’d have no problem preparing his drink in a shaker because the guys had been busy while I was with Sierra. They’d stocked the kitchenette with pretty much everything I’d need to make mixed drinks including shakers, jiggers, a strainer, and a set of stainless-steel tools no bartender should be without. They’d also added more bottles of tonic, liquors, and syrups to our stash. The only thing they hadn’t done was to get a bunch of glassware. None of us had the time or the desire to clean it, so we’d used an assortment of disposable cups for the drinks I made.

I poured Jude’s martini and threaded three olives on a toothpick. When I handed it over to him, I had the wild urge to lean over the bar and give him a kiss. Needless to say, it wasn’t anything I usually considered part of my bartender duties, but the urge was still there.

The guys had really gone all out fixing things up this weekend. They’d even stopped referring to it as the anthrax bar.

I turned to Mason. “What can I get for you?”

“How come you called him ‘sir’ and not me?” Mason grumbled.

“I tip better,” Jude said, and I laughed. It really felt like all that was missing were some taps and a tip jar. Of course, since they’d bought the supplies, I should probably tip them.

“A beer,” Mason said, and I frowned.

“A beer? That’s no fun to prepare.”

“Sure it is,” he said without missing a beat. “You just turn around, bend over, and get one from the fridge.”

“How is that fun?”

“I get to check out your ass when you bend over.”

“Ah,” Jude said, nodding his head. “Now I see the fun part.”

I rolled my eyes and sidled over to the fridge, pulling out an IPA while trying not to moon anybody.

“Spoilsport,” Mason muttered as I opened the bottle for him. Then I turned to Parker.

“What can I get for you?”

“Surprise me.”

I grinned. “Good answer. See? That’s a lot more fun than just grabbing a beer.”

“Noted,” Mason answered.

I made him an old fashioned. It took a little longer to make, but I enjoyed myself. Bartending was always fun the first hour or so when you got to talk to fairly sober people. It got less so when it was one in the morning and you couldn’t get a drunk to leave, but that didn’t seem like it’d be an issue here.

Finally finishing the drink, I set it on a napkin and slid it over to Parker. “That’s perfect,” he said after trying it.

“We aim to please here at Bar None.”

“That’s not what we’re calling it,” Jude said.

“Bar with a View?” I offered. Because in the daylight, there’d be one hell of a view.

“Let’s keep workshopping it,” Jude said.

I made myself an amaretto sour and for a while we drank in silence. “We need bar snacks. I’ll get them—you three have already spent too much.”

“On a bar we benefit from,” Mason pointed out.

“True. But I’ll get the snacks.” I bit my lower lip, lost in thought for a moment, and then hit them with something I’d been thinking about off and on. “Speaking of bars, I’d like to go back to the other bar, the Drunken Horse.”

“No,” at least two voices said at once, maybe three.

“And it’s the Dancing Horse,” Jude added.

“Right, that’s what I said. I want to go there again.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because it’s where your band plays. And where you guys sometimes hang out.”

“It’s a dump,” Mason said.

“Well, not all bars are like our Mountain View Bar.” I ran my hand fondly along the countertop.

“That’s not the right name either,” Parker said. “Why do you want to go back to the Dancing Horse?”

“I just do.” I sighed. “I don’t want it to become a big thing, like if I avoid it for the rest of my life just because one shitty thing happened one time. It’s like riding a horse. If you fall off, you get back on.”

“You didn’t fall, you were pushed,” Mason growled, shaking his head. “So, you’re saying you want to climb back on the—er—dancing horse?”

“Exactly.”

“No,” Jude said.

“Yes,” I said. “What are you going to do, tell the bouncer not to admit me?”

“Now there’s an idea,” he said.

“The bouncer was nowhere to be found when we needed him before,” Parker said.

Inspiration struck as I took a sip of my drink. “How about we go on a night when Jude’s not playing? That way we can all sit together. Besides, you guys said it was calmer on weeknights, right?”

“Maybe,” Jude conceded.

“We’ll go on Wednesday,” Mason decided. “It’s hump day after all.”

Grinning, I looked at Parker, who nodded. Then Jude. He didn’t look happy about it, but he finally nodded, too.

“It’s not so bad,” I said Wednesday evening, looking around the far less crowded main room of the Dancing Horse.

“Yeah,” Mason agreed. “As long as you discount the stale air, the watery drinks, and the crappy canned music.”

We’d each gotten a drink and a tray of appetizers to share. I spotted a drink on the menu I’d never made before, so I was eager to see what it was like. However, when it came, it was pretty obvious the bartender, a gray-haired man in his fifties, had never made it before, either.

Still, it was fun to hang with the guys. Parker seemed slightly less glum this week, and he’d even scheduled a video meeting for the people in the cohort. My classmate, Paige, had expressed her astonishment in class today.

After an hour or so, a tiny woman who had to be nearing eighty, came over to chat. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight,” she told Jude. She looked a bit old to be one of the female fans who threw themselves at him.

“Just drinking with my friends.” He took her hand and squeezed it. “This is Delores, she owns the place.”

We exchanged greetings.

“My husband and I opened it nearly fifty years ago, can you believe that?” Delores said in a quavering voice. “But then he went and died on me, and now I run the place by myself.”

That explained a lot.

“How are the drinks and the apps?” she asked, eyeing our table.

“Good,” we lied.

“I bet they’d be even better on the house,” she said with a cackle. Then she nudged Jude with a bony elbow. “No charge if you go up there and play a few songs.”

Jude gave her a gentle smile. “I’m off the clock.”

“Come on, just a couple.” She turned to point to the back corner of the room and had to grab onto Mason’s broad shoulder to maintain her balance. “Some of the regulars recognized you and asked if you’d play.”

“He didn’t bring any instruments,” I said, trying to get Jude off the hook.

Dolores squinted at me. “You’re a pretty one. Tiny, though. But there’s a guitar in the back room and he knows it.”

After a few more minutes, Jude gave in. Delores cackled with delight, telling the bartender to get us a round of drinks.

In the meantime, Jude did something with the sound system up by the stage and dragged a microphone out to the center of the stage. He sat on a stool and started strumming the guitar.

A thrill rushed through me as he sang. I’d had a feeling he’d be a good singer, and he was. Very good. His singing voice was low and mellow, just like his speaking voice. Was there anything he couldn’t do, musically speaking?

I forgot about my drink and my food as I watched.

Mason leaned over and whispered in my ear. “You look like you want to lap him up.”

I grinned. “Maybe.”

“Well, just keep in mind he’s not your only option.”

Before I processed it, Mason straightened up and grabbed a potato skin, shoving it in his mouth.

Jude sang five songs and got an impressive round of applause afterwards. People wanted an encore, but he waved them off and attended to the sound system before rejoining us.

“That was wonderful,” I said when he got back to the table.

He smiled. “Glad you thought so.”

“This is fun,” I said. Not that Delores ran a tight ship, but it was nice being out with the guys. “We should go out more often.”

“We don’t need to now that we’ve got our own bar,” Parker said.

“Yeah, but it’s still fun to get out sometimes.”

Jude nudged Mason. “Did you ask her yet?”

“Ask me what?”

“There’s a party Friday night,” Mason began. “A buddy of mine who lives off campus is throwing it. Since you’re so eager to get out more, would you like to go?”

“Sure.”

Jude started to say something, but this time Mason nudged him.

“Should we head back?” Parker asked.

Mason nodded. “Guess there’s no need to settle the bill,” he said, clapping Jude on the back.

“But we should tip the waitstaff,” I said rapidly. “And the bartender.” None of the service had been stellar, but I knew how little they likely made.

“Right,” Jude agreed. He, Mason, and Parker took out their wallets, but when I reached for my purse, Jude put his hand on mine. “We’ve got this.”

“No, I want to?—”

“We’ve got this,” Mason said firmly. I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat. It was true I didn’t have a lot of spare cash, but I didn’t want them to think I wouldn’t pay my own way.

But then Parker simplified it. “You mix the drinks when we’re back at the suite. We pay for them when we’re out and about.”

“Thanks.” His explanation made me feel better.

Mason drove us back in his Jeep. He and Parker sat up front while Jude sat in the back with me.

The stars shone vividly when Mason parked outside of Henderson. I opened my door, but Jude reached across me, stilling my hand. “Wait a moment,” he said. No one else got out either, so I wondered what was up.

“We’d like to take you to the party on Friday,” Mason said.

“Yes, I know. I said I’d go.” Hadn’t we already covered this?

“No, that’s not what I mean. We want to take you there as our date.”

It took me a moment to wrap my head around that. “All three of you?”

“Yes,” he said, and Jude and Parker nodded.

“But how would that work?”

“Just like any other date,” Jude said. “Except there will be three of us with you. We’ll be discreet, of course. Not flaunting anything in front of the others. But we’ll know—the four of us will know—it’s a date.”

Wow. The idea excited me and judging by the way my pulse sped up, my hormones approved. My mind, however, was still coming up with obstacles. “Are you guys okay with that?”

“We wouldn’t have asked you if we weren’t,” Parker said.

I took a deep breath. “Okay, then. I’d love to be your date.”

Jude grinned, and Parker looked pleased—but still, no one got out of the car.

“What?”

“There’s something else,” Mason said, adjusting the rear view mirror to see me better. It felt like his cool blue eyes pinned me to my seat. “About the party.”

“What is it?” I said, somewhat nervously. “Do you want me to date the whole football team as well?”

“No,” Jude said. “We want you to think carefully about what you wear.”

I was still confused. “Well, of course. It’s a party. Don’t worry, I’ll wear something nice.”

“That’s not what we mean,” Mason said. His voice was low and somehow dangerous. “If you wear jeans or pants, then we’ll all have a nice time. We’ll drink. We’ll dance. We’ll have fun. But if you wear a skirt… Well, that’s a signal to us that you’re interested in something more than a nice time at the party.”

My breathing sped up as I tried to think. “Something more?”

“Something naughty,” Jude clarified, giving me a sexy wink. “Like the kind of things we talk about at night.”

“Whoa, wait.” We’d talked about some pretty explicit things.

Mason seemed to sense my panic, and that time, he turned in his seat to look directly at me. “As Jude said, we’ll be discreet. But if you chose to wear a skirt, I’d say it’s a pretty safe bet that at some point at the party, there’ll be a pair of hands touching you under it.”

“A pair, or more,” Parker added.

Mason gave me an evil grin, making my nipples harden. “So that’s why we want you to think carefully about what you’re going to wear.”

My thighs clenched as my roommates finally opened the car doors to get out. I most certainly would think about what to wear on Friday. I doubt I’d be able to think about anything else until then.