Chapter 5
T he only problem with having so much choice, Will decided as he sat on a stool at the bar his brother Aubrey owned, was having to choose. Not that he wasn't going to eat all the goodies that Aubrey had made for him, but which one to have first needed some serious consideration.
Food was serious business.
If he ate the mini quiches first, the cheese and egg would hit his stomach first, and then the spring rolls and sweet-soy-sauce dip second would help soak it up. But the little crispy-cream potato bites would make a good stomach liner before he had the mini quiches. But—
“What are you doing?” Aubrey asked, startling him.
He wasn’t as tall as Will—no one in their family was anywhere near it, and they still couldn’t work out where on the family tree his height had come from—but it didn’t stop Aubrey from being intimidating.
Even the green streaks in his short brown hair didn’t take away the “big brother look” effect.
Those glass-brown eyes could still make Will want to apologise and offer himself as tribute for whatever chores were left on their chores board at home.
It didn’t matter that it had been almost ten years since Will had moved out of that home.
Will almost flung one of the plates to the floor in surprise.
Aubrey's bar might be clean, all hardwood floors and gorgeous jarrah on the bar itself with stainless-steel fixtures, but he still wasn't eating anything off the floor. There were mirrors behind the bar, so someone was always watching, and wasting food was a crime. Will was a police officer; he couldn’t commit crimes.
“Choosing what to eat.”
“Just close your eyes and stab with your fork,” Aubrey suggested dryly. “Whatever it lands on you eat first.”
“Okay, I like that,” Will decided. That was a most excellent idea.
“Do you have enough food, do you think?” Aubrey asked, eyeing it all.
Will lifted his shirt and slapped his hard abs. “I need fuel,” he said.
Peyton winked at him as he passed by with a crate of glasses. “He needs all the energy.”
“You two are disgusting.”
“I think you mean amazing,” Will said. “Hey, where's my drink? The service around here is really going downhill.”
“Little brothers wait their turn,” Aubrey said, walking away.
“Little brothers are thirsty,” Will called after him.
Peyton stopped in front of him. “I'll trade you a drink for one of those quiches.”
“I'm paying for the drink,” Will said. “Payment demands service.”
Peyton smirked. “Offer still stands.”
“Fine. One.”
Peyton immediately popped one into his mouth and then did the age-old mouth-open blowing technique once he realised it was still piping hot.
Will laughed. “Serves you right, quiche thief.”
Peyton flipped him off. “What do you want?”
“Long Island iced tea.”
“Is someone taking you home?” Peyton asked.
“I resent the implication that you think I'll need that. But for your information, you're taking me home.”
“I don't finish till one. A.m., in case that wasn't clear,” Peyton said. He did start on Will's drink, though.
“Since it's like eight thirty in the evening, I can do the math, genius.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I'll call Quinn. Is he still working?”
“Did you already forget what time it is?”
“He's a workaholic. He could totally still be working.”
“Call him and ask, then?”
“Drink first.”
“Call first.”
Will rolled his eyes with excessive exaggeration as he pulled out his phone and waved it in front of himself. “Okay. Calling.”
“Do you even need alcohol, you child?”
“You serve children here?” Will said cheekily as he found Quinn in his contacts and pressed Call.
“Cute.”
“I am cute,” Will said at the same time that Quinn answered.
There was a pregnant pause. “Yes, Will, you're very cute,” Quinn said, sounding confused. “Is that why you called me? You needed confirmation?”
“No, I was talking to Peyton.”
“That doesn't make this any less confusing,” Quinn said.
“I'm about to drink, and Peyton wants to make sure I have a lift home because he doesn't finish work until one. A.m., in case that wasn't clear.”
“You're such a smartass,” Peyton said. “Give me the phone.”
Will twisted out of his reach. “Excuse me. Quinn and I are speaking.”
“I'm assuming you're asking me for a lift?”
“No, I just called because I wanted to let you know that Peyton and I are having this conversation.”
“I appreciate being kept in the loop.”
“I am helpful,” Will sung happily. Peyton slid his drink over, and Will happily sucked down half of it in one go with the straw.
“What time do you want me to come get you?” Quinn asked, amusement evident in his voice.
“I have a buffet of food to eat and am planning to drink at least four more glasses of this sweet deliciousness. Two hours?”
“Are you at Aubrey's?”
Aubrey chose that moment to walk behind Peyton, and Will loudly said, “Aubrey would be upset if I ate food and drank at a different bar.”
“Aubrey would throw a party,” Aubrey shot back.
“Ten thirty,” Quinn said. “I'll be there.”
“Beaut.” Will finished the rest of his drink and smiled as his head swam a little.
Fuck, he loved these drinks. Who needed any other kind of alcohol?
They didn't. Okay, the whiskey that Peyton liked to order when they went clubbing was pretty good, but this was still better.
There was a list, and Long Island iced tea was at the top.
“May I speak to Peyton for a second, Will?”
Will handed the phone over without a word as he wriggled his fingers and tried to decide which food to eat first.
He heard Peyton say, “He's only just had his first if you can believe it. The height is deceiving; he's a lightweight.”
He picked up his fork and dug into the crispy-cream potatoes first. He tapped his finger on the glass, hoping Peyton would get the hint.
Peyton crammed the phone between his ear and shoulder as he made Will another drink.
“You're lucky it's quiet tonight,” Aubrey said, settling in beside Peyton. “Is that Quinn? Tell him that Grady needs to come and pay his tab.”
“Get your own phone call,” Peyton said.
“What is this, prison?” Aubrey muttered.
“Do they have these in prison?” Will asked, picking up a quiche. He didn't think so. No one made quiche like Aubrey did. He'd learned the recipe from their mum, and she was magic.
“I bet they'd make them for you in prison. Just flash those gorgeous eyes at them.” Peyton paused. “No, not you. Will.”
Will ate two quiches, a spring roll, and another few potato bites, and then downed half of his next drink.
“Maybe you should slow down a little?” Aubrey said. “Don't you have work tomorrow?”
“I can handle my alcohol just fine,” Will said. “Don't you have bartending to do?”
“Making sure my brother doesn't give himself alcohol poisoning is more important.”
“See all this food? It will soak it up, and everything will be fine.” He bit off half a quiche. “Can I tell you something, though?”
Will leaned forward conspiratorially. Peyton was squinting at him like he wasn't sure if he should tape his mouth shut, which was rude because everything Will had to say was pure fucking gold.
“We have had so much sex with people in the last three days, Aubs, seriously, you have no idea,” he whispered loudly.
Pure gold.
“Okay,” Peyton said even more loudly, “I think that's enough for you.”
Will frowned when Peyton took away his glass. Excuse him. He hadn't finished that.
Aubrey lifted an eyebrow. “Are you pimping out my brother, Peyton?”
The red that was spreading across Peyton's cheeks was adorable, and Will wanted to lean over and pinch them. So he did because long arms were good for so many things. He leaned over the counter and reached out with his hand, making grabby motions.
“Will, cut that out,” Peyton said, trapping Will's hand in one of his own. “I'll see you later, Quinn.” He hung up and put the phone on the counter. “Keep eating,” he told Will. “Maybe I'll think about still serving you in half an hour.”
“I am not drunk. You cannot refuse me service.”
“We can do whatever we want,” Aubrey said. “Tell me about this sex.”
“Well, first off—” Peyton jerked forward and put a hand over Will's mouth.
“I don't think your brother wants to know what we do when we go clubbing, okay?”
“We didn't pick Quinn up at a club,” Will said, his voice muffled.
“Did he just say Quinn?”
“All consensual,” Peyton said. “All none of your business. Will, eat your food.”
Will settled back into his seat with a grumble. He was only agreeing because he was still hungry, and it would go cold if he didn't finish it.
Aubrey scratched his eyebrow. “Fine. As long as you're being safe, I don't want to know. I'm gonna go... scrub the floors,” he muttered, disappearing.
Will tilted his head, looking at the floor. “Do they need cleaning?” he wondered aloud. “Can I have my drink back, please?”
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
Peyton shook his head. “I'm not telling you; it will only make it worse. Here.” He gave Will his drink back, and Will made sure to drink it slower if only to stop the nagging.
“Hey, so,” Will said, fiddling with his straw. “Quinn and Seb really dated?”
“A million years ago, yeah.”
“How come they're not still dating?”
“Quinn didn't really want to talk about it.”
“Do you think it was dramatic?” Will’s eyes widened. “Do you think they had a domestic in court?”
“I... can't see either of them being that unprofessional.”
“ Now, but I bet a million years ago, they weren't so composed. They were more like...”
“Us?” Peyton asked in amusement. “You're almost thirty.”
“Don't say such filth,” Will said. “That's two whole years away. Don't age me, Peyton, it's rude.”
“Sorry.”
“Thank you. Anyway, I bet it was hot. Seb is all...” Will made a wriggling-worm motion with his hand. “And Quinn is all...” He made the same motion. “You know?”
“Yes, Will, that was completely coherent and not at all confusing in any way,” Peyton said.
Will grinned. “Awesome. Do you think they still want to bang?”