Chapter 10
Damon
The Stag Pub was hopping for a Wednesday night, when I’d casually strong-armed—er, invited—a few of my friends to meet for drinks. That it happened to be the same night as Maverick’s next date was purely coincidence.
Besides, I wasn’t the only one peeping on this show.
Iola and her Mama Mafia were at a table right in the center of the room, a pitcher of some Granny Tea already half gone.
The name Granny Tea sounds all sweet and shit, but that stuff was toxic.
Maude Pike, owner of the pub and creator of the foul-assed drink, had joined them tonight, her raspy smoker’s laugh echoing loudly.
I was a little jealous of the Mamas, actually, because they had a much better view than me.
Neil, Lyle, Truman, Hammy, and I crowded around a table in the back corner next to the men’s john. Not the most desirable location on any night, but particularly bad on trivia night since our view of the screens was shit.
Good thing we weren’t here to play.
“Why are we here on trivia night?” Neil complained. “It’s always so busy.”
“I needed to get out,” I said. “Lyle’s been riding our asses too hard.”
Truman grinned. “Aw, but I love it when he rides my ass.”
A groan went around the table, interspersed with Neil’s hyena-sounding laughter.
Lyle shook his head with a fond smile. “You walked right into that one.”
“I always forget Tru’s devious nature. He looks so sweet and innocent.”
“That’s how we reel you in,” Truman joked. “Like the poisonous tree frog, my brilliant colors attract predators and then I pounce!”
“With inappropriate sexual innuendo,” Lyle added. “Not quite as effective as venom.”
Truman leaned in, hugging Lyle’s arm and batting his lashes. “Luckily, I’ve got a big, strong man to protect me.”
Lyle straight-up blushed, which cracked the rest of us up all over again.
Hammy stood. “I’ll get the first round.”
“Thanks, man!”
The bar was a revolving door of traffic as folks got impatient and ordered drinks directly instead of waiting for a server to come by. But Hamilton was a big guy, and the crowd parted for him as if he was Moses or some shit.
He was super nice, though, and would probably wait an hour without a single complaint.
“So, are you guys almost done with this development?” Neil asked. “It’s looking pretty awesome.”
“Almost there,” Lyle said with a sigh that suggested he was as worn out as the rest of the crew. “But we’re expanding on the original plans, so we’ll have another phase starting next week. We need to wrap this up or we’ll get behind schedule.” He frowned. “Am I really riding you guys too hard?”
“There it is again,” Truman said. “Should I be jealous right now?”
I chuckled. “You definitely shouldn’t be jealous. And no, Lyle, you’re just doing your job. We all know that.”
“Okay,” Lyle said. “I know the change in plans has pushed us a little.”
“It’s manageable,” I said, feeling a little guilty for making him worry. “And that’s not really why I wanted to come out. I was just giving you shit.”
“So, why did you?” Neil asked.
“Does a guy need a reason to have a few beers with his friends?” I asked.
“You were pretty insistent about coming tonight specifically, though,” Neil pointed out.
I shot him a look. “I figured your wife would finally let you out of the house. You got grounded the last time you went out on a Friday.”
“Oh, come on, that was one time,” Neil protested as the guys laughed. “I was hung over for her best friend’s birthday brunch—”
“And you puked into a planter by the hostess stand,” Hammy added as he returned to the table with a pitcher and a stack of pint glasses.
“Better than all over the table!” Neil cried out.
“Oh my god,” Truman gasped between laughs. “Did they throw you out?”
Neil groaned and launched into the full story for Truman and Lyle’s benefit.
He was already good friends with Hamilton back when it happened, so he’d heard all the nitty-gritty before.
Normally, I loved a good retelling of the train wreck that was that morning.
I’d never seen my sister so pissed, and Neil had been in the doghouse for months.
I was pretty much happy whenever I wasn’t the one in trouble, and by now enough time had gone by that it was just a hilarious story instead of a reason for any real contention.
Neil grew up a lot in their first year of marriage. Now he was all responsible and shit.
But my attention drifted as he rehashed the details once more.
The door swung open and Maverick stepped inside. His pink hair was instantly recognizable from a distance. He looked nice, but then, he pretty much always did. He wore a teal floral-patterned button-down open over a white tank top and dark, floaty pants that only came to mid-calf.
I lifted my beer for a drink—then damn near choked on it when Maverick’s date followed him inside.
Percy fucking Helix?
Maybe Maverick was early and his date wasn’t here yet? Or maybe—
Percy placed a hand on Maverick’s lower back, ushering him toward a table with a reserved sign on it. Holy shit. Maverick was actually on a date with Percy. The Matchmaking Mamas had certainly changed things up from their planning session last week.
As usual, Percy had dressed conservatively, though he’d swapped his somber gray suit for a pale blue one that actually looked pretty decent with his fair complexion.
He said something that made Maverick smile, and oh god, was he really into this guy?
Was this his type? Percy made most people uncomfortable.
He talked about death too much. He was at home with corpses.
He wasn’t an undertaker, per se, but Helix Final Homes was a small family business, so he helped wherever he was needed.
“Damon, are you listening?”
I jerked my attention to Lyle. “Huh?”
“We were just asking if you wanted to split an appetizer combo,” he said. “I guess your attention was somewhere else…”
“Uh, yeah.” I chuckled nervously. “Just people watching. Can you believe this is what people do for fun around here?”
“Aren’t we supposedly doing this for fun?” Neil asked.
“We’re not on a date, though.” Hammy sent me an odd look, and I hurriedly added, “Or playing lame-ass trivia.”
“Is someone here on a date?” Truman asked, craning his head to scan the room. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Martha is with someone,” Lyle ventured.
Truman snorted. “Martha is always with someone. That hardly counts as a date.”
“Then where…” Neil turned in his seat for a better angle on the rest of the room. And shit, I hadn’t meant to turn this into a game of I spy someone having a date!
“It doesn’t matter. An app combo sounds good.”
“Oh, it’s Percy!” Truman exclaimed. “He’s with the florist.”
“Also known as Damon’s neighbor,” Neil said dryly.
“He’s with Maverick?” I said. “Huh. How about that?”
“Yeah, how about that?” Neil said, an evil glint in his eye. “The neighbor you prank regularly is on a date, and you just happen to be in the same place.”
“Funny how life works.”
“It sure is,” he said. “I mean, total coincidence, right? You just wanted to come out tonight, and Maverick just happened to be on a date here, too.”
“Yup.”
I could sense the sharks circling, but I was determined not to bleed. I lifted my beer and drained it.
Truman smirked. “Lyle, maybe we should tell Damon the story of how we got together.”
Lyle raised an eyebrow. “You think?”
“I’ve heard that story,” I said. “Your friends told you that you were into each other and—” I stopped short, eyes narrowing. “What does this have to do with anything?”
“I didn’t understand that my feelings for Truman had changed,” Lyle said. “He was my best friend, so of course I cared about him. But I’d never been with a guy, so I didn’t see…”
“See what?”
Truman grinned. “That he was totally in love with me. Because I’m awesome, and who wouldn’t be?”
“It amazes me I didn’t have to fight off half the town for you,” Lyle said dryly.
“I know!”
Neil and Hammy laughed, but I was stuck on the point of this story.
“I’m not in love with Maverick. That’s a really far stretch.”
“Maybe not,” Truman said. “But being here isn’t a coincidence, is it?”
I hesitated. “I just…I set up this whole Matchmaking Mamas thing. As a prank.” My friends stared at me, waiting for the rest. I squirmed under the attention. “I just thought I should keep an eye on him. You know, in case any of these dates go bad.”
“So you’re planning to spy on all his dates?” Hammy asked, sounding incredulous.
“I’m not spying,” I protested. “I’m just hanging out with friends in the same pub.”
Truman snorted. “You’re so spying.”
“Definitely spying,” Lyle agreed.
“Yeah, it’s kind of sad, man,” Hammy added.
Neil cringed, looking sympathetic. Cringing for me. “They have a point, Damon. You’ve been very invested in this guy. Even before the matchmaking, you were obsessed with the pranks. Maybe…”
“Maybe what?” I asked darkly. “I’m not the first guy to find his neighbor annoying.”
“Okay.” Neil bit his lip. “It’s up to you to figure out what it means, not any of us.”
I huffed. What it meant? I knew what it meant. Maverick was a pain in the ass, that was all. He didn’t like me, and I didn’t like him. That was an undeniable fact of the universe.
This was what I got for having sappy friends. They wanted to see love where there was none.
I shook my head at them all. “I should just start calling you all the Matchmaking Mamas. That shit is weak. I want to kick Mav’s ass most of the time, not…anything else.”
Truman smirked. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”
I rolled my eyes and pushed my chair back. “I need another beer. I’ll get the next round and order that app combo.”
The fact that the bar was a much better vantage point from which to watch Maverick and Percy interact? Well, that had nothing to do with it.