Vicious Cycle (Vicious Cycle #1)(35)

I couldn’t help chuckling as she stomped past Rev and into the clubhouse.

When he glanced at me and raised his brows, I shook my head. “Don’t ask until I’ve had at least two beers.”

He laughed and followed me inside.

Two hours and three beers later, I was still shooting the shit with the guys when Alex and Willow appeared. Putting down my fourth beer, I headed over to them. “Rev’s waiting on you. Head on down to Mama Beth’s.”

Willow nodded. After giving Alex a hug, she sprinted for the back door, where she took Rev’s hand and tugged him outside.

When I saw Alex staring longingly at one of the guy’s beers, I said, “It’s been a long day with some bumps in the road, so let me buy you a drink to make it up to you.”

Her brows rose in surprise at my offer. “You want to buy me a drink?”

“Sure,” I replied, giving her my most convincing smile.

“Is this your way of apologizing for being a dick about the motorcycle ride?”

With a shrug, I replied, “Maybe.”

“Still can’t say you’re sorry, can you?”

I grunted. “Not really sure that I need to, but if it makes you feel better, I’m sorry.”

Alex grinned triumphantly at me. “That was a pretty shitty apology, but since it’s coming from you, I’ll take it.”

“Does that mean you’ll take a drink from me, too?”

“Won’t your mother be expecting you for dinner?”

I shook my head. “The boys and I have to fend for ourselves when it comes to dinner on Wednesday nights. That’s when Mama Beth has her ladies’ Bible study down at the house.”

“How terrible that you might actually have to cook for yourselves,” she mused, the corners of her lips turning up in a teasing smile.

“When it comes to cooking and cleaning, we’re pretty much shit out of luck.”

She laughed. “Sounds like a typical man.”

Motioning to the bar, I asked, “What’s your poison?”

“Depends. If I’m at home and wanting to slowly unwind, I’d go for a beer. But after a long day like today, when a quick buzz would be good, I’d go for tequila.”

I snorted. “Hard stuff like tequila? You’ve got to be shitting me, White-Bread.”

“Nope. Patrón Silver if you have it.”

“I thought you’d want some white wine.”

She grinned. “I’m such a paradox.”

Rolling my eyes, I said, “Big words again.”

“I have two sides that don’t really go together or make sense.”

“I would have to agree.” Waving Cheyenne over, I said, “Give me two shots of Silver.”

Cheyenne gave me a slight glare before reaching under the bar for the Patrón. She set the two shot glasses down on the bar a little harder than she had to before pouring in the white tequila. Without another word to me, she headed down to the end of the bar, where some of the other guys sat.

Alexandra eagerly reached for her shot glass. Raising it, she cocked her brows at me. “Bottoms up?”

With a nod, I grabbed my glass. “Bottoms up,” I echoed. As I brought the glass to my lips, I eyed Alexandra, waiting for her to * out. Instead, she sucked down the tequila in one gulp and didn’t even use a lime.

Once I finished mine, I grinned at her. “Impressive.”

“Thank you.”

“Another?”

“I really shouldn’t.”

“Come on. Live a little.”

“Riding a motorcycle and getting drunk off tequila on a school night? I’d say you’re a bad influence on me.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

She laughed. “I imagine you would.” She then handed me her shot glass. “I’ll take you up on your offer.”

“Good.” When I glanced down the length of the bar, Cheyenne once again glared at me. I didn’t know what her f*cking problem was. I was just having a drink with Alexandra. It wasn’t like I was f*cking her on the bar or something.

Without a word, she came over to me. She slammed the Patrón bottle down on the bar. “In case you two want more.”

And then she stalked away. Alex glanced from Cheyenne’s retreating form over to me. “I don’t think she’s a big fan of mine.”

With a shrug, I replied, “Doesn’t matter.”

“When she looks at me like she wants to scratch my eyes out, it does matter.” Alex ran her finger over the rim of her tequila glass. “Are you seeing her?” she questioned softly.

“Not exactly.”

“What does that mean?”

Grabbing the bottle of Patrón, I poured us both another well-needed shot. Without answering her question, I raised my glass to her. “Bottoms up again.”

Alex took her glass and then clinked it with mine. “Cheers.” We then both downed the shots, shuddering a little as the alcohol burned our throats. “Now, answer my question,” Alex demanded in a no-nonsense tone.

“Okay, but you’re not going to like it.” I poured myself another shot. Surprisingly, Alex slid her glass over for a refill. Once we downed yet another one, I said, “I’m not dating Cheyenne, but I’ve been f*cking her for over a year.”