Page 2 of Good For Me

Sorry, guys. I don’t actually carry my father around in my pocket. You’ll have to make do with me.

“Oh my God!” a female voice squeals. I look up to see that Spider Eyes has returned to the bar. She’s leaning across it, doing that thing with her arms that girls do when they want to push their boobs out. “Ilovethis song,” she says. “Don’t you love this song, Riv?”

Jesus. I catch sight of Kim behind her, and my co-worker shakes her head at me. She knows exactly what I’m thinking—sorry, sweetheart. There goes any chance you might have had.

There is zero possibility this girl isn’t aware of who I am, and playing dumb about it just cut off any opportunity she had of getting closer to me tonight.

As if the tarantulas on her eyes weren’t bad enough.

I give the girl a tight nod before sliding further down the bar, busying myself at the taps. “I keep meaning to ask Dave to take this song off the jukebox,” Kim says, joining me with fresh glasses.

I shake my head. “Not necessary. It’s a great song.”

It really is, too. It’s not my favorite of Ransom’s songs, but it is one of their most famous ones, and I can see why. It has a great beat, a catchy tune, and Uncle Cash plays one of his most epic guitar solos in the middle. Who wouldn’t like it?

And I don’t mind hearing it, or any of their other songs, on the radio or when I’m out. Or even when I’m working. My dad’s band kicks ass and I never get sick of hearing them.

What I do mind is the way people look at me when they hear it. Like they’re waiting for some kind of reaction. It’s annoying as shit.

“What the hell is this crap?” a familiar voice bellows, and I look up to see my older cousin Wyatt leaning on the bar, grinning at me, his brother Will at his side. They’re wearing matching expressions—knowing and amused, and the weight of annoyance in my chest eases.

“I know, right? Who would play this kind of music in a classy place like this?” I sling my bar towel over my shoulder. “What are you assholes drinking?”

“Beer,” they say in unison, and I laugh.

“You guys realize we have more than fifty beers on tap,” Kim asks with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s okay,” I tell her, grabbing two clean pint glasses. “I know what they like.”

She hands me a third clean glass from her tray. “Why don’t you take your break,” she offers. “Things have slowed down a little.”

“Thanks,” I tell her gratefully. Having a beer with my cousins actually sounds pretty damn great right now.

I fill our beers while the guys grab a table. A few girls call my name as I make my way over to my cousins. I bestow grins and winks on all of them—I’m benevolent that way.

“You’re such a douchebag,” Will says the second I sit down. “Seriously, has there ever been anyone as far up his own ass as you?”

“Guess I spent too much of my formative years hanging out with your father,” I shoot back, and they both laugh.

“Fair point,” Wyatt says, sliding the beer I hand off toward his brother.

“So what brings the two of you to this charming establishment?” I ask. I honestly can’t remember the last time I saw either of them without their women.

Will shrugs. “We need an excuse to come see you?”

I study him. “Girls kicked you out, huh?”

They both scowl. “Everly has them doing something for the wedding,” Will admits.

“Sounds like you dodged a bullet, then,” I mutter. Wedding planning with our cousin sounds like a nightmare to me. Everly is a lot to handle at the best of times, but shove a few bridal magazines in front of her and the girl loses her damn mind.

“Eva got her dress this week and they want her to show them.” Will sounds wistful. “Don’t know why they all get to see it and I don’t.”

“Tradition, man,” his brother says. “It will be better to see it the day of. Watching her walk down the aisle and all that shit.”

They both get embarrassingly lame looks on their faces—the expression of guys who have definitely imagined their girl walking down toward them in a puffy white dress.

“Wish you would have brought my sister with you,” I mutter. “Rose wouldn’t be half as sappy as the two of you.”