Page 62 of Bone’s Choice
“There.”
Taco slapped him on the shoulder. “Purpose.”
Munch looked at me.
I shrugged.
He’d learn.
Rowdy pulled his phone from his pocket. “Bing’s around eight?”
Bull nodded. “Works.”
Hose pointed at him. “I’m not driving any of you assholes home.”
“You’re the medic,” Taco said.
“Not an Uber,” Hose insisted.
“Similar skill set,” Dealer shrugged.
The conversation moved on without me.
Friday. Bing’s.
Being Prez didn’t mean I needed to sit at the clubhouse every night like a fucking guard dog, but the second Taco said Bing’s, one person had popped into my head.
Hazel.
Myth bumped his shoulder against mine.
I looked at him.
He didn’t say anything.
Just had that look on his face. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Then quit looking at me.”
“Didn’t realize looking required permission,” he chuckled.
“It does when you look like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’ve got something to say.”
Myth smiled. “I don’t.”
Bull called from across the room, “Bone, you coming Friday?”
Every head turned toward me.
I looked around at my brothers.
Taco. Rowdy. Dealer. Humpty. Hose. Bull. Breaker. Munch, who apparently still hadn’t accepted he wasn’t invited.
