Chapter 59

Andy tipped his head back to read Scooter’s expression. “Does Mark cheat?”

Lolly coughed out a startled laugh. “No, no, that ain’t what Mark does. Mark’s…um. Well, let’s just say you’re not a local queer unless you’ve taken Mark Johannson for a ride.”

“The ladies, too?” Andy chuckled, but his shoulders tensed against Scooter’s chest.

“Helps if you don’t think of him as a man, exactly,” Lolly continued. Describing Mark in detail was one of his favorite things. Scooter rolled his eyes and rubbed his thumb against the back of Andy’s neck. “More like…a sex toy on legs. Last time he was involved in a game of Settlers, a spontaneous orgy broke out. He had some woodfor your sheep.” He guffawed at the well-worn joke.

Scooter leaned closer. “I wasn’t there,” he said quietly.

“I’m sure Kat would’ve never let you hear the end of it if you were,” Andy said. He reached up and patted Scooter’s cheek. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone make off with me.”

Lolly was still rambling on about Mark. That was always painful. If you hung around Ghent long enough, you were bound to encounter half a dozen guys who were convinced that Mark was “the one who got away.” Mark was upfront about the fact that he didn’t settle down, but sometimes guys—like Lolly—got stuck on him. Privately, Scooter wondered why Lemarr put up with it, but it wasn’t his relationship, so he stayed out of it.

The next time Lolly paused for air, Scooter interrupted to say, “Count us in for a game night. Gimme a text so we can compare schedules and we’ll make a night of it. I’ll bring Kat and Jason, if everyone promises to keep their pants on. If I have to look at Jason Anderson’s dick again, I might cry.”

“I understand works of art can be very moving,” Andy teased.

“Winnie’s just worried you’ll find somethin’ you like better,” Lolly said.

“My name is Scooter,” Scooter said. “Knock it off before I dump you in The Hague.”

That weird little line of tension in Andy’s neck came back. “Now, boys, play nice.” He tipped a faint smile at Scooter. “You’re not jealous already, are you?”

Yes. No. Well, a little. “Nah,” Scooter said. “Just tired of someone who insists on being nicknamed after a lollipop givin’ me shit about my name. He ain’t my Ma.”

Lolly made one of his signature sucking dick gestures, crude, rude, and obnoxious, which broke the tension enough for Scooter to laugh at. “It’s what I’m good at,” Lolly said.

“Naming yourself after a lollipop kind of implies you’re more used to being on the other end of that equation,” Andy pointed out. Scooter didn’t have to look at his face to know he’d put on that sly smirk.

“Oh, he’s cute, Wi—Scooter. I like him. Where’d you find him?” Lolly asked.

“Special order,” Scooter shot back. “Now behave, or I ain’t bringin’ him around your rude ass anymore.”

“I am behaving,” Lolly protested.

“Badly,” they both finished, in tandem. It was an old line, and Scooter cracked up, leaning against Andy’s shoulder.

Andy smiled, though obviously the joke wasn’t quite as hilarious for him—well, old in-jokes never were. He looked around for Trick. “If we’re going to be back before the dinner rush…”

Scooter startled. Right, right. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “Take care, Lolly. Call me, we’ll come up. I’ll close up early one night, s’long as you give me some warning.”

“Phone lines go both ways,” Lolly pointed out. “Nice meeting you, Andy. Take care of this asshole, would ya? He’d forget his own head if it wasn’t attached.”

Andy offered Lolly his hand again, grinning. “Good to meet you, too,” he said. “I’ll look forward to seeing you again.”

Lolly let them get about half a block away before yelling, “Bye, Winnie!” at the top of his lungs. Scooter twitched his fingers and turned to lunge at him, best murder face expression on. Lolly made a terrified swoon worthy of the stage, then laughed, and waved. Scooter scoffed, waved back, and tucked his arm around Andy’s shoulders.

“Asshole,” Scooter complained, though it was hard to stay mad at Lolly. “You’ll like the crew. I can’t wait for you to meet them all.”

“Yeah?” Andy relaxed a little, leaning into Scooter’s side again. “How’d you meet them?”

“Took my turn on the town bike,” Scooter admitted. “Can’t really live ‘round here without knowing George Johannson and his two sons, Mark and Simon. They own, like, half the beach hotels. Anyway, I picked up Mark at a concert back when I was in college. Mark introduced me to Lemarr, and Lemarr to Justin Tanaka, and from there, everyone else. If you…yeah, if you meet him, I got three words for you: Don’t. Get. Attached. He will attempt to pick you up. And he’s very…convincing.” More than that, Mark was huge; he could (and sometimes did) literallypick up people he was interested in.