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“Glo’s going to be another ten minutes or so. She had to close up the shop.” She turns to me. “What about Jude?”

“I’m not sure that guy knows how to tell time.”

“He seemed to do okay on the tennis court,” Ford says.

I frown. “Didn’t know you were a fan.” I should be annoyed, and I try to make like I am, but the truth is, I was my little brother’s biggest fan when he was playing pro ball. I’ve never been into sports as a rule, but I know more about the game of tennis than the average referee, thanks to Jude’s career.

Even if the affectations he developed as he grew more and more famous did make him mildly insufferable for a time.

The two of them chat amiably about tennis, then about fashion, of all things. These two are getting along like a fucking house on fire while I tap my hand on the chair, wanting nothing more than to throw Sasha over my shoulder and take her home. Luckily, watching her talking animatedly is my second favorite pastime, so even though I’d normally rather eat glass than hang out at a bar for this long, being entertained by my good-looking friend no less, I manage.

Finally Jude walks in. I know because half the bar cheers while he waves like a royal, soaking it all in.

I roll my eyes. “Only an hour fucking late.”

“Is it always like this with him?” Ford asks, slightly agog at the ovation they’re giving him.

“You get used to it.”

Sasha fades slightly, and I suddenly realize this is probably what it’s like with her brother, too. For someone who doesn’t notice attention, I know the spotlight’s burned her before, given it’s usually shining in tandem with nasty words about her family.

But Sasha brightens when Jude jogs up to our table. She laughs when he makes her stand up so he can envelop her in a big, brotherly hug. He enthusiastically greets Ford, and when the server comes back to take their orders, he gives her a wink and a grin.

Sasha pulls her phone out of her pocket after the server leaves. “Oh, she’s here!” she exclaims, hopefully about Gloria. If anyone else decides to join this party, I’m going to have to wait for Sasha outside on the bike.

“We’re…at…the…back,” she sounds out as she texts.

I love it when she does that.

O’Malley’s has grown crowded over the past hour, so it’s a minute before Sasha’s friend appears, weaving her way through the cluster of people standing by the bar.

I like Gloria. She’s no nonsense and insisted she was fine if I snuck off to my workshop after dinner the other night rather than hang around and socialize.

“Hey!” she says as she approaches, smiling but clearly a little overwhelmed by being the last one here.

“Yay!” Sasha cries. She squeezes her hard. “I’m so glad you came.” She goes around the table, introducing Gloria.

It’s only when Ford says his name weird that I look at him again. He’s gotten to his feet so fast his own chair is still tottering behind him, almost falling over.

“Scrape your jaw off the floor and pull out a chair, asshole,” I say while Jude asks Gloria a question.

Sasha shoves a gentle elbow into my ribs, laughing under her breath.

“Thank you,” Gloria says as she comes over and sits in the proffered chair. The only one free happens to be right next to his, and as he sits, his eyes never leave her.

“No problem,” he says.

I swear the man looks as dopey as he did that time I saw him wake up from being punched in the face.

After she sits down and Jude asks her a question, I kick Ford under the table.

He’s still staring at her, but with the boot to the shin, he snaps his gaze to me. “The fuck?”

“No problem,” I only slightly mock.

“What?”

“You going to be okay?”