Page 80 of Betting on the Bad Boy

“He challenged me to another game. Loser does a strip tease for the winner.”

“I guess things are back on again, then?”

Jess shoved her arms into her coat. “Looks that way. Things would never have worked out with me and Shanti. Jake’s momis Italian. She makes her own sauce. Jerk chicken just can’t compete with that.”

“Yeah, I see your point. I’m sure many relationships have been built on less.”

Jess leaned into me, slurring her words. “You just get me. I lub you, Faith.”

“I love you too, Jess. You sure you’re okay? It’s not even midnight yet. And how am I supposed to get home now?”

“I’m fine, and I’ll cover the cost of your ride share.” She wrapped her arms around me in a quick hug. “I’ll get my bags out of your trunk tomorrow. Dante, you’d better give my girl Faith here a major dose of tongue when the clock strikes twelve.”

Dante laughed. I took a step toward my friend just as Jake walked up and lifted Jess up under the armpits. He’d been a wrestler in high school and college, so he picked her up like she weighed nothing at all. “Come on, sweet cheeks. You owe me.”

Jess smiled and waved at me as he carried her out of the bar.

“The happy couple leaves,” Dante said. “And then there were two.”

I looked around. Where did everyone else go? We were alone.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize how late it was getting. Not much of a crowd for New Year’s, huh?” I asked.

“The bar down the road is giving out free champagne and has a balloon drop at midnight. I guess we can’t compete with that.”

I bit down on my lip, suddenly nervous about being alone with him. “You probably want to close up. I should go.”

“I’m in no rush. I have the day off tomorrow, and it’ll probably take a while to get a ride share. Let me just clean up a little, and I can run you home.”

“That’s really not necessary. I’ll just hang out while you wrap up. I’m sure I’ll be fine to drive myself by the time you’re done.”

“We’ll see.” Dante smiled as he turned on the TV over the bar.

The Times Square countdown showed forty minutes left until the New Year descended upon us. He busied himself behind the bar, stacking dirty glasses in the compact dishwasher and wiping down the counters.

“So, your grandmother is really okay?” I asked.

“Yep. She had me worried there for a while, but she’s doing really well.”

“Good.”

“She asked about you.” Dante tossed the dishrag in the sink and started refilling the napkin holders.

“She did?”

“Yeah. She doesn’t know you like I do. She thinks you’re a nice, sweet girl, committed to serving the greater good by cooking and serving turkeys to desperate senior citizens everywhere.”

I snickered. “That sounds like an accurate description.”

“How about a game of pool? I saw the way you ran the table with Jess. Think you can take me?”

“You’re on.” May as well. I got up from the bar and moved toward the pool table.

Dante stepped out from behind the bar and walked to the front door. He flipped the outdoor lights off and locked the deadbolt. Then he muted the TV and turned the volume up on the stereo up as he passed. Jon Bon Jovi yelled at everyone to have a nice day.

“You want to break?” he asked.

“No, go ahead. I’ll let you take the first shot.”