Tox reached into his wallet and threw more than enough money on the table. “I gotta split. I want to get home before this wears off.”
Finn shook his head, grinning at his friend’s excitement. “Keep me updated on the Charlotte situation. And, uh, let me know how it goes with the other thing. On second thought, don’t.”
Tox took Finn’s face in his massive hands and kissed him on the top of his head. “Love you, brother. I’m going home to knock up my wife.” Tox nearly shouted the words, and a table of women looked up, no doubt imagining his six-foot, five-inch body doing just that.
“Good luck, buddy.” Finn waved him off and reached for the burger Tox had left untouched—a true indication of his enthusiasm.
The waitress returned and started gathering plates. She plucked the empty glass off the table. “Pineapple juice and orange Fanta with a shot of cherry Robitussin. Sometimes in life, you just need the right state of mind.” She winked again and finished clearing the table.
Finn fought a chuckle.
“Can I get you anything else?” she asked.
“Piece of chocolate chess pie.”
Finn tapped his fork on the tabletop, the news about Charlotte disconcerting. He hated having to suppress this urge to help. Even at the depth of his darkness, he had always been there when his friends needed him. On a rational level, he knew his brothers could handle a stalker in their sleep. The emotional side was a little harder to swallow: Charlotte Devlin wasn’t his anymore, and she never would be.
Finn cut into the slice with the side of his fork—warm chocolate, cold whipped cream, crisp crust: the contradiction, a familiar heaven in his mouth. He savored that first bite and licked the fork. Inexplicably, his eyes welled up, and he was suddenly overcome with a profound urge to call his younger brother.