Colt lifted his arm to rest on the booth, his fingers running up and down the skin of my arm. I scooted closer into the crook of his body and enjoyed the solid warmth of him despite the humid air circulating through the diner.
He didn’t say anything or remark on the fact that Boxer and I were ribbing each other. But I knew he was enjoying our exchange.
“You gonna eat the rest of that?” Boxer asked, gesturing to my plate.
I pushed it to him.
“Where’s Zip?” he asked, dousing the omelet in hot sauce.
“On the phone,” Colt replied. “Don’t know with who.”
“Probably Cheese,” Boxer stated. “He’s been checking in with Cheese about Joni.”
“Really,” Colt drawled. “Why?”
I had to force myself to remain lax even though the insides of me were tense and coiling with the truth.
“He feels like a shit that he said he’d watch her and then had to give Cheese the duty while he was out of town.”
Boxer’s announcement did nothing to ease the tension I felt in Colt’s body. “Those two can’t stand each other,” Colt remarked.
“Yeah, I dunno. But Zip takes his duties seriously,” Boxer said. “You know that.”
“Hmmm.” Colt looked out the window and Boxer took a moment to glance at me. We had an entire conversation with our eyes—both of us knew what was really going on between Joni and Zip and yet neither us wanted to be the one to let Colt in on the secret.
What would happen when it all exploded?
There would be hell to pay for sure.
The waitress appeared at our table and gently set the check down, addressing Boxer. “Thank you so much for joining us. You can pay at the cash register.”
Boxer grinned. “Thank you for the excellent service, darlin’.”
She giggled and then fluttered away like a love-struck blonde butterfly.
“Yup, exactly as I said. Magic dick,” Boxer crowed.
“If your dick is so magical why did we have to pay for breakfast?” Colt asked, finally joining the teasing train.
Boxer’s face fell.
I let out a deep belly laugh. “That totally just made my morning.”
Zip was on his bike, helmet and sunglasses on, ready to depart. He glowered when he saw the three of us come out of the diner. “Bout damn time.”
“Why so happy, sunshine?” Boxer needled.
“I just want to get the fuck out of here.”
I didn’t blame him. Even though I’d had more sleep than Colt, my eyes were gritty. I’d added a Red Bull to our check and held the cold can in my hand. I popped it open and took a long sip. I needed the energy and caffeine if I was going to keep Colt awake while he drove. I certainly couldn’t drive his truck—not with my wrist the way it was. A truck that big needed serious power and both hands to control.
“See you guys,” Colt said, heading around to the driver’s side. We waved and Boxer and Zip pealed out of the parking lot.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay to drive home?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” he said.
“You’ve been awake for hours—”