Me: Which one?
Tink: Wouldn’t you like to know?
Me: Aye, lass, I would. That’s why I’m asking.
Tink: I’m with my friend.
Me: Is this a friend of the male persuasion?
Tink: Why? Are you jealous?
Me: Yes.
Tink: Oh...
Me: You want me to be jealous?
Tink: No.
Me: Does he know?
Tink: Does he know what?
Me: What your little cunt tastes like?
Tink: No.
Me: Then I’m not jealous. Where are you? I need to see you.
She sent me the address, a place not too far from the stadium. I breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn’t shut me down.
Me: I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.
Tink: I’ll see if I can stick around.
Me: You fucking better.
Tink: Bring me the British one or no dice.
Me: What?
Tink: The Brit. Then I’ll stay.
I bristled. Why did she want Ethan? But there was no way in hell I’d let that keep me from having time with her.
But then another text came through, and I relaxed.
Tink: I’m with my sister. Not some guy. If I’m going to be on a date, I want you to bring one for her so she’s not the third wheel.
I glanced around and saw Byrne staring down at his phone, a fucking ridiculously dopey smile on his face. “Oh, shit, it’s Big Deck Energy. He’s in love, lads.” I tossed a towel at his head. “Look at him, grinning like a wee little child looking at something he shouldn’t.”
“Give it a rest, Savage.” He threw the same towel back at me, hitting me in the face.
“Come on, then. Give us a little bit. You refused to go out with us, won’t let me set you up with my girl’s friends. That must mean you found yourself a bonnie wee lass.”
“You don’t say bonnie wee lass. You haven’t even been home to Edinburgh in fifteen years. You only put on the accent that thick when you want something. Spoiler alert, it doesn’t work on me. I don’t have a thing for drunk Scots.”
“Maybe you’re right, but I do have a thing for making my girl happy. And she wants a double date tonight.”