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to handle.”
    Her green eyes
found him in their sights and his pulse quickened. She stared at him for a
moment and turned back to the throbbing crowd. Dean, however, couldn’t turn
away so easily. He loved the way her gaze slowly gravitated back to him every
few seconds. He waited for it and started counting – one Mississippi, two,
Mississippi, three Mississippi. Evy turned back to face him and he tried not to
laugh.
    “What?”
    He shook his
head, wanting to know everything about her but not wanting to spoil the moment
with words. She tore her gaze back to the dance floor and it filled him with
joy knowing those eyes would soon be back. He impatiently awaited their return,
adjusting his jeans which were riding him in the crotch.
    “Okay, who
ordered the lamb?” Jon yelled, magically appearing out of thin air with three
shot glasses in his hands.
    “Oh, hell no,”
Dean said, taking one of them off his hands.
    Jon shoved one
in front of Evy, who eyeballed it like spiders were crawling about inside. She
held up a palm. “Oh, I don’t…”
    “Take it!” Jon said,
gesturing with the glass and spilling a little of the clear liquid onto the
wood planks between her shoes.
    She took it
before he could spill any on her as a pretty waitress dropped off a tray of
Heinekens.
    Jon thanked her
with some folded bills and told her to keep it. She gave Dean fuck me eyes and Evy frowned. Jon
watched the waitress disappear into the gyrating mass on the dance floor,
licking his lips from one side to the other. He turned back around and raised
his shot glass into the sweaty smelling air. “Here is to the rousing success of
Sugars, my new favorite after dinner retreat!”
    Evy smiled and clanked
her glass against theirs. They tossed them back, grimaced with the tequila’s
burn, and slammed the glasses onto a narrow coffee table with a relaxing shade
of red glowing from its core. Jon chased the shot with a long swig from a
Heineken bottle. “ Whoo ! Now,
that’s what I’m talkin about!” He sat down on the
other side of Evy and surveyed the crowd, his head bobbing along with the music. “Ass soup tonight!”
    Evy arched a
puzzled eyebrow at him and Dean gladly took the opportunity to lean into her
ear, much closer than needed. “He means it’s an… attractive crowd.”
    Her perplexed
frown morphed into a laugh.
    “So is your
sister single?”
    She smiled warmly
at Jon. “She’s married.”
    “Bummer,” Jon
replied dully, returning his attention to two dark skinned girls with long
brown hair tearing up the dance floor. “So what’s up with giving my boy here
the slip two times in a row?” he asked, jerking his chin at Dean.
    She turned to
Dean and sharpened her gaze. “I know a player when I see one.”
    Dean’s jaw
dropped in mock horror. “Me?”
    Jon leaned in
closer to Evy and Dean wished it was him. “Don’t hate the player, hate the game,
girl! He can’t help it if women fall all over him.”
    She turned to
Dean and wrinkled her brow. “You poor baby.”
    Dean’s shoulders
rose to his ears. “It’s an old family curse.”
    “His problem is
he’s been looking for love in all the wrong places,” Jon said, enjoying watching
Dean squirm.
    Dean rolled his
eyes and took a long drink, hiding behind his beer bottle for as long as
humanely possible.
    Evy squinted at
Jon. “That sounds like a country song.”
    He shrugged
apathetically while scanning the club. “All I know is you’re only going to find
rotten skanks in a place like this. Dean needs
someone wholesome to sweep him off his feet and he ain’t gonna find that in here,” he said, his eyes following
the tight butt of a pretty redhead walking by. “Trust me.”
    Evy studied Jon
while Dean shot him a look that could kill behind her
back. “Wow, you’re a really good wingman, Jon!” she said over the driving beat.
“I’m impressed.”
    Jon gestured
with his bottle, spilling some beer that Evy narrowly dodged. “My boy here runs
a lot deeper