Trundle snickered. “I’m off to finish up. It was nice meeting you guys. Don’t be strangers.” He waved, taking off for a back door.

Jordan was frowning at the scoreboard. “Who won?”

Cross went next, got a strike. Second strike. Third strike. “I did.”

Jordan growled. “Not cool, but fitting. You’re the DD.”

Zellman picked up his ball. “I’m hungry.”

Cross was putting his and my ball away. He went up, waiting for us by the tables that we needed to pass for the door. “Is there a place open twenty-four-seven?”

“There’s a diner not far. It’s a college hangout. PubTown.” The answer came from behind the register.

Cross frowned at Brock, but skimmed over the rest.

Zellman and Jordan were trailing behind me.

“You guys want to eat there? Head home?”

“Uh.” Zellman tossed our emptied soda bottles in the garbage, then held up a hand. “Since I’m single, I say hell yes for the diner. There’s gotta be chicks there.” He clamped a hand on Jordan’s shoulder. “Remember, he requested girls for a distraction tonight.”

Jordan’s smile was a little wobbly, just like mine.

It was then I realized Cross had a hold on the back of my jeans. He tugged me back into him, a small smile just for me. I loved when he gave me one of those. A little tingle raced through me, and even though I was either buzzed or drunk, I was still feeling it.

Cross tugged me farther back, his one arm going around my shoulder and curling around to rest over the front of me. I reached up, entwining our hands. He spoke over my head, “Then it’s settled.” He angled us out the door, adding behind me now, “Thank you for letting us stay late.”

“Yeah…Bren!”

Cross swung me around. I blinked a few times, focusing because Brock now had two heads. Both were swimming around his body. “Yes?”

“You can have tomorrow off if you work Saturday.”

I knew what that meant. Saturday was bail-bonds day. It was always one of their busiest nights. “Yes! Can I go in the field?”

He chuckled, closing the register. “Maybe. We’ll see.” He dipped his head down again. “Have a good night.”

I felt Cross lift his arm, but then we were moving back out and headed for Jordan’s truck. I asked as soon as we were inside, “Why do we always drive Jordan’s truck? Why not mine? Or yours?”

Jordan slid open the window between us. “Because my truck is the biggest.”

Zellman added, “And because he’s got a setup back here with sleeping bags, cushions, and blankets. It’s like we’ve got our own couch.”

Jordan snorted. “A couch that’s strapped down.”

“Well, yeah.”

Cross started the engine, putting the gear into reverse. “Your boss watched you almost the whole night.”

Aaaand there went my buzz.