“There you are.” She grinned at me. “Hey, can I get a Sidecar over here!” she bellowed toward the cute blonde behind the counter. “And an uh…”

“Beer,” I supplied. “Whatever you’ve got in a bottle. Surprise me.”

The woman pulled a face as if I’d just asked her to spit on me. I didn’t give a damn. I didn’t need a fancy drink right now. What I needed was something to take the edge off and was within my budget. If there was one thing I knew about Chelsea, it was that she was going to make this hurt. At least I’d get a great security system for a steal.

We took our drinks and moved away from the bar. Not that there was much room to move. We slid through the crowd together until we were in an area with a little more space. Chelsea sipped on her Sidecar, a smile on her face as she adjusted her dark red dress and pushed a springy curl of hair out of her face.

“You look good,” I said.

Chelsea lit up and shoved dainty fingers against my chest. “Awww, thanks, Texas. It’s been a while since I’ve gone out. I wasn’t even sure if any of this.” She gestured to herself. “Worked.”

I grinned. “Have you seen you? Trust me, it’s working.”

Her bright, beaming grin made me feel better about the bullshit I was currently dealing with. Chelsea had always been able to drag a smile out of me. We’d grown up together since middle school. And while I had chosen law enforcement, Chelsea stuck to what she knew; technology, security, and selling information to the right people for the right amount of money.

She was a badass. I admired her.

“What do you think about the blonde?” she asked, nodding toward the woman behind the bar. “Short hair, nice build. I bet she has a hell of a grip.”

I groaned. “To choke you?”

“Just a little!” she said. “Come on, look at her.” She stared at her prey, a dark gleam in her eye. “I bet she’s got a twisted side.”

Laughter rumbled out of my chest, and for the first time tonight, I felt like I wasn’t going completely insane. “There’s something wrong with you.” I pointed out to her. “Seriously wrong.”

“Don’t act like you’re not into some messed up shit,” she said, grinning at me. “I was there for your high school whore days.”

My face flushed, and I rubbed the back of my neck while she cackled. She wasn’t wrong. Back then, I was all about falling into whatever bed was the closest. Men, women, folks in between and outside of those classifications altogether, they were all ripe for the fucking. I’d slowed down since I entered the academy. Things were hard enough trying to work without mixing in messy entanglements.

“You talk about me like you’re not just as bad,” I pointed out.

She grinned. “I never said that. Being whores is one of many reasons we get along so well.” Chelsea elbowed me fondly. “I missed you.”