Sawyer sent Garrett a beseeching look, and Garrett sighed in response. Guess he drew the short straw. “So…is she here to stay? Claire?” he asked, peeling the label off a bottle he hadn’t taken a sip from.

“She says she is, but hell if I know. That woman’s mind changes with the weather, and usually I don’t care, but she’s told Finley she’s staying, and that means I’ll have a broken-hearted five-year-old when something bigger and better comes along.” Hence why I wasn’t drinking. For all I knew, Claire would call in an hour and say she changed her mind and Finley needed to come home.

“And…are you two together?” Sawyer asked, taking a cue from Garrett.

“Hell no. Never again.” Did seeing her fuck with my head a little? Sure. Was I remotely interested in rekindling something that had died so thoroughly it would need life support and a miracle? Not in the least.

“Okay…” Garrett narrowed his eyes at Sawyer and then huffed. “So that means you and Morgan?”

“What is it with the questions?” I shot both my best friends a glare.

“We’re trying to be supportive,” Sawyer said with a shrug, then winked at a girl across the bar.

“Well, stop. You’re just making it really fucking weird.” My cell phone vibrated, and I lifted my ass off the barstool just enough to slide it out of my back pocket. Morgan. I fumbled for the answer button, which earned me a WTF look from Garrett, but I managed to swipe it across without making too much of an ass out of myself. “Morgan?”

“No, it’s Sam!” she shouted over the background noise.

“Sam? Is Morgan okay?” My brow puckered.

“Define okay,” she answered.

“Is she hurt?”

“No, nothing like that, but I think I might need your help.” There was a muffled scrape, like she had put her hand over the mic. “Mia! Don’t encourage her!” The background noise swamped the call again. “Sorry. Look, I swore I would never call a guy to help me pull a friend off a bar—”

“What?” I snapped. Both Garrett and Sawyer’s heads twisted my way, then Garrett asked for the tab. Morgan was on a bar?

“Do you think you can get to Avon? I think you might be the only one she’ll listen to, or the only one who can muscle her down at this point, anyway.”

“Tell me where you are. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

Fourteen minutes later, I parked my car, killed the engine, and took the front stairs two at a time, flanked by Garrett and Sawyer.

“Jesus, who trucked in the frat guys?” Garrett asked. The college crowd had filled the bar, consuming the long, wooden counter that ran the length of the space and overflowing to the pool table area.

“Jax!” Sam called out from the right side of the bar.