“Listen,” he said. “I get it. People talk. We’re family…”

“I heard twenty-nine, just in your first year.”

He shook his head, stubbed out the cigarette. Did that mean more than twenty-nine? Less?

“I need a drink.” He rose as the old proprietor delivered a bag of food to the table. “Thanks, Nathaniel.” Jason passed across a wad of bills without really counting them, then shouldered the door and led me into the heat. “You ready for a beer?”

“I’m driving.”

“Nah, I got it.” He circled the hood and slid behind the wheel. I waited a moment, then got in, too. “Bottle opener is in the cooler.”

I looked around. No cops. No one seemed to care. Rooting through the ice, I found bottles of Michelob, and pulled out two, opening them and handing one over. Jason drained a third of it in a single pull, then eased onto the four-lane and turned east. I kept the bottle between my legs, sipping nervously when we hit gaps in traffic.

“Nice car,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“Robert and I had to walk.”

I looked for resentment, but didn’t see it. I could have told him how I’d paid for it mowing lawns and fueling boats, but I didn’t want to break the mood. His fingers filled the grooves on the wheel, and he whistled at the easy acceleration. In seconds, we were doing sixty in a forty-five, and he was smiling like a man fresh out of prison. He took us farther east and then north, bending around the city until we reached an expensive area filled with bright glass and trees and off-street parking.

“About these girls…” He pulled to the curb. “Don’t let them scare you.”

“I don’t. What…?”

“Ladies!”

Jason swung out of the car as two young women appeared from a nearby condo. I saw a blur of terry cloth and thin shirts and bare, smooth skin. They giggled down a flight of steps and met Jason on the sidewalk, each one rising on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. The shorter one leaned in as if whispering. “Is this him? He’s cuter than you said. See, Sara. I told you.”

Both were staring, both braless and tan. The blonde wore a headband with a turquoise stone in the center of her forehead. The shorter one with dark hair wore it feathered.

“All right,” Jason said. “Ladies in the back. Little brother rides with me.”

“Aww…”

“I’ll share later. Now, come on. Load up.”

He gestured at the car, and the young women piled in, the tall blonde speaking first, her voice soft and calm. “I’m Sara,” she said. “This is Tyra.” I responded as best I could, but was lost in a cloud of perfume and legs and the quick glimpse of a pale, curving breast.