Bad Attitude by K. A. Mitchell Page A

to do when I need that nicotine hit after dinner. Which was great, by the way, kid, thanks.”
    “You’re welcome.” Like there was some national chair shortage, Eli plopped down on Quinn’s lap. “Thanks for offering to clean up.” He waved at the stacked mess occupying every counter.
    “I—”
    “Said you needed something to do to get you over the cigarette-after-dinner craving.” Eli leaned forward, no doubt rubbing his ass against Quinn’s crotch. “Do you still crave one after sex?”
    He hadn’t had sex with anyone but himself since he’d quit, but no way was he admitting that in a house where more laying went on than during Fleet Week in the harbor.
    “Like he’d have a way of knowing,” his ex-friend Quinn said.
    “Just because I haven’t hung up my balls in exchange for wedded bliss—”
    “His balls are right where they belong,” Eli interrupted.
    “He’s jealous,” Quinn suggested.
    “Well, he damned well should be.” Eli leaned back and wrapped his arms around Quinn’s neck.
    “ He is in the room. Oh.” Jamie rocked back in his chair, tipping it on two legs. “Is this going to be one of those things?”
    “Sounds kinky.” Eli sat up. “One of what things?”
    “Couple things.” Jamie waved his phone at them. “Like where you start trying to fix me up with people.”
    Eli snorted a laugh.
    “Would that keep your hairy red ass from mooching meals twice a week?” Quinn tipped his head at Jamie until Eli did something under the table that made Quinn jump and hiss.
    Good. Jamie hoped whatever the kid had done still hurt. “Like hell your balls are your own.” He sneered.
    Quinn tried the whole steely gaze, but Jamie flipped him off anyway.
    “And what are you laughing at, brat?” Jamie looked at Eli.
    “No offense, but you really don’t strike me as boyfriend material.”
    “What? I’ve had boyfriends.” Jamie hadn’t thought of Colton, hadn’t had the dream for years, except the night Dad died. Now, twice in one month. He could see the grinning bastard as clearly as if eighteen years ago was yesterday. Yeah? How ’bout you blow me when I beat your ass down the other side?
    “Name one—not just someone you fucked more than once,” Quinn demanded.
    Jamie considered, rubbing his jaw. “Does it count if we had a meal between fucks?”
    “See.” Eli was laughing again. “That’s what I mean. And really, Jamie, I get it. You’re not a domestic type.”
    No, he wasn’t. God knew he didn’t need a lap full of snuggling club rat.
    Eli winked, like he was reading Jamie’s mind. “It’s not all bad. So, whose message were you checking?”
    “I wouldn’t know, because the two of you started giving me shit the minute I took out my phone.”
    “Check it now,” Eli suggested.
    Jamie held the phone to his ear to play back the voicemail. “What about that ride you promised me?” Gavin’s voice was seductive, teasing.
    “Christ, Montgomery, have some self-respect,” Jamie muttered.
    The voice changed, took on a self-conscious waver. “I know it’s utterly unimportant to you, but you did save my life, and I can’t seem to accept that you somehow despise me. I apologize for my presumptions at the party.” There was a light cough. “Perhaps I could make it up to you.”
    Jamie glanced at the phone for a second, like he could read the expressions on Gavin’s face through the screen that asked him if he wanted to save or delete. Which was the real man? Almost embarrassed, shy and apologetic, or the teasing come-on? Like Jamie cared enough to find out. His thumb hovered over delete when he felt his friends’ stares.
    “Gavin Montgomery?” Eli said.
    “Yeah.” Jamie saved the message and put the phone in his pocket.
    “You call each other?”
    “You were right here when I told you about that party. Hell, you and your boy Kellan played fairy godmother over me for a week.”
    “Thought that was only some show the old man was putting on,” Quinn said.
    “It