Free The Gravedigger's Brawl by Abigail Roux Page B

and slammed the car door. “You ready?”
    Wyatt eyed the tailored shirt Noah was wearing. “Did you change?”
    Noah flushed. “Had an incident in the preservation room.” He jerked his head and turned to start walking.
    â€œWe could just drive,” Wyatt said as he jogged around the car to catch up.
    â€œYes, but this way you have more time to think about what you’re going to say when we get there.”
    â€œTrue.” He grinned slyly at Noah. “Is Caleb going to be there?”
    Noah smiled. “Maybe.”
    Wyatt plucked at the shirt Noah had changed into. Only when he was lecturing did he wear nice clothing like that. “That why you look good?”
    Noah huffed but shook his head. “I really did have a spill. Even got all over my shoes.” He pointed down at feet; his boots were stained dark on the toes. “This was all I had in my office.” He stopped short and turned. “Should I change? I mean, I could go home and get—”
    â€œNoah.” Wyatt took Noah’s arm. “You look good, you don’t need to change. Wow, you really like this guy, huh?”
    Noah flashed a silly grin. “Yeah.”
    Wyatt smiled, but he soon began thinking about Ash and the look in his eyes when Wyatt had tried to apologize. The exasperation and the annoyance, the way Ash had so easily shrugged it all off as a non-event. What if he’d been able to write it off without angst because he didn’t care? What if he’d been relieved that Wyatt had been gone when he’d woken and really was just pissed about the plumbing?
    Wyatt slowed to a stop. Noah continued on for a few feet before he realized Wyatt had dropped back, and he turned to look at him questioningly.
    â€œI don’t think I can do this,” Wyatt said.
    Noah nodded in understanding and walked back beside him. He reached up and smacked Wyatt on the side of the head. “Did you leave your balls in his toilet too?”
    â€œOw! What? No!”
    â€œThen get the lead out, Case,” Noah said as he grabbed Wyatt’s elbow and began pulling him along.
    â€œI hate you.”
    â€œI hate you too.”
    When they got to Gravedigger’s, the patio out front where the porch had once been was already full of laughing patrons. Several dogs were tied to the iron fence, sitting with their masters as they ate. The festive lights strung over the patio acted as a ceiling of sorts, and were already on and winking in the shade of the building.
    Wyatt hesitated, but Noah, unyielding, dragged him to the door and shoved him unceremoniously inside. It wasn’t as crowded as the patio. People were probably trying to drain the last dregs of warmth out of the day. The show in here was impressive, though.
    Ash hadn’t changed his clothing since Wyatt had seen him that morning, but he looked different. The heavy eyeliner was back, accenting his dark eyes, and his wavy hair had been gelled, appearing jet black and perpetually wet. Ryan was dressed similarly, right down to the suspenders and tight white undershirt, and they were both standing on top of the bar, juggling bottles of alcohol and tossing them back and forth to each other in perilous arcs.
    Wyatt stood gaping as he realized that not only were they tossing the bottles around, but they were also mixing drinks as they did it. The music that played along with them was so loud that Wyatt felt it more than heard it as a steady, rhythmic beat in the pit of his stomach. It had a distinctly Old World Gypsy feel to it, very fitting as the crowd clapped in rhythm, watching in awe as the bartenders performed what was essentially a circus act.
    â€œWonder why they’re doing this today?” Noah shouted to Wyatt over the noise.
    â€œI don’t know. Ash said they only flair on weekends. Maybe they’re practicing for that big tournament they’re going to.” Wyatt shrugged. “Well hell, we’re not going