Lexus.
I gulped down another shot of whiskey, letting the burn distract me from the absolute disaster my mother had just dumped on me. Across from me, Dane lit a cigar, watching me with a smirk that screamed you're doomed, man.
"So," he exhaled a cloud of smoke. "What the hell are you gonna do?"
I sighed, leaning back in my seat. "No clue. Maybe fake my death? Go into hiding? Become a monk?"
A stripper twirled in front of me, her sharp gaze locked on mine like she could smell my stress. I threw a stack of cash at her—not to tip, but to make her stop staring at me like I was a buffet.
"Go dance somewhere else," I muttered.
Dane snorted. "Man, you're really down bad."
I turned to him. "Speaking of disasters, what's up with you? The media's going nuts over some girl you kissed at a football game. Your harem must be losing their minds."
