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oysters,” Ryan said.
    “Fuck you.”
    “Want something you can swallow?” Reese offered.
    “Please.”
    Reese reached into the bag on the table and produced another paper-wrapped sandwich. Always prepared, that girl.
    “You’re the best.”
    “I know.”
    “If only someone would get me another beer.” I frowned at my empty bottle. Then I pouted out my bottom lip and gave Ryan my saddest eyes.
    “So fuckin’ needy.” He shook his head. But then he got up and grabbed two beers out of the small fridge. He twisted the top off mine before handing it to me. I couldn’t do that. Open a beer with my bare hand. But Ryan could, and he knew I found it super impressive.
    “So manly.”
    “Blow me.”
    Reese glared at us. Then she stole Ryan’s fresh beer. He got up and got himself another one with a long-suffering sigh. So put upon.
    “So what are we going to do?” Reese asked.
    “I’m gonna need you to narrow that question down,” I said.
    “I meant in the broad sense. Take the money and ditch them? Stick it out? Disappear? Thoughts? Feelings?”
    “I vote we give it some time. But it’s your call.” I shrugged. Not my decision.
    “If staying with them blows then we can always take off,” Ryan said.
    “True. I just didn’t like how he talked to you,” Reese said.
    “Question,” Ryan said. We waited, but he didn’t ask his question. Or say anything.
    “Ryan?” I asked.
    “Oh, yeah. Question. What do we call him?”
    “Call him?” I asked.
    “For real.” Reese nodded like Ryan was a genius. “Do we call him Breno? Dad? Breno seems accurate, but weird. And Dad just doesn’t make sense. He isn’t our dad, not really.”
    “Totally.” Ryan.
    “Are you asking me?” I wanted to know.
    “Yes.” Reese.
    “Why would I know? It’s your convoluted relationship. Not mine.”
    “We want your opinion,” Ryan said.
    “I don’t know. What feels right? When you think about him, what do you call him in your head?”
    “That dude.” Ryan.
    “Breno.” Reese.
    “Then call him Breno. Or…” I grinned. “Just don’t directly address him.”
    “So helpful.” Reese.
    “Bro.” Ryan.
    My disposable cell phone rang. The readout said it was Christopher. I handed it to Ryan because I was chewing. He answered, listened for a minute, shrugged, and hung up.
    “They just passed Shreveport. Won’t be here for like five hours.”
    Reese and I shrugged. That didn’t really affect us much.
    “Fruit loop?” I asked.
    “Yep,” Reese answered.
    “Are you talking in code on purpose today?” Ryan asked.
    “Gay town,” I said.
    “Is that some mythical queer talent or something? The ability to find any gay bar within fifty miles.”
    “Yes,” Reese lied for me.
    “Like gaydar. It’s queer magic.” I threw in some spirit fingers for good measure. He didn’t need to know I had looked it up online.
    “Okay, but I wanna get laid too,” Ryan said.
    “Not something you need to share with me,” Reese said.
    He shrugged.
    “I’m sure you can find a straight girl,” I told him.
    Ryan stared at me, all offended and shit. “She has to be hot too. Not just straight.”
    “I thought that went without saying,” I said.
    “You guys can keep arguing. I’m taking a shower,” Reese informed us.
    We let her. I figured I didn’t need to tell them I was going to be picturing her in that shower.

Chapter Four
     
    Reese looked fucking hot. Like too damn hot. Normally, that would be a good thing. But considering the number of women who had bought, or tried, to buy her a drink in the last hour, it was definitely a bad thing. She was wearing jeans that were quite possibly made for her ass. And the top was…Well, it wasn’t appropriate for the weather.
    Damn. When had I become a prude?
    “You’re gonna break something if you don’t relax.” Ryan posted up on the wall next to me. He handed me a beer. Then he handed me his beer. With both hands free, he grabbed my jaw and attempted to unclench