“How about twenty questions?” I ask.
“I hate twenty questions.”
“How about five questions, then?”
He cracks a smile and lifts an eyebrow. “How about three?”
“So, have I mentioned how much I fucking hate Tuesdays?” Brandi’s voice cuts right between us. Xander looks relieved.
Me? Not so much. “Damn it, Brandi!”
“Oh nothing. Can you grab me Fireball though? Pretty please. Two of them.” I look at Xander. “You’re taking one.”
“Three. I am too, bitch! Fuck Tuesdays!” Brandi calls out from across the bar as she begins filling the shot glasses from the Fireball chiller.
“Question one. You said you’ve been traveling for a while now, right? Do you ever get tired of it? Ever feel like settling?”
“Damn. Starting out with the heavy hitters, huh?” He eyes the shot glasses as if hoping it will somehow make them fill faster.
“Need me to go easier on you? Maybe a finger or two first before I go in with the whole fist?”
He looks at me in disbelief. “Did you really just say that?”
“Just answer the question, two fingers or three?”