Kane patted his butt. "I see through your pathetic excuse to touch it."
My stoner brain was taking over and I was about to get maudlin. Nope. Time to put happy sloshy brain back in the driver's seat. I motioned to our server for another pitcher, but he was super harried and didn't see me, so I nudged my brother, who was busy eye-fucking some guy at the bar.
That was wrong. He should have been eye-fucking Kane. No. Ew. "Less catting around, more paying attention to your tablemates."
"You're just jealous you can't sample what is so readily available," Ari replied, twirling a finger around the bar.
Excuse me? I tapped my fork dangerously against my plate. "Because I accidentally crazy-glued my legs shut?"
"Because of he-who-shall-not-be-named," Kane said, disarming my weapon before swiping a wing from me.
The men fist-bumped.
"Voldemort?" Peeved, I stabbed the wing back. "No problem. We're just good friends."