Hanging up from the call with Audrey, I focus my attention on the patrons of the Kitsch Kitchenette. My large frame looms over a reggae-humming white boy sitting in a beanbag chair while typing on his tablet. No doubt he believes he’s writing the next great American novel. Undoubtedly, the world waits with bated breath for the mind vomit from a douche wearing a Freddy Kruger sweater.

“Leaving town?” Lottie asks from behind the coffee counter.

Keanu’s girlfriend of a year manages the White Horse “lukewarm spot”—as my dad calls it—where hipsters hang out to be seen not caring if they’re seen. I admit the place is full of pompous fucks, but Bianca Bella came up with the idea, and a few other local chefs jumped at the chance to offer up weird little meal ideas that wouldn’t fit in a typical restaurant. So Cricket picked an empty storefront, got it organized, and handed the management responsibilities over to a young Indonesian immigrant with ever-changing hair colors and a degree in business. Keanu took one look at the shaggy-haired pixie and drooled himself into a state of dehydration. After a few months of relentless stalking, she agreed to a date with the boss’s best friend. Once she got a taste of Keanu Slater, Lottie was a lost cause.

“Tomorrow,” I tell her before walking around the counter to get away from the humming douche. “Audrey needs me to drive up and remind her of the hunk she’s missing. Plus, I’ll pack her up and drive her down here.”

“It’s cool you’re finally into someone besides Bianca Bella.”

Frowning, I wish Keanu kept his big mouth closed. “BB was a crush I had when I was a kid.”

“And you’re not a kid anymore,” she says, finishing my thought. “I just meant that people get in their heads what their ideal person is and sometimes they can’t find someone real who fits that ideal. I’m glad you have.”

“Yeah, Audrey’s something special,” I mumble, smiling at the memory of her sweet pout. “I can’t wait until she lets loose with me. I doubt I’ll be able to walk when she’s finished.”

“TMI, Cap,” she says and steps away.

“I mean, lets loose with her love.”

Lottie gives me an unimpressed side-eye. “Oh, sure.”

Grinning at her expression, I imagine Audrey behind the counter soon. She’ll get plenty of tips from the hipster twats looking to make nice with the hot brunette. It’ll kill me not to kill them, but Audrey needs to make money in the beginning.

If I’m the only one with cash in their pocket, she’ll worry I’m in charge of everything—just like her parents are in Ellsberg.

So I’ll let the hipster twats add to her bank account.

“Your bro is here,” Lottie says, glancing up from her tablet.

I assume she means Chipper, but I spot Keanu climbing off his Harley.

Four years older than me and eight inches shorter, Keanu and I have always made an odd pairing. His aunt Ruby is my mom’s best friend. His stepfather, Dayton Rutgers, is the VP of the Serrated Brotherhood Motorcycle Club in nearby Hickory Creek Township, while my father's never been a fan of the biker gang. On paper, we don’t scream best buds, but I’ve always found his chill demeanor to be addictive. Other kids bored me, and I never made friends outside of my family and Keanu. I’m a big believer in quality over quantity.

Keanu enters the Kitchenette and gives a dismissive head nod to Lottie. I frown at their cold vibe but say nothing as I follow him outside.

“Are you two on the out?”

Keanu shakes his head. “There’s a regular customer who leaves her huge tips. Now it’s not as if Lottie leads him on. She just doesn’t tell him about me,” Keanu says and gives me a sly grin. “It sounds fucked up to tease a loser, but Lottie’s always saving up the money to send to her family back in Bandung. It’s important to her that they have a good life since she does here.”

Keanu stops talking long enough to level a steely glare at someone eyeballing him as they drive by. Old timers around these parts sometimes go nativist when they spot a non-white. If it bothers Keanu, he never mentions his concerns. He just likes to give them a dark stare and make them lock their doors.

“This guy,” Keanu continues when the sedan is out of sight, “writes lame poems to Lottie. Sometimes, she and I get drunk and read them to each other. Most of them involve comparing her pussy to flowers. You should come over sometime, drink up and recite a few.”

“What if he tries something with her?” I ask, thinking about my plan for Audrey to flirt her way into extra tips.

“He won’t. The guy’s stalking like six women around White Horse. He likes the idea of wooing them. If any of those women showed the least bit of interest, he’d stop showing up to their work. I know because one woman got dumped by her boyfriend and decided to slum it with the stalking weasel. He told her that he was moving to Qatar, even though they live two blocks from each other and were bound to see each other around town.”

“Didn’t Chandler on ‘Friends’ tell Janice he was moving to Qatar?”

“How the hell would I know?”

“Shit, I need to check, or that question will bug me all day,” I mumble, pulling out my phone to go a quick search. “No, he said Yemen.”

“Glad you got that nagging question settled. I still think you’re a lame butt munch to watch generic crap like ‘Friends.’”

Despite his bitching, I sense—because I can read the fucker like I can the guy in the mirror—he knows “Friends” better than I do.

“I’m driving to Ellsberg to see Audrey tomorrow. You need to keep an eye on my usual haunts while I’m out of town. Chipper and Cricket are busy with their newest offspring, and I don’t trust them not to forget.”

“Shit’s moving fast with this Kentucky chick.”

“She’s my Lottie. When I saw her, I had one of those reactions like a horny cartoon with my eyes popping out and steam shooting from my ears. Real mature feelings for sure, but she’s getting nervous about moving here. I need to show up in her hometown and steal her away from her old life.”

“You said she’s a handful. Is that code for psycho bitch? If yes, how will you steal her away without her kicking your giant ass?”

“No, psycho bitch is too strong a description. She’s Cricket without Chipper.”

“An insecure troublemaker with no backup, huh? Sounds like the perfect clusterfuck for a man like you.”

“Exactly. See how you just fucking understand the shit in my head.”

“It’s a gift.”

“You be sure to remember this happy fucking feeling when Audrey starts working at the Kitchenette and Lottie gets to complaining about the insecure troublemaker.”

“Don’t mess up my love life, asshole,” Keanu growls, glaring fearlessly at me.

“No promises. To keep Audrey in White Horse, I’m willing to take a few casualties.”

“If you scare off Lottie, I will cut you, Blunderbore Bitch.”

Smirking at how he always reaches for an insult of the Beanstalk variety; I cross my arms and glower down at him. “You know blades don’t kill giants.”

“I’ll shoot you then,” he says, fighting laughter. “Or hit you with a stolen semi?”

“That last one might hurt.”

Keanu shakes his head. “How long will you be in Kentucky?”

“A few days at the most. I don’t like leaving town for long periods. Enemies might be tempted to view Chipper and Cricket as whipped. Neither of them has killed anyone in a while. People get dangerous ideas when I’m not around to scare them.”

“Your dad is here.”

“Sure, the man is terrifying, and he can still bust asses,” I say and then add because I know Dad isn’t around to bust my particular ass, “In a fight, he also might fall and break a hip.”

“Well, tickle me fucking pink. If you mess up shit with Lottie and me, I think I’ll just send Hayes a bottle of Vitamin D. Oh, and a message stating you’re worried about his osteoporosis, and I thought this would help.”

“Well played, Short Round.”

“Fuck you with the Eiffel Tower.”

“Kinky,” I say, patting the top of his head and making a run for my Harley.

The fast little fucker manages to nail me in the ass with his foot before I get to the curb. I spin around to grab him and maybe pound him a little before he retreats into the hipster paradise.

Except Keanu moves like a cat and has already put too much distance between us. I glare at where his smiling face appears from inside the restaurant. He waves at me, looking just like the little kid I first met. His hand then shifts into a fist before a triumphant middle finger appears loud and proud for my benefit.