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The bar is already crowded when we arrive. Fitz makes a point of looking around to all of the busy tables and then back to me, solidifying the fact that this fight is in fact a big deal.

We wander through the darkly-lit space, packed mostly with men, until we find an empty table near the back. We then proceed to shed our heavy layers, balancing them in a heap on one of the vacant pub chairs. Fitz selects a seat that provides him with optimum viewing angles of the fight. I sit facing him so my eyes won’t betray me and wander to the screen when something happens and distracts him.

“No fucking way!” Fitz says with a laugh, scooting his chair back so he can stand up. My gaze turns to watch him as a heavily tattooed guy embraces him. They each pat one another on the shoulder as guys do, and then break apart, still smiling at one another.

“What in the hell have you been up to, Maxwell?”

I watch Fitz smile warmly at the guy and turn to look at him again. He has two large dimples that seem to enunciate the quick smile he wears that looks like a permanent fixture on his attractive face. His eyes are a bright blue, lighter than Max’s, which are a brilliant cobalt. He looks about six feet tall and appears strong as I watch his forearm muscles bulge as he gives Fitz’s shoulder another firm pat. If I didn’t already know that Max is the single most attractive male on this planet, this guy would be a contender.

“Danny, this is Harper Bosse. Harper, this is Danny Hirsch.”

“Nice to meet you, Harper.” Danny turns his smile on me, revealing slightly-slanted bottom teeth. The imperfection makes him even more enchanting. He reaches forward to shake my hand, and my eyes quickly register that both of his ears are pierced with small gauges and his right forearm is covered in a flame patterned tattoo.

His skin is so warm against my own that it distracts me from all of the noise surrounding us, and my eyes look down to see his hand wrapped around mine. “You too,” I reply, meeting his eyes and quickly realizing I’m not having to remind myself to smile.

“Grab a chair! Are you here with anyone?” Fitz asks, gesturing to the empty seats.

“Frank’s in here somewhere, but you know him,” Danny replies. He lifts a vacant chair and moves it so he’s sitting between Fitz and our cold weather gear. “I’m on a break until next week and wanted to see the fight with a crowd. See what I’m up against.”

“Danny’s a pro fighter,” Fitz explains. “He and I used to have a mutual acquaintance.”

“How is Miguel?” Danny asks before a waitress wearing a white T-shirt with a deep V-neck approaches us. Her reaction is instant, confirming that she either knows Danny or recognizes him as she gives him a big smile and practically touches her chest to his bicep.

“Danny! Oh my God, I can’t believe it! Would you sign my shirt?” It isn’t a question, but a desperate plea.

Danny turns his attention to her, and I watch as he flashes her his easy smile and nods, keeping his eyes level with her face. At first I’m impressed by the fact that he seems completely undeterred by her impressively large assets as he signs the shoulder of her shirt, then it dawns on me. Miguel is one of Fitz’s exes. Danny’s gay too. It sends a tremor of humor through me that the first guy I’ve deemed attractive since Max, other than Fitz, is another gay man. I’m sure Kendall would be going out of her mind with hysterics about this situation, but I slouch slightly with the relief that fills me.

Danny hands our waitress her Sharpie back, and turns to us as though this is a completely normal practice. “What’s your poison?” he asks.

“I’ll be the DD. Have whatever you’d like,” Fitz says, passing me a drink menu.

“But first we’re having a round of Patron,” Danny announces with his smile still present. “I’ll also take a sidecar.”

“Jameson neat, please,” I say without reviewing the menu as the waitress looks to me. She jots it down on her notepad and then retreats.

“So what’s new with you? Are you still in the medical field?” Danny asks, leaning slightly closer to Fitz. “Is that how you guys know each other?”

Fitz nods. “Yeah, I’m actually working at a medical lab now. Harper’s my assistant. Lucky for you, I’m pretty much the only person she hangs out with. She’s new here, from California.”

“California, really?” Danny asks, turning his smile on me. “I can see that whole LA scene going,” he says with a nod.

“I know. She is pretty hot, huh?” Fitz says rhetorically as he eyes me with a teasing smile. I’m not sure why, since they’re both gay and their compliments are completely benign, but they make me blush.

“Here you go, handsome. I added a pitcher, on the house,” the busty waitress says as she places five shot glasses on the table along with a pitcher of beer and three tall mugs. Fitz slides my whiskey over along with a shot of Patron as the waitress makes eye contact with Danny. She smiles seductively at him while chewing on her bottom lip—something few people are able to pull off and look sexy—but I can tell she’s practiced this look.

“Normally I wouldn’t do this, but…” she trails off, moving the drink tray she’s holding so it’s secured to her waist with her elbow. She pulls a pen from her apron and reaches for a drink napkin and then begins scribbling across it. Dropping her pen back in her apron, she lifts the napkin and blows on it provocatively. My eyes widen at the deliberate message she’s sending him, and I reach for my whiskey as she slides the napkin in front of Danny. “In case you want to have some fun.” She winks and then turns without acknowledging me or Fitz.

“It’s good to know that some things never change,” Fitz says with a grin as he takes his shot glass. “I think she’s lying to you about not doing that very often though, D. That looked like a well rehearsed move.”

Danny crumples the napkin in his fist and laughs in agreement.

“A toast to Miguel,” Fitz says, raising his glass in the air. Danny raises his shot glass to meet it.

“I have something against toasting to things and people I don’t know. It’s bad luck.”

“I know Danny because of Miguel,” Fitz explains simply, nodding his head toward Danny.

I’d like to point out that I connected those two dots, but sigh quietly as I raise my glass as they wait for me. “Okay, to Miguel.”

I wince as the alcohol burns my throat and warms my breath.

“Have you spoken to Miguel lately?” Fitz asks, setting his glass on the table.

“No,” Danny shakes his head. “I haven’t seen him since he met Grant when we were in New York last year.”

“I heard that ended badly.”

I know little about Miguel other than that he’s a trainer and a Greek God reincarnated. At least, that’s what Fitz assures me of.

“It’s nice that you guys can be friends after dating the same person. Last year a girl invited us to a roach restaurant because my older sister had made out with her ex. Granted, he hadn’t been her ex at the time. At least I don’t think he had been …” I stop and try to recall if that clarification had ever been made.

“What?” Fitz cries.

Danny chokes on his drink of beer, and begins coughing, his face turning a bright shade of red. “Harper, I swear to God, you live under a damn rock! Danny’s not gay! Are you paying attention?”

“Miguel! Ex boyfriend! Left to travel as a trainer with his lover. I was paying attention!”

“His lover wasn’t Danny!” Fitz exclaims and then begins laughing uncontrollably as he mutters half coherent words.

“You aren’t gay?” I ask, looking to Danny.

“No. No, I’m definitely not,” Danny answers, shaking his head. He releases a good natured laugh as he continues to shake his head.