Gray winks at me, and I laugh.
The gleam in Drew’s eyes grows. “Gray would never damage that car. I mean, he looks so good driving it.”
The guys all chuckle. And Gray coughs out, “Asshole.”
Drew ignores this and leans back with a laugh. The guy is ridiculously good-looking in a chiseled, clean-cut way with light brown hair and eyes. Gray and Drew sitting side by side, with their muscled physiques taking up a good portion of the booth, look like a comic book come to life.
They catch me staring and both say, “What?” at the same time.
Smiling, I shake my head. “Nothing. I just had this image of Thor and Captain America having a beer.”
They both color at the same time. Which is kind of cute.
“Ha!” cries Anna at my side. Her cheeks plump with a wide grin. “I had that Captain America thought about Drew too.”
Drew perks up. “You did, huh?”
Gray snorts. “Dude, I’ve just been compared to Thor. I totally win.”
“What the hell does Thor have? A little hammer?” Drew waves a hand as if to say, please.
But Gray smirks. “At least he isn’t hiding behind a wussy shield. Thor is a god. Enough said.”
“A boring god with the personality of a post,” Drew volleys.
“And you’re saying Captain America isn’t boring? Dude. He doesn’t even understand modern culture. He’s like a 1940s Boy Scout.”
Drew and Gray eyeball each other for a second. Then Drew relents with a laugh. “Touché.”
“And Thor reigns victorious in battle!” Gray throws up his arms in a touchdown gesture.
All the guys groan. Someone lobs a balled-up bar napkin at Gray, who neatly bats it away.
“Are they always like this?” I ask the table.
“Always,” Anna mutters, but she’s laughing.
Dex, who is massive and wears a full beard, shrugs. “Sometimes they slap each other’s heads around too.”
“Quiet down there, Bruce Banner.”
Dex rolls his eyes at Gray.
“You disagreeing with that assessment, Cupcake?” I ask, grinning.
Instantly Gray groans loud and long, and his friends start to choke on their shock. And then my mistake hits me. Oh, shit. I ought to know better. Give a bunch of football players a new nickname to play with and they’ll eat it up.
“Ivy,” Gray chides. But it’s too late—all his friends are on him now.
“Cupcake?” says Rolondo, the hot, lean guy with the dreads sitting in the middle of the round booth. His smile is blinding. “Oh, hell no, I’m not letting that one go.”
With another groan, Gray presses his face into his massive hands.
“Glamour Cupcake. Sounds about right.”
“Cuz he’s sweet, pink, and oh, so pretty.”
Between his fingers, Gray’s blue-eyed glare promises retribution. And I grimace, giving him what I hope is my best sorry-I-ruined-your-life look.
“I distinctly recall Gray claiming to have a gooey center,” Drew remarks with an evil grin.
“Now, now, pudding cup,” Anna drawls at Drew, “you shouldn’t throw stones. You’re all sorts of gooey inside.” She gives me a conspiratorial wink as Drew sits up in his seat with an irate scowl, and the guys laugh.
“Low blow, Jones.”
“Ah, but you love me anyway, Baylor,” she answers with cheek.
Drew’s expression says she’s right.
Gray, however, is far from free. Rolondo sits back in the booth. “So, Ivy, aside from hanging with Cupcake, here, you go to school in the area?”
“No, I graduated last spring from Sarah Lawrence. I spent the summer and fall with my mother in London. I’m returning in March to manage one of her bakeries.”
Rolondo’s brows lift a little and it seems he’s struggling not to look at Gray. “That’s cool. I don’t know how you bakers do it, getting up so early. That would kill me.”