Chapter Thirteen
Tyrell
With the third Tequila shooter down, I sat back in the chair and let out a holler that made me feel lighter. Dark, dank, and smelling of booze, the place matched my soul at the time.
“You want me to get another round, Tyrell?” Cash asked as he eyed the attractive barmaid.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?” I laughed, picking up my mug of beer. “I have this for now, you know?”
“Yeah, but having another shooter in front of you, in case you start on another tangent about Ella and how she’s such a pain in the a*s, might be helpful.” He got up, walking to the bar without me even saying anything to him.
I looked at Jasper. “Cash has been here almost every night.”
He jerked his head in the direction of the bar. “Looks like he’s got the hots for that bartender, Bobbi
