5
Dillon
“You’re looking tired, Dillon,” my Aunt Annabeth said when I walked up to the bar.
My cousin Gabe’s parents ran the local bar and grill. The theme was half biker bar, half sports bar, and it was one of my favorite spots in the world. Great food, free drinks, and the best company in the world.
“I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” I retorted, shooting my aunt a grin as she slid a dark beer my way.
“Your cousins are over there,” she said, lifting her chin toward the large booth in the corner, by the pool tables.
“Thanks, did they already order?”
“Yeah, what are you having?”
“I’ll take the Philly, extra cheese.”
“You got it.”
“You’re the best,” I told my aunt as I picked up my beer and took a drink.
“Mmmmhmmm,” she muttered, then took off toward the kitchen.
“Look who the cat dragg
