Epilogue - Dean

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As promised, here's the epilogue in Dean's POV. 

~

"Fucking hell, Reece," I grumbled as he grinned lazily back at me.

For a quick moment, I allowed myself to look over the bastard. He looked rugged and roughed up. His hair was cut short and his body had hidden scars, barely visible to the eye. Gang life was treating him rough, just like he liked it.

"Come on, we have to pregame," he cheekily smiled. How he had so much energy? No idea. It's not like I was the only one on a red-eye flight hours before this. "Plus, I need to scout out the venue beforehand for hot babes."

Hmm... hot babes. Weddings were good for noncommittal sex, right?

"Fuck it," I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Yeah, let's do it. Hopefully, the bartender doesn't think we're alcoholics."

Reece let out the biggest snort as he finished buttoning up his shirt. "First of all, since when do you care what others think? Second, my man!" He clapped my shoulder with a stupid proud grin.

"You act like I don't go out."

"Oh, you go out, but you don't try anymore. It's refreshing to see you attempt to pick up chicks this time."

I froze, giving him a look. "Is this why you invited me to your friend's wedding?"

He sauntered up to the mirror and double-checked his appearance before nodding in approval. "You know my date ditched me."

"Right, your date." I was convinced he didn't have a date in the first place. It only made sense, considering he was ready to scour the so-called 'hot babes' here. If that was his plan all along, why would he invite anyone with him?

He ignored me and grabbed his jacket, motioning for me to grab mine too. We were hitting up the wedding right after. Was it smart to walk into a church slightly drunk? No. Hopefully, the guests wouldn't pay us too much mind. Besides, we could really let loose at the reception.

By the time we got to the bar, it was mostly filled with businessmen trying to unwind after a stressful day. A few sleazy men were hitting on the female bartender. She was a good sport and humored them. Coincidentally, she was also raking in the tips. Impressive.

I should hire more female bartenders.

As if Reece could read my thoughts, he dragged me to the bar, ordered two bourbons, and grinned. "How are the bars going?"

"Good," I replied as the bartender slid us our drinks. I acknowledged her with a nod while Reece, like the lighthearted man he was, smiled and winked at her. Gross. "The two in Manhattan are running smoothly. I'm thinking of opening one near Illinois though."

Reece hummed as he took a sip. "Near Illinois, huh? Would that perhaps entail Michigan?"

Why did I even try to be evasive with Reece? He somehow always knew what I was thinking, even when I didn't know myself. Maybe that's why he managed to get a side job as a shrink.

"Perhaps," I shrugged, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. It wasn't a hard task. "It has a lot of good memories." Now that wasn't a lie.

He snorted again. "You lived there for probably a total of a year and a half. I'm sure other places have better memories."

I chose not to deign him with an answer. Instead, I tipped back my cup and finished it in one gulp. Reece waved over for more but I declined. I needed to drive to the venue and take care of Reece. If he chose to drink a lot, I'd need to rescue his ass like I always did.

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