Fingers are drumming idly upon the tabletop as Rafe listens to the aimless prattling between Kelce and Topper—sometimes the two were worse than girls, always consumed with the latest OBX gossip, exchanging little stories they had heard from some unnamed but assumably trusted source. Sometimes he even ponders how the three had come together and became friends in the first place, though he simply recalls that it had something to do with being young, forced into playing golf at the country club, and wallowing in an unhealthy amount of amassed familial wealth.
Maybe that was really the only thing the three had in common? Save for Topper occasionally banging his little sister, but of course, that was neither here nor there and he would prefer not to remember that specific tidbit at the moment. Instead his attention was on the sight of a seemingly oblivious brunette who was tending to a family a few tables over, grinning broadly, scrawling swiftly into her notepad as she takes their order.
She was dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a white t-shirt with the logo of the restaurant on it. Her hair is tied up in a loose buns, ringlets of curls neatly falling out of its confines as she saunters toward the back to put in the order. She tucks the pencil behind her ear as she goes and doesn't even spare him a glance; she probably didn't know he was there at all, all things considered, as the three had chosen a spot toward the back of the restaurant where they could overlook the water.
It isn't until he hears a familiar name mentioned that his interest in piqued at all. Rafe seizes the movement of his fingers and instead of straightening up in his seat, merely flickers his gaze to Kelce, who is wiggling his brows playfully at Topper. The brunet looks on, sparing a fleeting glance to Rafe, as the latter continues to speak:
"Oh, yeah. Word on the street is that Maybank is hitting that," Kelce gushes, nodding his head in the direction of Kiara, who disappears behind swinging doors to assist in kitchen prep, "and by hitting it, I mean in all ways, from the side, the back, you name it!"
Topper manages to look unimpressed, knowing he doesn't have a dog in this fight. Not to mention that the girl in question was best friends with his ex-girlfriend didn't improve the matter either, just made it far worse, so he remains mum on the subject. He knows he should respond, however, and simply offers a meek nod of the head, "yeah, that—... I have no words, and no opinions, 'specially about Maybank of all people."
The brunet slides the tip of his tongue across the back of his teeth as his mouthy friend continues, making crude gestures, snickering as he does so, "she would never stoop low enough to fuck a Pogue," smooths Rafe as he presses his tongue into his cheek, attempting to reel in the fury that threatens to spill over.
Kelce wears a look of amusement at this, "I beg to differ. She's always with him, Heyward's kid, and John B.," he pauses then wears a conspiring smirk, eyes bright and devious as he slides his gaze to Topper, "you don't think she fucked all three, do you?"
"—Kelce—"
Rafe darts a hand out toward Topper, ultimately silencing him, "no, no let him finish. I wanna hear this, Top."
Always one to embellish and increase in volume once he knows he has a captive audience, Kelce is wearing a sleazy grin now. He nods his head in her direction as she goes to a different table now to refresh their drinks, starting some small talk, "I mean, just look at her, I bet she rides dick like a champ—"
