Harley’s P.O.V.
I couldn’t help but laugh at his epic entry.
“Depends! Are you gonna attack my friend?”
Derek’s grin widened, beaming into his face.
“No, I don’t dare, Whisker! You are so scary.”
I rolled my eyes and tossed him a bar towel. “Trust me, your new version is disgusting. I miss my cute, innocent friend.”
“Oh, come on, Whisker. You like my look!” He said, catching the towel effortlessly. “Admit it. I look like the baddies in our college!”
I shook my head, refraining from answering his query.
“Sit down, detective. Before you embarrass both of us!”
Derek sat on a stool, glancing around the bar like he half expected a pie to come flying from the kitchen.
“The moon bar is the same as before. You run this now?”
“Nah!” I poured him a drink, speaking casually.
“Manage only. I don’t own it. Not yet, anyway.”
“Give it a year!
You will have your own pack of underpaid servers here!”
Derek laughed, taking a sip of whiskey. I asked him.
“So, what brought you back, nerd?”
