Triple Time. Regina Kyle

Cade winked at the vendor and gave her a twenty. She blushed and handed back his change and two beers, one of which he passed to Gabe. “Ten bucks says next round I get her number.”

      “No bet.” Gabe shook his head. He wasn’t an idiot. Women flocked to Cade. He had an easygoing charm Gabe had never been able to master. Plus, the guy looked like a California surfer: buff, blond and perpetually happy. The polar opposite of Gabe, who had once been called Heathcliff on the moors by a particularly astute lit major he’d dated.