He leans across the counter to hear what a pretty redhead is saying, then laughs and grabs an open white wine from an ice bucket, twirling it a little as he pours her another glass. “See?” Ashleigh says, leaning in to be heard. “Hot drug dealer.” My gaze judders over to her, follows hers straight back to the far side of the bar. “Miles deals drugs?” I cry. His gaze snaps sideways at the sound of his name. He lifts his chin in greeting, a smile pulling at one side of his mouth. “Wait, you know him?” Ashleigh asks. He drops the bottle back into the ice bucket and crosses toward us. “Order the
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