"I wouldn't say it's just likely," Harlow said dully, arching his brows at Adelaide. Anyone who saw her brother, who saw the swagger to his step and the occasionally cocky tilt to his smirk, knew that he was no virgin. Harlow had never quite seen a man who embodied "chick magnet" quite so well, really. "Your brother is like, throat deep in pussy. He fucked at least three of my friends. That skanky guard at Grand Central could tell you all about it, she has a big mouth about Rodeo Ride."
"Ah," Harlow nodded, though he didn't look particularly convinced. He already had his theories regarding Adelaide and Cutter. He fancied himself enough of a gossip king to sense all the hot news before the subjects themselves even were aware of it, and he would absolutely have bet his right hand on Adelaide and Cutter's magnetic attraction to each other.
Harlow's brows shot up at the sight of the ring and he reached out, grabbing her hand and pulling it closer. He inspected the ring, whistling low and shaking his head. "Damn, bitch," he laughed, releasing her hand after a moment and lifting his gaze back to her face. "So you really are engaged, huh? Are you drunk enough for me to ask about that yet?"
Harlow practically glowed at the praise, his smirk widening into something nearly genuine. It was extremely rare for him to tell someone that he was responsible for the graffiti, and he could count on one hand the number of people he had admitted it to. None of their responses had ever pleased him quite as much as Adelaide's, though. He liked his work, and usually that was enough for him-- but the admiration certainly didn't hurt. "Ooh, sweetheart, you just became my new favorite person," Harlow practically purred, leaning in and kissing both of Adelaide's cheeks. Her words sparked a pleasant sort of happy energy in him, and the next moment he grabbed her hands, shifting up to kneel on the bar. "Get up here."