The only reaction to Brandon and Silas conversation was a shake of his head and a look that kind of said. ‘What I am going to do with you two?’ Regan was often surprised that the two of them didn’t fight every five minutes when he was MIA around this place. “Forgive me, I never got the memo that said the liquor was up for grabs if everyone else was talking,” he remarked with a slight smirk. Laughing outright, Regan squared his shoulders and kind of held his head higher. “Nah, it’s not a head thing at all, it’s a ‘I look damn good in everything’ thing, but that’s usually the case with most things,” An ego was not necessarily something Regan truly possessed, which was what made his statement amusing.
Some people may not have noticed the subtle dig that Brandon took at Silas, but Regan wasn’t most people, and he also wasn’t going to let this whole night turn into moping and fighting. “Every guy listens better when the words are coming out of a women’s mouth,” His words had an easy tone to them, but his expression clearly told Brandon to lay off the comments about Rae. He was impressed when the other man held his hands up in the universal gesture of surrender, and also he was relieved. Anymore comments about the blonde Silas was choosing to spend time with and Regan was almost certain his friends would wind up brawling on the floor and he’d be left to pull them off of each other.
Regan let the comment about him having brought up Soli’s memorial go, mostly because he had been the one to bring the mood down. “That your way of telling us to shut up?” He asked, nodding when Silas commented that he should do some of the work. Regan had ever intention to help Leah with the whole thing; he was just going to let her have the design reins in all of it. “No, none of this shit should have happened,” Regan agreed, letting the whole conversation end with that.
Shaking his head, he just had to laugh at Brandon’s ‘happy drunk’ comment. “You know I’m always a happy drunk,” Or most of the time he was, before he had a reason to really be a mopey drunk. Shoving that thought aside Regan reached for a glass of his own and filled it up, downing the whole thing rather quickly. His own gaze traveling down the bar to where Silas had spotted the kids, a slight smile tugging up the corners of his mouth.
“Stone, if you’re throwing a bottle of gin into this bet, that mean you’re expecting me to be the one to go over there and razz those kids,” Hell, it might do him some good to do something like that.