It wasn’t like Silas was surprised. Brandon was Brandon, after all. But it was a relief that Regan didn’t play into his dumb dig. “Whatever,” was the only thing he bothered to say, letting most of his irritation ebb away at Brandon’s actions. It wasn’t like he hadn’t taken a dig or two at Lexi when he’d been irritated with Brandon, and he didn’t have the same longstanding dislike that Stone had for Rae. “You’re too damn confident about kicking my ass, though.” If anything, they’d proved that they could both give as good as they got.
Silas might be better with mopey people, out of three of them, but that didn’t mean he wanted to test his skill. So he breathed an inward sigh of relief at their exchange, interjecting his own comment, “Nah, man, you’re an idiot drunk.” About the only time he’d seen Regan do some truly dumb things was when he had liquor in his system. But, in all honesty that was pretty rare; the idiot thing. It really wasn’t exaggeration that Jones was the brains.
Stupd suggestion or not, it seemed to do what he’d intended. “Looks like,” he commented when Regan made the observation that Brandon expected him to do it. “They don’t know you anyways, it’ll get a better reaction.” Even if they’d never had a run-in with Brandon, most people knew who he was. “Besides, you’re getting shit out of the deal.” He made a gesture like ‘what are you waiting for?’ and raised his eyebrows. All Regan had to do now was take the bet.