No sooner had Marcus made his speculations on Clint's whereabouts, the bloke walked up and joined them. It was almost laughable at how predictable they lot of them were. Always sat at the same table and always ordered the same thing. It made the job of the waitresses rather easy ... unless they got a little rowdy and in the boys defense, the last time that had happened it had been the girls' fault. Lexi and Katie's, that is. Adrian had the pleasure of knowing that Emma was never going to find herself starting a bar fight ... and if she did, no one would bloody believe it anyway.
At Clint's question, Marcus shot him an irritated look over the rim of his glass as he took another drink. "It's fucking, how do you think it is?" he shot back, raising an eyebrow. He really didn't get what was so interesting with him and Bell shagging. One would think he didn't know what sex was with the way he kept asking about it. "Which you should probably make the most of while you still have it. Fifteen to Twenty percent of married couples have sex no more then ten times a year. Enjoy falling into that statistic."
Adrian snorted at that and shook his head. "I think they'll be fine," he responded, dryly. Given the fact that this was Clint and Lexi, he really didn't see anything to worry about. Clint alone was enough to ensure they didn't fall into that small percentage and Adrian had had the misfortune of listening to Lexi's sex-deprived rants prior to their relationship taking form. He had never wanted to hear so much description about the quality and/or shape of his cousin's arse.
Of course, he didn't really want to hear them talk about Marcus shagging Katie either, so he pulled something else out of the conversation hat. "How's nationals going?"