"Hey Cap," he answered.
"What are you up to?" Something clanked in the background on Eli's end of the line.
"Uh," Blair looked down at Snickers, who gazed up at him imploringly. "Feeding carrots to my dog."
"... Right." "What's up?"
"Barbeque at my place tonight. You're more than welcome." Another clank.
"Who all is coming?" Blair asked, figuring he knew the answer already. He just had to know—was Eli really going through his phone book and calling everybody on the team rather than sending a group text?
"Whoever wants to. Everyone's invited."
Laughing lightheartedly, Blair hauled himself up into a sitting position.
"Only you would call us all personally for a dinner invite rather than texting."
"You're more likely to say yes if I call." And damn, Blair was. He had a point.
"You are so old," Blair said with feeling.
"Come over whenever," was all the reply that got him. Then the click of a dead connection.
Easing up off the plush black leather was something of a challenge.
