Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Awkward dance moves – I’m sure I should be ashamed of – battling against out of date moves – Nolan should definitely retire – repeatedly send the beautiful brown skin beauty that’s literally taking my breath away with her hip twists into a giggle-based frenzy.
One more Queen song is played before the band announces a much-needed break, a break that in turn allows us to sit back down to finish our drinks and pay the bill.
Unfortunately for us, paying the bill becomes its own unpredicted problem.
“I can fuckin’ pay, Nolan,” I gripe on a hard tug of the leather holder. “Forfuckssake, man. I make good money too.”
“Yes, I’m aware of your fuckin’ allowance, Kid,” he bites back at the same time he pulls the object to him. “I pay it.”
“You don’t fuckin’ pay it.” The item is yanked back to me. “We share the goddamn business.”
“The garage, yeah. The towing, no. Therefore – and I know big word for you – I make more in this household and can afford more.”
“Don’t tell me what I can’t fuckin’ afford.”
“Don’t act like I don’t know what you can.”
“Don’t act like you know every fucking thing that I do.”
“Don’t act like I fuckin’ don’t.”
“You. Don’t.”
“You keepin’ more fuckin’ secrets from me, Kid?” His head tilts suspiciously to the side. “First the fact that you’re…” Watching his face crinkle has me shifting uncomfortably in my seat. “…whatever with me. And now something else involving money? You been doin’ extra gigs again? Runnin’ illegal parts for Marcus? I fuckin’ warned you about him.”
“I’m not doin’ shit for Marcus.”
“Then what extra money shit don’t I know?” To my surprise, he lets go of the holder. “And what else besides those two things don’t I know?! Since when don’t you trust me?”
“Since when don’t you trust me?”
“When did I say I don’t trust you?!”
“Why are you fuckin’ yelling at me?!”
“Why are you yelling at me?!”
“Enough!” Bunny forcefully interjects on an unsuspecting snatching of the bill. “I’m gonna pay for this shit.” She moves the object out of our reach. “And then we’re gonna go home and finish this conversation behind closed doors and not with an audience like you two have now.”
Her statement nudges my stare to steal a quick glimpse around at the other guests who are doing their best to pretend they weren’t looking.
Gawking.
Watching.
Judging.
Suddenly, the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up encouraging me to take a harder look around for a pair of eyes that are still lingering on me.
Us.
Not noticing anyone has my spine slightly untensing but the knot in my stomach staying.
It’s like hearing a car pull up to the shop and being able to instantly know from the engine’s sound what sort of neglect it’s suffering from.
It’s instinct.
And my instinct is flashing every fucking single warning light possible.
“I’m not comin’ home,” Nolan grumbles out during another attempt to grab the bill.
“Why?” Hurt invades my tone without my permission. “Are you really that pissed at me?”
His shoulders instantly sink to the ground. “Of course not, Kid.”
Relief slides into my gaze as Bunny hands the waitress our bill. “Then why aren’t you coming home?”
“Technically, on the clock.”
“You said you were takin’ off for our date,” our girl points out with a pout.
“And I did, fluffy tits.” The wink he shoots has her rolling her eyes. “I just…couldn’t take off for postdate activities like I originally planned.”
“Why not?” I rush to interrogate.
“Because.”
Not glaring is impossible. “Because what?”
“Let’s leave it at because.”
“Nolan.”
“What did I say?”
“Miles.”
“Fuck, fine. Spoilsport-”
“So. Old,” Bunny teases from behind her glass of water.
“Don’t make me put you over my knee in public, Rabbit,” he sexily scolds prior to presenting me with his attention. “I have to work now because I’m takin’ off all of next Sunday.”
Hearing the announcement immediately gets me shaking my head. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Too bad I already am.”
“What’s next Sunday?” Our lady cautiously questions.
There’s no time to brush it off due to Nolan replying, “His birthday.”
“What?!” She squawks in excitement along with disbelief. “And you weren’t gonna tell me?!”
I stretch my arm around the back of her chair, unconsciously called to shield her from something unknown. “It’s not a big deal, baby.”
“It’s a huge fucking deal, Kid,” Nolan forcefully disagrees at the same time the check is returned in front of Bunny. “And you coming into the world is like the invention of the car. It’s shit worth celebrating.”
Against my own volition heat begins to burn my cheeks.
“Do we already have plans?” Bunny pushes the folder to the side implying the woman can keep whatever cash remains. “Is that why you took off?”
Fuck. Me. Do I love hearing the word we.
And plans.
And knowing she has every intention of sticking around once I get those parts in her car.
“I got us tickets to the Mike & Ike.”