Page 10

“Are you saying my company is unwanted?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, okay. I wouldn’t want your food to get cold, anyway.” He stands up and shoots me a wink. “They’re on the house. Just remember to make me the best man at your wedding this time, old man.”

“I’m only a few years older than you.”

He just sticks out his tongue as he walks away, and I drop my head in my hands.

“I’m going to kill him.”

A glittering laugh bounces around me, and I look up to see Verity doubled over in her seat, one hand clutching her stomach while the other covers her mouth.

“I’m so sorry,” she wheezes in between breaths. “I just wasn’t expecting that.”

“I should’ve expected it,” I sigh.

Bringing her here was an oversight on my behalf. Sonny’s always been more like a younger brother than a friend, and he’s the definition of ‘work hard, party harder.’

I nudge one of the plates closer to her, hoping to steer her attention away from him. The last thing I need is for her to tempt him to come back and start spewing stories of the crazy things we used to get up to.

“Here, try one of the wings.”

She swipes at a tear under her eye before reaching forward to pick one up.

I realize my mistake three seconds later when she lets out a deep moan of approval, even going so far as to shut her eyes momentarily.

My cock stirs in my pants as my mind pictures her making that same face but with her lips wrapped around my dick. I subtly attempt to adjust myself before grabbing a wing of my own, trying to get my head out of the gutter without her noticing.

“You were right. These are great. I can’t believe I’ve never heard of this place before.” She polishes off the wing and quickly picks up another. “This makes up for missing the food at The Brass Stop.”

“Glad you approve.”

“Mhm,” she hums in agreement. “Any other speakeasies you recommend?”

“Is that your way of asking me on a second date?”

“I–No–This–This isn’t a date.”

“Sure, sure. It’s just two strangers eating wings, sipping cocktails, and secretly pining.”

“I am not pining.”

“No? Just me, then?”

She narrows her eyes. “Are you making fun of me?”

“Why would I do that?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I’m still a little sensitive about the whole failed-date situation. I have a bad habit of trusting men too easily. Of letting them lead me on. I open up and pour myself out, not really hiding much. My roommate says it’s both a strength and a weakness. Given my track record, I’m starting to doubt that it’s a strength at all. Ugh, I’m doing it again. Running my mouth for no good reason. I’m sure the last thing you want to hear is me complaining.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Really?” Her tone is doubtful. “You want to hear me lament about my failed love life?”

“No one has a perfect love life.”

Least of all me.