“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” I say lightly, throwing an elbow into Royal’s hip. “Right, big man?”
His jaw is so tight I listen for the sound of teeth cracking, but he doesn’t say anything.
We make it to the food line, and I reach for a plate, but Royal catches my wrist. “You’re a Dolce girl now,” he says. “Act like it.”
I think he’s talking about my flirting with Gloria, but then a freshman girl grabs a plate and steps in front of me, licking her lips nervously and glancing between me and Royal. “I’ll be getting your plate,” she says. “What do you want?”
“Um, to get my own damn food.”
Royal’s hand lands on the back of my neck, gentle but menacing, nonetheless. I know the violence they’re capable of. I remember his fingers around my throat at the tracks the first time we met, before I even knew who he was. Now I know how to walk the dangerous line in his presence.
“Everything,” I say to the girl.
Royal leans down, his lips brushing my hair. “Be good, and you’ll be the only thing on the menu tonight,” he murmurs, then releases his grip on my neck and steps aside to instruct his own waitress. A shiver of heat goes through me when I remember his mouth between my thighs.
Damn, he’s good.
“Do you get paid for this?” I ask the girl as she dishes tabouleh onto my plate. I need to get my head back in the game. I can’t lose focus for even a moment, or another player might take me out.
“Not with money,” she says.
“Sexual favors?” I ask, jealousy flaring when I think of what Royal just said to me.
She gulps, her eye bugging. “No! I mean, if they want, I would totally… But don’t worry. Today’s my first day serving. Royal would never pick someone who’s served him to serve his girl. That would be, like, disrespectful.”
I roll my eyes like it doesn’t matter, but I can’t help looking at the girl holding up Royal’s plate for his approval and thinking about his dick being in her mouth. Royal has zero respect for me or any other girl as far as I can tell. “Then I’d think that’s exactly what he’d do,” I mutter.
“Salad?”
“Everything,” I say again, not sure if I’ll get to go home and eat before the game.
“Right,” she says, fumbling the tongs like she thinks I might knock her teeth out for asking.
“So, you wait on the Dolces and service them, and they do nothing for you?”
Her face is beet red, and I think she’s starting to sweat. “Well, I mean, they’re the Dolces.”
She holds up my plate, and I decide not to torment her with more questions. I tell her it looks good, and Gloria links her arm with mine as we follow Royal, our three servers trailing behind.
“I’m not sure whose head is going to explode first, Royal’s or your server’s,” Gloria whispers, giggling into my shoulder.
We take our seats at the table, with Royal across from us. I’m not thrilled to have my back to the room, but watching Royal’s expression gives me clues as to whether I should be worried. He doesn’t watch with the same intensity as Baron, but unlike Duke, who’s flirting and clowning, knowing his brothers will alert him if shit goes down that he needs to know, Royal is always watching.
He might also be eating and offering a small smile to his brothers and buddies, and he might look casual when his eyes lift to the room behind me, but I know he’s absorbing everything. Just like at the start of class, where he doesn’t bury his face in his phone like everyone else. He’s aware of his surroundings at all times. Sometimes I have to remind myself that he’s more than the entitled king asshole around here. He’s also a kidnapping victim.
“We’ll be seeing you at the party tonight, right, Jailbird?” Duke says, a foot hitting mine under the table, bringing my attention back to the present. “You gonna wear something slutty like last week?”
“I hadn’t heard about a party,” I say, cocking a brow. “Thanks for making it awkward.”
He grins and lays an arm across the back of Royal’s chair. “My boy didn’t tell you about the party? Guess that means you can ride with me tonight.”
“No,” Royal says, not looking up from his plate as he spears a cherry tomato.
The guys all laugh like it’s the funniest shit ever.
“Okay, so here’s the deal,” Duke says, leaning forward across the table. “There’s a party after every game, not just last week. Crazy life we lead, huh?” He winks at me, waiting for my response with a big grin.
“And this one is at your house, but you forgot my invitation?”