“He’ll change his mind when they adopt a kid.”
We change the subject, talking about Nico and Jared’s restaurant we’re supposed to eat at tonight, and go through half of our beer before the bedroom door opens ten minutes later.
Thalia smiles, pleased with how I eye her up, then glances down as if to check what has me so satisfied. She’s wearing the same outfit she wore the day we met—a black high-waist skirt and a crop top. “Good? Or not fancy enough?”
“Perfect.” I hold my hand out, silently asking her to come closer so I can pull her in for a kiss. That’s how I want to have her all the time. Close. Mine.
“Come on, lovebirds! I’m starving.” Kaya yells and stilettos toward the door while I sink deeper into Thalia’s mouth.
“If you want to continue the make-out session, do it in the car,” Nico says. “Just keep it PG-rated, alright?”
“I promise nothing,” Thalia chuckles, inching away.
I pat her butt, knot our fingers, and follow my brother and hisgirlfriendto the car. Shit, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to Nico dating anyone. Come to think of it, I probably shouldn’t. He’s too unpredictable, vicious and downright intense to make a relationship last.
I’ve not had a chance to visit Nico’s restaurant yet, but once we step through the door, I pause to admire the place. It’s far from what I expected, given Nico’s the owner. Instead of luxury dripping from every detail, the space is intimate and elegant. A dimly lit room filled with two and four-seater tables, a grand piano on a raised platform in the middle of the room, and a fish tank wall behind the bar, with yellow gobies and clownfish curiously swimming back and forth.
The waiter leads us to a round table tucked away by the window, the harbor visible in the distance, bathed in the hue of orange lamps. Dusk is fast approaching, with the first rays of pink and purple cutting across the cloudless sky and reflecting in the calm waves.
Romantic as fuck.
Thalia sits opposite me, next to Kaya, who impatiently flicks through the wine list.
Not how I imagined this double-date thing, but maybe it’s for the best. I don’t think I’d do much else other than touch Thalia if she were closer. I was asleep when she came home from a waitressing gig last night and still sleeping when she left for work this morning. Almost twenty-four hours without her is a bit too long to stomach. I’m whipped and not afraid to admit it.
To myself... in my head.
Thalia orders for the both of us: grilled lobster tails for starters and smoked salmon for the mains. Nico, such aman-man, chooses a steak, and Kaya settles for pasta, filling us in about the new marketing strategy she’s working on to attract a younger crowd to the Country Club.
“We’ll host monthlyUnexpected Truthparties at the Country Club from now on. The first one is in three weeks. It’ll be so much bigger than what you’ve seen before.”
“You should think about live music,” Thalia says. “Start with local bands, and once the word-of-mouth gains momentum, think about inviting someone more famous.”
“Uh-oh.” Kaya clears her throat, eyes darting over my shoulder, then to my girlfriend. “Dean’s coming over here.”
Thalia jerks her hand from mine, trying to fuse with the chair. I don’t like that reaction. Not one fucking bit. My head snaps to Dean, who stops at our table, arms crossed, and eyebrows drawn together. He sways from left to right, unsteady on his feet as if he’s wearing heels instead of brown leather shoes.
“Wow!” he breaths, glaring at Thalia. “Now I know why you ditched my calls and stopped serving me on the course. Iknewthere was more to this.” He points between Thalia and me, “But I thought ’you were smarter, babe. I believed you when you said you weren’t screwing around with Theo.”
I’m on my feet in a heartbeat, my hand clasped around his throat. “And I thought you were smarter than mouthing off to my girl. If I find out, you so much as look at her again, this will end badly for you,” I hiss, shoving him back.
“What’s your problem?” He sways on his feet, backing away. “Don’t act like you give a shit!”
“Out, Dean,” Nico clips, holding my arm to stop me from going after the dipshit. “Now. I won’t hold him back if he decides it’s time to make you bleed, and we both know you won’t come out of that with your face intact.”
Dean eyes us both with comical astonishment comparable to that of a New York taxi driver who gets tipped a dime. What the fuck is it about my stance that leads him to believe I won’t go after him if he says one more word?
Do I look like I’m messing about?I don’t think so.If I did, Nico’s fingers wouldn’t be bruising my bicep.
Dean readjusts his jacket in one forceful tug and turns around, stumbling between the tables, his step unstable. He almost trips over his legs, sauntering toward the bar. Nico motions to the restaurant host to take care of Dean, then yanks my arm hard, forcing me back into my seat.
The ashen hue of Thalia’s cheeks gives way when I catch her hand, brushing my thumb over her knuckles. “What did he say to you when you went out with him? And why aren’t you serving the asshole?”
“He said you’ll throw me out of your house when my holes stop meeting your expectations,” she explains in a dismissive tone. “I got in his face. I think he finds women who don’t let bullshit slide appealing, though. He admitted the flowers were from him and wouldn’t stop hitting on me since. I asked Jared to get someone else to serve him when...” she hesitates, cheeks turning scarlet, “he smacked my ass.”
Nico grips my arm again to keep me in place, but my blood boils, and hell stirs in my head, sputtering like an old engine. I think he can relate because his hold loosens and features pinch. I know that look. The storm in his eyes is a sign he’s changed his mind and is now ready to help me serve Dean some justice.
“I’m sorry,” Thalia utters.