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“I don’t know. Running drugs, killing a guy or two.” Her brow rises, but there’s a smile on her lips. “Anything but wearing that and coming to the most exclusive restaurant this town has to offer.”
“I must admit, the first two options do sound more appealing, but sadly, you’re stuck with me. And, if you’re lucky, I won’t even kill anyone.”
She laughs, and I smile with her. She likes to joke about my previous life, but I’m not sure she realizes that almost e
verything she says is true.
I didn’t lie to her the day I told her I wasn’t a good person. I guess it says more about her than it does me that she’s willing to overlook it all, whereas I’m the selfish motherfucker who didn’t give her a chance.
“Come on,” James calls, making my muscles tense instantly. “We need to go, we have a reservation.”
Heaven forbid we make the place wait for us.
I roll my eyes and slip my hand into Remi’s to pull her back toward the limo. Letting her climb in first, I pretend it’s because I’m a gentleman. That’s bullshit, I just want to stare at her ass as she bends over and try to figure out if she's got any panties on or not. My cock swells as I picture her bare pussy beneath the silky fabric. Biting down on my cheek, I picture laying her out on my bed later and pushing the fabric of her dress up around her waist, eating her until she’s coming on my face.
Fuck, this is going to be a long ass evening.
“Have you ever been in a limo before, boys?” Sarah asks politely.
I’m about to bark back an equally dumbass reply when Conner speaks up.
“I’m not sure a limo has ever been to the Heights. If it had, it probably left looking a little different to how it arrived.”
Both Cole and I chuckle, clearly both picturing a similar scene.
“Okay, well… I think you’ll like The Blue Bay, the food is out of this world.”
“Do they have those fancy little portions?” Conner asks skeptically. He cares more about the amount of food he’s going to get tonight than he does about having to wear these god awful suits.
“Um… some of them can be on the smaller side. But I’m sure there will be plenty.”
The drive across town is awkward as hell, and it doesn’t get any better when we turn off the main road down a private driveway leading to the restaurant.
“Fucking hell, that’s impressive.”
“Language, Conner,” James barks, looking anything but comfortable with us all together. He keeps looking between me, Remi, and our joined hands like he’s going to shank me any minute.
You’re not getting out of this quite that easily, motherfucker.
The restaurant is more pretentious than I expected, and I hate it from the moment we walk through the doors. Everything is either perfect white or chrome. The floor-to-ceiling windows showcase the almost three-hundred and sixty degree view of the Bay beyond, and when I ask for a beer the waitress turns her nose up like I’ve ordered a glass of shit.
“Champagne for the adults and orange juice for the kids, please,” James says, stepping in.
“Kids?” I ask incredulously when the waiter has walked away. “None of us are fucking kids.”
“You’re under twenty-one, so no alcohol will pass your lips tonight.”
I scoff and sit back in my seat. Remi’s hand brushes up my thigh, and I reach down to wrap my fingers around it as I try to keep my cool.
I don’t want to fucking be here, pretending that we’re the fucking Brady Bunch.
It’s bullshit, all of it.
“What the fuck is this shit?” Conner asks, his eyes wide as he stares at the menu before him. It might as well be written in another fucking language for all the sense it makes.
“Just pick what meat you want and the rest can be a surprise,” I tell him as James’ eyes drill into the top of his head. “What was wrong with a normal restaurant where we can wear normal clothes and eat normal sounding food?”
“It’s Remi’s birthday, she deserves the best.”
