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Shit...now I really do want to piss myself because if DeLuca finds out that Ricardo knows all this because of me...I'm screwed.
I have no choice but to resort to plan b. I stick out my chest and press myself flush against him.
My breathing hitches when his eyes lock with mine, daring me to make my next move.
I slowly trace my finger along his jaw before ru
The electricity between us kicks up another notch and I slip my thumb past his lips.
That's when he bites me.
It's not hard enough to draw blood but it definitely doesn't tickle.
I pull my hand back and flap it around to take the sting out. “That hurt.”
His lips hover over my ear. “Consider that your warning. Stay away from my friends. Just go back home to the Hampton's where you can be a little mob princess and live off your sugar daddy.”
The sound of my hand slapping his cheek takes both of us by surprise.
“I'm not leaving,” I say.
He rubs his cheek and his jaw works. “You don't have to because once I tell Tyrone that you belong to DeLuca he won't touch you with a 10-foot pole.” He smirks. “And once I tell DeLuca that you fucked up and let me in on the real reason you're here—I'm sure you'll be long gone.”
I smile when the thought hits me. “I think you're forgetting something.”
“What's that?”
I wrap my arms around his neck and drag my teeth along the shell of his ear before whispering, “You won't have any friends once I tell them you're DeLuca's son and you've done nothing but lie straight to their faces for the past three years.”
The look he gives me could kill me right where I stand.
I lift my chin and push him off me. “Talk to you later, Ricky.”
The look on his face is priceless when I blow him a kiss and slam the door.
I have no idea what in the world I'm supposed to wear on this 'date'. Since we're just meeting at some bar and grill, I decide on a pair of jeans and a simple off the shoulder top.
To be honest, I don't even want to go in the first place. The jig is up— Ricardo knows why I'm here.
My short-lived freedom is over and DeLuca's going to be pissed.
I look through the glass window of the restaurant and see Tyrone sitting at a booth waiting patiently for me.
He checks his watch again and for a moment, I debate standing him up.
But then I remind myself that this is my very first date. And If DeLuca's going to kill me—because I'm not naive enough to think he won't—then I'm entitled to one last night of freedom.
Besides, there are worse ways to spend an evening. Tyrone's sweet, good-looking and he's got a great personality.
And unlike Ricardo...he actually seems to care about me.
I push my shoulders back and walk through the double doors.
Tyrone grins and stands up when he see's me. “Hey, you made it. I was starting to get worried.”
I slide into the booth. “Sorry, I lost track of time.”
He nods and the waiter comes by to take our order. I don't order much but Tyrone orders what looks to be the entire menu.
I start laughing until the waiter asks what we would like to drink. Tyrone orders a jack and coke...and me?
Well, I blink and stutter like a moron. I really don't want to drink.
Chances are Tyrone wouldn't think anything of it if I didn't order a drink, but I can't help thinking that normal almost 24-year-old's drink when they go to bars—and I want this one night of normalcy so bad I'm willing to do almost anything for it.
The waiter leaves and that's when my nervousness comes to a peak. I have no idea what proper date etiquette is or what I'm supposed to do.
I play with the wrapper to my straw. “Are you nervous about the fight tomorrow night?”
He takes a sip of his drink and winks. “Nah. Being nervous in the cage is like ordering a steak at IHOP.”
When I raise an eyebrow he says, “There's no point. You're there for the pancakes—why make things complicated and order steak? It's only going to make the experience worse and it won't do a damn bit of good. Best to just eat the pancakes and get it over with.”
His analogy is a little strange but I guess I can understand where he's coming from...sort of.
The waiter comes by with our drinks and appetizers and I pick at my food.
I've never been the kind of girl to watch my figure. In fact, I wouldn't mind putting on a little weight...but anytime I'm stressed or nervous...I lose my appetite.
I force myself to nibble on a few fries and try to ignore my glass of wine.
Tyrone gives me a fu
My first instinct is to lie and make up some excuse like ‘I had a big lunch’, but honestly?
I'm so sick of lying to people and I'm so sick of being forced to keep secrets, it's all I've ever known.
“I'm nervous. I can't eat when I'm nervous,” I tell him.
He takes a hearty bite of his burger. “Momma's not go
I drop the fry which was halfway to my mouth. “You told your mother about me?”
Jesus Christ, this is going way too fast...do guys normally tell their mother things like this?
“You should see the look on your face right now,” he says. “Relax, it's not nearly as bad as you think. I made the mistake of rushing her off the phone earlier and she wouldn't hang up until I told her why. So, I told her I had a date with my new neighbor named Lou-Lou. It's really not a big deal.”
I smile and relax against the booth. He's right, I need to stop freaking out. “I take it you're close with your mom?”
His eyes light up. “Yup, born and raised Momma's boy and proud of it.”
“That's sweet.”
“Everyone who meets Momma loves her, you can't help it. She's very overprotective over her boys but she means well.”
“Oh, so you have brothers?”
He wipes his mouth with his napkin. “Sure do. Jackson and Ricardo.”
I'm speechless....I knew they were friends but I had no idea they were so close.
I fight the twinge of guilt that snags me while recalling what I threatened Ricardo with earlier.
Telling them the truth will change everything for him...he could lose them.
But then again, he did threaten to rat me out to DeLuca...and he should know better than anyone everything DeLuca's capable of.
No, fuck Ricardo. I'm not giving him an ounce of my sympathy.
My thick wall of self-preservation goes back up. It's the only way to protect myself. It's all I know.
Tyrone's eyes grow soft and he reaches for my hand. “You okay?”
I pull my hand back and open my mouth to answer him but a wall of muscle plops down next to me practically crushing me.
I'm bewildered when I look up and Jackson's eyes bore into me. “How are you doing, Lou-Lou?”
“I'm fine,” I say. “How are you?”
He reaches for a fry but Tyrone swats his hand away. “What are you doing here?”
Jackson feigns offense. “Wow, can't a friend enjoy another friend's company?”
“Sure,” Tyrone says. “Just not when said friend is out on a date.”
Jackson gestures between us. “You mean this is a date? Darn, I'm sorry, guys.”
I think he's going to get up and leave but to my surprise, he drapes his arm over the booth. “Well since I came all this way I might as well stay.”