Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 167257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 558(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 558(@300wpm)
I followed him with my arms crossed until we reached one of the bays already packed, brimming with bodies and inebriated faces—some I recognized, most I didn’t.
“About time,” Roc grumbled as he swaggered over to meet us. “Started to think you weren’t coming.”
“You stay on my dick just like a ho,” Rowdy playfully snapped as they clasped hands to dap each other up.
Boys and their secret handshakes.
“Anyway.” Roc waved him off. “We reserved two bays since more of these fuckers showed up than we invited.” His attention then shifted to me. “Hey, little girl,” he teased.
“Hey.”
“Damn, you dry. Fuck I do to you?” Unlike Rowdy, who was terrifying, Roc wasn’t the least bit intimidating—at least to me—when he was upset. His confused gaze bounced between Rowdy and me before settling on his boy, and whatever Rowdy’s look conveyed—his back was turned so I couldn’t see—seemed to settle the issue. “Oh, aight. Little sis giving your ass the blues, huh?” Roc cackled as he turned on his heel and walked away.
Rowdy mumbled something about shooting him, but I ignored him as I followed Roc into our assigned bay, feeling Rowdy’s gaze on me the whole way.
It was overwhelming being surrounded by so many unfamiliar faces. Luckily, I found an empty seat at the end of the L-shaped sectional next to Golden. Even sweeter, I wouldn’t have to worry about making conversation since he, you know, never talked. He didn’t even acknowledge my existence when I sat, which I was more than fine with me.
“Ya’ll right on time,” Roc said as he tapped the screen of what looked like a small TV with a larger one right above it. “We’re about to start the next game. Jailbait, you in?”
I knew Roc was talking to me even before his humored gaze found mine, and now every assessing eye in the bay was on me.
“Sure…Rochendrix.” His full name earned a few snickers as I knew it would.
“Good. We’re playing teams, and you’re on Golden’s. He cheats, so you might actually have a chance of winning.”
I didn’t respond as I waited for Golden to deny the claim. I should have known better. Golden continued to eat his wings as if Roc hadn’t spoken.
All right then. “Whatever you need to tell yourself to keep from crying on some poor girl’s shoulder tonight, Rocky.”
I heard a low and raspy chuckle, and—could my ears be deceiving me? I whipped my head in Golden’s direction, searching his still visage for proof that the sound had come from him. He wordlessly picked up another lemon-pepper wing from his platter and tore into it, giving no indication that he had.
I sighed.
They said nothing worth having was ever easy.
I’d make Golden Boisseau speak to me.
“Just make sure ya’ll broke asses pay up when you lose,” Rowdy dictated as he muscled his way through the other eight or nine people gathered around the bay to study the golf clubs. “Or you’ll be going home with a golf ball lodged in your cranium.”
I noticed how most of the other players were female, and I didn’t like how their gazes had lit up when he’d arrived. They followed him now, just waiting to be chosen as if he hadn’t come with someone.
“And that’s why we’re not playing for money,” Roc said as he snatched away the club that Rowdy had chosen.
“Why not?” Rowdy was frowning now as if the reason was truly a mystery to him.
“Because your ass is crazy, and ain’t nobody trying to end up in ICU over a couple of hundred bucks.”
Rowdy shrugged. “If they pay, they won’t have shit to worry about it.”
Some light-skinned bitch wearing a busted lace front and a cheap dress better fit for a nightclub giggled as she leaned forward, showing off her tits spilling out of the bodice. Even more annoying was that it worked. It caught Rowdy’s attention.
And now he was gazing down at her as he toked on his blunt, like this whole building wasn’t a non-smoking area. But like Golden, his face didn’t betray his thoughts as he perused the smorgasbord in front of him.
“Aye, get your ass up,” he told her. “My feet hurt.”
“Oh…sorry.” Her cheeks were red now, and I almost felt bad for her, but any sympathy I started to feel for her went right out the window when Rowdy took her place, then pulled her onto his fucking lap.
Rowdy gave her his undivided attention, and with each passing second, I became hyperaware of everything. I could hear my heart beating, feel my body flushing, and the hairs rising along my skin.
Somehow, I missed my hand darting out and curling around the handle of the dirty steak knife someone had carelessly left behind. I was oblivious to it until warm fingers wrapped around mine and gently wrestled the knife away from me, tossing it on the table out of my reach.