Granted, a struggling diner in the middle of a slowly dying city, or quickly dying, depending on who you ask, isn’t the restaurant of my dreams. But still. The dream I entered school thinking about—owning my own business one day, making people happy, concocting delicious menu plans with the chef partner I was sure I’d find in college—that seems a lot more pie-in-the-sky (no pun intended) now that I’ve experienced the daily reality of this industry.
Amanda’s still staring at me, waiting for an answer, so I shrug one shoulder and try to laugh it off. “Probably the same thing I’m doing now. I’m not that creative.”
Her lips purse again in an I-don’t-believe-you expression, yet she doesn’t call me on it. “Okay. So, what about this guy made you break your not-dating-till-debt-free streak?” She runs an eyebrow pencil along her brow with expert precision, feathering in the line so neatly that it just looks like her eyebrow is growing darker and thicker before my eyes, not being drawn onto her practically white-blonde facial hair.
That’s a good question. What is it about Xander Stone that has me acting like a damn high schooler?
Yet there it is. I have actual butterflies in my stomach. Battering my guts in a whirlwind every time I close my eyes and picture his strong square jaw, his glacier blue, piercing eyes boring into mine. That line of stubble on his cheeks, and above all, his big, strong hands, the muscles in them flexing whenever he wrapped them around his glass at the diner last night. Something about those hands—those dangerous, rough, strong hands—makes me want to throw myself headfirst into his grasp.
“His hands,” I admit, and Amanda bursts out laughing.
“What, is he a pianist or something?”
“Definitely not. Those babies are way too calloused.”
“Okay, so big hands are your thing. I mean, promising start, I’ll grant you that. That’s all it took to get you to go on a date?” She smirks, and my cheeks go red again.
“He was also sweet as hell.” I pause, reconsidering what I just said before I twist my lips to the side. “Okay, sweet might not be the right word. Complimentary as hell? And … I don’t know.” I groan and rest my forehead on the mirror. “He’s gorgeous and looks like he could totally wreck me,” I grumble against the glass.
When I steal a peek at Amanda again, that knowing smirk has widened. “You’re in trouble, honey.”
“That’s a stupid reason to date someone, isn’t it?”
But she’s shaking her head. “Oh no. That’s a great reason to date someone. You just better hope he’s the kind of guy that’ll stay around to put the pieces back together after he wrecks your world.”
Despair must show on my features, because she slaps my back after that, in what she probably means to be a reassuring pat. “Don’t worry,” she says. “When it comes down to it, that’s always the gamble, no matter who you go out with.”
Somehow that doesn’t make me feel any better. But I force a smile onto my face, and turn the topic to Amanda’s impending date instead.
At least I’m not the only one going into battle tonight.
5
Stone
“Have you made progress yet?”
I’d tell Rich to go fuck himself for asking that question so soon, but he hasn’t even bothered to call me. He’s got his fucking lapdog, Man Bun, doing it for him. “Tell your master I’m working on it.” I put my truck in park outside Skye’s apartment and study the windows as I speak.
“He wants a progress report. Now.”
“In-fucking-progress. It’s been one day, what does he expect?” I shove open the door and swing my legs out. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m about to make more progress. That is, if you stop calling me every ten minutes to ask what I’m doing.”
“This is an important job,” Man Bun replies, his tone dead serious. “It’s a lot of money. We need to make sure you’re handling it as quickly as possible.”
“You want me to do it well or you want me to do it fast?” I slam the truck door, the sound echoing across the empty lot.
“Both, if you know what’s good for you.” He disconnects before I can give him a more detailed description of where he can shove his thick fucking skull.
It’s like he knew where I was, and what’s been running through my head all day. I don’t want to do this to her. I don’t want to lie to her, or put her in this situation. Never mind that her brother’s the one who got her into hot water; I should be the guy getting her out, not turning up the heat.
But it’s not like I have a choice. If it was only myself I had to worry about, it wouldn’t be an issue. I’ve been around motherfuckers like Rich my whole life, they were the reason I ever stepped foot in a ring, and I’ve never been afraid. Not even after I stopped fighting and the money stopped trickling in. The problem now is that Rich will go after people I care about. My own family—what’s left of it. Skye. Hell, Rich’s already breathing down her neck.
My only option is to make sure she learns nothing. After this is all said and done, after this last job is finished, I’ll throw her over my shoulder and carry her off into the sunset. Then neither of us will ever need to think about this shitty place again.
She’ll never need to know about Rich.
I jam the phone in my pocket and cross the parking lot to press her buzzer. It only sounds for half a second before the door flies open and