Page 13 of Clubs

“It is.” My voice came out firmer than I’d intended. So firm that she shot me a glare more volatile than I had seen her give in a long time. Which was saying something for how often we argued. “I don’t want you to pay for this. You didn’t do anything. I’ll handle it.”

“You didn’t do anything either. And I already gave her the check.” Brows furrowed, she huffed. “This doesn’t have to be a big thing.”

“But this is a big thing. So just wait for me to run inside and grab the money—”

“Why? Why is every single thing a fight with you, Declan?”

“How is me wanting to pay you back for my lawyer starting a fight?”

“Your attitude is what’s starting a fight. I don’t care about the money. I care that you’re being a dick for no reason.”

“If you didn’t care about the money, then you wouldn’t care about me giving it back to you.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. Is this some”—she altered her voice to sound like a caveman—“I man, you woman, things? Because God forbid I pay for dinner, right?” Again, she lowered her voice. Sounded just like her caveman imitation. “‘It’s a man thing, Brooke. People see me letting my girl pay for our dinner, and they think I’m a shitty boyfriend. Don’t put me in that position, meh, meh, meh.’”

“I don’t sound like that.”

“That is exactly how an emasculated man sounds.”

“You call me a dick, and that’s all well and good, but you don’t think it makes you a bitch to find pleasure in emasculating your boyfriend?”

“I think when he’s being an insecure caveman, he could use a little emasculating.”

“I think if I said that about you, you’d throw a bitch fit.”

“Alright, you know what.” She jarred the car into the right lane so fast, I bonked my head on the panel between the front and back seats. Slamming the car into park, she unlocked the car doors. “You wanna see me be a bitch, here we go. Get out.”

Laughing, I shook my head. “Drive the car, Brooke.”

“Little old me?” This time, it was a southern bell impersonation. “I’m just a silly woman. I don’t think I can, sir.”

“This isn’t because you’re a woman—”

“No, it’s because I’m a bitch.” Her tone was playful, smile no different. But there was the slightest pinch in her raised brows that said she was, in fact, pissed. “So go on. Get out of my car.”

“You’re seriously gonna make me walk.”

“It’s been such a long night. Fresh air might do you some good.” Reaching past me, she fumbled for the door handle. When it clicked open, she gestured to the open field. “We’re only a few minutes from Spades. Ten-minute walk. You can handle it.”

I snorted again. She kept smiling. “C’mon, Brooke. Drive the damn car.”

“I’m such a bitch. And this is what a bitch would do.” Again, she gestured outside. “She’d also expect an apology once her grumpy ass boyfriend has gotten the stench of jail off his clothes and a nice nap.”

“You’re dead serious right now, huh?”

“As a doornail.”

I held her gaze a moment longer before realizing just how serious she was. She was annoyed, not mad. But I’d gone toe to toe with the bull, and bulls didn’t bluff.

Laughing again, unsure if I was annoyed or aroused, I unbuckled my seatbelt. “I’ll remember this.”

“I bet you will.”

I got out of the car and slammed the door shut. I propped my arms on the open window and glared at her inside. Glared, but smiled. Cars whooshed past, making the cool air whip around me as they flew by. “I’ll remember it the next time you’re begging me to let you come.”

“Just make sure you call me a bitch then, too.” She smiled and glared as well. “At least degrade me when I can get off on it.”

“It’s gonna be a while before I let you get off again.”

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