Page 63 of Damaged Protector

“Honey, I’m going to order some wine,” Scott said, and it took me a second to figure out that he was talking to me. “Is red okay?” He was tapping on the menu, his stubby finger pointing at a bottle that was priced over five hundred dollars.

“Do. Not. Call. Me. That,” I snapped, and he reared his head back before covering his shock with a chuckle.

“Oh yeah, bruh. I forgot.”

Bruh. I guessed it was better than honey.

Mackenzie’s eyes met mine, and we did that silent girl-communication thing, consisting of a lifted eyebrow here, and a head tilt there. Her lips pursed and she patted her husband’s arm.

“Sweetie, I think I’m going to powder my nose before we order. Mallori, why don’t you join me?”

“Certainly,” I said. “My nose could use a bit of powder just now.” And Scott’s nose could use a left jab.

As soon as we entered the opulent restroom, she whirled on me. “Okay, what the hell is going on? I’m getting a weird vibe here.”

“That,” I said, pointing a finger toward the dining room beyond the door, “is not my boyfriend.”

Her eyes rounded. “Oh hell. I suspected something like that from your reaction.”

“This was supposed to be a fun night out with friends, not… whatever that is,” I griped, flailing my arms around wildly. “What exactly did he tell you?”

“Well, we met at the pool a couple weeks ago, and then last Sunday, we saw him out there again. He said he’d love to buy us dinner and have us meet his girlfriend.” She shrugged. “We agreed because he seemed like an okay guy. A bit of a braggart, but...”

“No shit,” I bit out, counting the days back in my head. “The little asshole. That was the day after he asked me to go, which, for the record, was the first night I met him in person. So he planned this entire thing afterward.”

“Sounds like it. Trav and I were just excited to come because we can’t afford fancy dinners like this on our budget. We’re newlyweds and both about to start grad school.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “We don’t even live at that fancy apartment complex. A guy Travis worked with gave us the code because the pool at our complex is always this weird shade of green.”

I gave her a kind smile. “I’ll never tell.”

Her eyes lit with a wicked glint. “You should totally order everything on the menu and rack Scott’s bill up.”

I giggled. “That would be funny, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of paying for my meal. I think I’ll just order the cheapest thing they have and pay for it myself.”

“He’s pretty annoying. He doesn’t stop talking about himself, and…” She paused and leaned closer to me. “Does he say bruh a lot?”

Holding my stomach, I laughed heartily. “Yes, and it drives me crazy. We should take a drink every time he says it, but then we’d probably end up with alcohol poisoning.” Mackenzie’s body shook with laughter. “Hawk calls him Scotty P.”

“Oh. My. God. The guy from that Jennifer Aniston movie?”

“Yes, We’re the Millers,” I told her, giggling at the memory of Hawk remarking about it when we watched the movie together this past week.

“He does remind me of him. If you replaced you know what I’m sayin’ with bruh, he could be a perfect match.”

“Don’t forget the No Ragrets tattoo.”

She rolled her eyes and grinned. “I mean, he obviously comes from money. He was bragging about his dad being a federal judge and that he’d bought him a Porsche for his sixteenth birthday. So why does he talk like that?”

“I think he thinks it makes him sound cool. Hell, I don’t know.” I gestured toward one of the stall doors. “While we’re in here, I’m gonna…”

“Yeah, me too.”

When we were done and washing our hands, Mackenzie eyed me in the mirror. “Who is Hawk? Is he someone in our class? I swear, it’s going to take me months to learn everyone’s names and faces.”

“No, Hawk is my roommate.”

“Oh, are you two…” She bobbed her eyebrows suggestively up and down.

Something deep inside me clenched at that thought even as I shook my head. “No, just friends. He’s really hot though.”

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