Page 27 of This Thing of Ours

He should be used to it—the emptiness and loneliness—and he had been until a week ago when he’d kissed Gabriella, and everything had changed. It had been stupid. He had been stupid. He still wasn’t sure what the fuck had come over him. He usually had better control than that.

Putting his beer back down on the table, Marco remembered Frankie had asked him a question, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what it had been. Leaning slightly forward, he shouted over the pulsing beat, “What?”

“I asked, what’s got your boxers in a twist? You know, you’re even more surly than usual, and that’s saying something.”

Marco glared his direction, not bothering to answer as he leaned back in his seat, bringing his beer with him and taking another sip.

“Leave him alone,” Johnny said in his defense.

Johnny was the pretty boy of the group with his light hair and blue eyes. Frankie, not so much, but the girls still flocked to him. The girls flocked to him, too. Marco wasn’t sure why, as he never gave them any encouragement.

“He probably just needs to get laid,” Johnny added to his last statement.

Marco swallowed his beer wrong and coughed, Johnny’s comment hitting way to close to the truth.

Frankie flashed a cocky grin. “Think you hit the nail on the head, Johnny Boy.”

With uncannily perfect timing, three women walked up to their table. They fit in perfectly with the club scene—short almost non-existent dresses, too much makeup, and hair out to there—but he couldn’t say they weren’t pretty. The petite brunette on the end was especially cute, and he willed his dick to take notice. Sadly, it didn’t. It was only interested in the one woman it couldn’t have.

“Good evening, gentlemen. Care to buy us drinks?”

Frankie stood and with a bow said, “Our pleasure.”

A blonde slid into the u-shaped booth scooting close to Johnny. Frankie sat back down, and the other blonde slid in next to him. The brunette settled in next to Marco.

Johnny signaled for the waitress who hustled over on her high heels not wanting to leave any of Nico’s boys waiting.

“What would you ladies like?” Frankie asked, wrapping his arm around the back of the blonde and pulling her closer to his side.

She gave him a wide smile, revealing a set of blindingly white teeth. “I’ll take a Long Island iced tea.”

Johnny looked down at the girl next to him. “And what about you, cara?”

“Oh, my name’s not Cara, it’s Tammy.”

Marco almost snorted out the sip of beer he’d just taken.

Frankie didn’t bother holding back his laugh, explaining, “Cara is an Italian endearment.”

Tammy’s cheeks turned a bright red, and Marco felt uncomfortable in her embarrassment. Trying to make her feel better, he said, “It’s a completely understandable mistake.”

Tammy gave him a small smile.

“He speaks.”

Marco gave Frankie another glare for opening his big mouth.

“I’ll have a Cosmo,” Tammy said into the silence.

Marco figured it was his turn to ask the girl sitting next to him what she wanted. He turned his head to look down at her. She was already looking up at him, her lashes fluttering, and her lips parted.

“I’ll have a Cosmo, too,” she whispered to him, so he had to repeat her request for the waitress.

Once the waitress had gone, the blonde next to Frankie asked, “So, what do you boys do, all dressed up in suits and shit?”

Frankie chuckled, leaning back and taking the blonde with him. “We’re in business.”

“Oh, yeah. What kind of business?” Tammy peeped from next to Johnny.

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