“Oh yeah, we frighten all the ladies when we do nothing but stand silently in the middle of the doorway.” Emmett rolled his eyes, laughing.
We walked out differently than how we came in, feeling more responsible for and possessive of our little Pin-up. Tomorrow night, we’d take her with us, get our insurance, then the three of us would have to figure out how to keep her safe with no repercussions from her association with us.
Because now, this undeniable urge to keep her happy and healthy beat at me.
Anything less was unacceptable.
Chapter Seven
Milo
It had been years since the guys and I had hibachi. Not really the elite dining establishment of the upper echelon, this style of restaurant never made it into the places our families frequented during our childhood. We’d branched out since college, specifically when it came to pizza or wings. The one time we had come to a hibachi restaurant, it was with a group of drunk frat brothers. It had been an okay experience, nothing to write home about, although the food was great.
There was definitely something to be said for going in a small group, especially when one of the group enjoyed it so much. Elise laughed and giggled at all of the chef’s jokes, encouraging him to toss more and more inappropriate innuendos her way. At one point, the man asked her in what I believed was a fake broken English accent, if it was her birthday.
She had answered no, but he only shrugged with a boyish grin, shaping out a fucking penis with the rice, so the tip faced her. He squirted a bit of the yum yum sauce so it looked like the rice penis ejaculated and said, “That’s ok! Make a wish and blow anyway!”
She fell in Emmett’s lap from laughing so hard. Emmett leaned back, rubbing her back while smirking. Even Jules watched with one corner of his mouth curling up.
Mid-backrub, Emmett asked, “Should we break out the sake?”
I laughed and shook my head. Elise was already slap happy. If we liquored her up, she might try and join the chef behind the grill. “No, I think it’s unnecessary.”
Then it was time for the chef to fling shrimp at us from the end of his spatula. Elise clapped her hands, bouncing in her seat. “All right, boys. Now’s the do or die time. Who’s going to win?”
All three of us straightened with mock serious faces, giving all of our attention to the shrimp flinger. Effortlessly, we all caught our shrimp. Elise went last, and she caught her small piece with ease.
“What?” she had said. “I’m more surprised you rich boys caught the shrimp.”
Emmett used his chopsticks to dip a broccoli floret into the yum yum sauce, leaving his other hand on her back. After she sat up, he just never removed it, and she didn’t seem to mind. “Pin-up, come on. We’re guys, and we’re in a frat. Did you really think we’d never tried to catch popcorn with our mouths?”
Her nose scrunched up. “Pin-up? What the hellisthat? You’ve been calling me that all day, now that I think about it.”
Emmett’s eyes bugged out, like he was afraid of how Elise would react to the answer. The chef wisely ignored the conversation, focusing on the actual cooking now that the show was over. Elise narrowed her eyes on Emmett, then me, and finally turned to Jules.
“Jules, where did Pin-up come from, and why?”
He was not prepared to be asked this question, his brows popped up in surprise, and his gaze darted to me. I shrugged, he could answer it however he wanted to. And we’d all have a good laugh at Emmett, since he was the one that dubbed her Pin-up.
“I know you can type your answer out, so stop stalling.” She nodded at his lap and waited as spatulas of chicken and shrimp landed on our plates.
With exaggerated slowness, he pulled his phone out of his pocket, probably trying to figure out how to answer. This was new. Why did he suddenly care if he hurt her feelings or offended her? Why did weallsuddenly care?
The changing point for me was when the girls in The Purge called her our whore. It wasn’t even a shocker. I knew, just as the guys knew, it would be the obvious conclusion people drew from Elise constantly being in our presence. But seeing it was vastly different than just knowing in the back of our heads it would happen. It became real, and as the reason behind it, I felt about two inches tall. I was suddenly my father, stepping on anyone regardless of the consequences to get what he wanted.
The businessmen in the Infinity network were ruthless and savage, buying and disbanding companies, orchestrating massive layoffs that in some cases, led to homelessness. That was only the more legal side of the network.
Jules showed his phone to Elise, and studied her with sharp eyes while we all waited for her reaction. Especially Emmett, who still had his hand on her back, as if his touch alone would dispel any anger she could possibly feel.
She read the message. Maybe a few times, since she stared at the phone until all the food was delivered to our plates. Then she harrumphed under her breath.
“I don’t even know what to say. You three have a funny way of making me question my initial responses. I’m equally flattered that you think I look like an old school pin-up girl, and miffed you think it’s okay to pass out such chauvinistic nicknames.” She leaned back against her seat, causing Emmett to readjust quickly, because he was damned determined to keep his hand on her back.
“Babe, that’s our thing. We nickname everyone and everything. The twins are, on occasion, called Frick and Frack. We’re going to see a guy tomorrow, and his nickname is not nearly as nice as yours. So really, you should be more flattered, and not miffed at all. You can make up nicknames for us, if it makes you feel better.”
On the other side of Elise, Jules rolled his gaze to the ceiling. He’d done something very similar a couple times since we decided we were going to try sharing a girl. I laughed, and Elise speared me with a heated glare.
I dug into my food. “Don’t look at me like that. Emmett’s answer was funny.”