Page 15 of The Omega Trials: Part Three

I know the power a good, hard fuck can have on a man, but shit, I haven’t seen Titus this laid back since way before the Trials started. Hell, if we gave him permission to touch Sinclair earlier, he might have a full-blown career in stand-up by now.

“Okay, but listen, bro, just ‘cause you’re getting laid now doesn’t mean you can replace me as the funny guy of the pack, okay?”

“Ecker,”Sinclair hisses and kicks my shin under the table.

I balk. “What—”

“Welcome back, boys.” Barb, the server and resident ballbuster, appears from behind me, setting bundles of silverware and menus on the table. “Sinny girl, good to see you as always.”

“Thanks, Barb, you too.”

“I already know what the lady’s gettin’, but you boys need a minute?” she asks, twirling her pen between her long red fingernails.

“Please, thank you,” Bishop says politely with a warm smile.

She gives him a wink. “Alright then.”

“Oh don’t you start.” I groan at him. “If Titus starts making jokes and you start charming moms, what’s going to be left for me? MILFs weremything.”

Sinclair laughs. “You can have the moms.” She gives me a smirk. “I’m pretty sure Barb’s a grandma.” She turns to Bishop and gives him the same playful look. “Speaking of, I didn’t know you liked them older?”

“I like them short and blonde and . . .” He grabs her around the waist and pulls her onto his lap. “A pain in my ass,” he teases, nuzzling into her neck and pressing a kiss behind her ear.

“You just described Barb.” She giggles and leans back into Bishop’s touch.

“I’m gonna be sick,” Titus mutters with an eye roll, and I laugh.

Well, I guess a good fuck can’t fixeverything.

Sinclair’s like a feral street dog—it takes a lot to gain her trust and affection. She’s scrappy, defensive, not scared of shit, and ready to fight at the drop of a hat. She’s softened a lot since we first met, but like any street dog, old habits die hard.

I’m reminded of this fact when I try to dip a fry in her ranch dressing. She gives me a look that asks how much I like my balls being attached to my body.

I pull my fry back in surrender, and she gives me a sugary sweet smile. “Good decision.”

“Vicious.” I chuckle and shake my head.

“You gotta respect a woman’s right to ranch.” She laughs then smugly takes a bite of a sauce-dipped chicken tender. She finishes then asks, “What’s your ‘ranch’?”

“Your pussy,” I reply matter-of-factly, and she nearly chokes on her sweet tea.

Once she recovers, she clarifies, “I meanwhat’s your favorite meal?”

I tongue my cheek. “I know what you meant.”

“You’re ridiculous.” She blushes, fighting a smile. “Okay, fine, what was your favorite meal growing up?”

“Microwave nachos, hands down. The way the cheese would get crispy and burned in places,mm, mm, mm.”

“Just cheese and chips?” she asks.

“If we were feeling crazy, my dad would add some beans and scallions, chopped tomatoes if we didn’t have any salsa.”

She leans forward. “Was your dad the main cook?”

“I don’t know if microwave nachos count as cooking, but yes. He also made a mean Bolognese and ribs—fuck, his ribs weregood.He’d cook them all day, and they’d just fall off the bone. Do you guys remember them?” I ask Bishop and Ti, a nostalgic burn warming my chest.

“Yeah, they didn’t even need sauce,” Titus says and nods to Bishop. “With your mom’s rice and peas? The perfect meal.”

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