Page 30 of Just Friends
I couldn’t keep myself from smiling. “And she’s really fucking cute, too.”
Vinny held up his hands. “Whoa, kid, don’t go falling in love. You’re too young for that.”
I laughed. “I wasn’t planning on it, Vinny.” I threw my jacket over my shoulder and headed for the door. “I’m out. Later, gents, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good luck, kid!”
“You better get your dick sucked tonight at least, rookie!”
***
I stood outside MSG and threw my arm in the air to hail a cab. A yellow cab veered, his brakes squealing to a stop in front of me.
I climbed in. “Hey, thank you.”
“Where to?” the driver mumbled.
With my phone in hand, I read off the address of the restaurant Piper had texted me. The cabbie stomped on the gas, throwing me against the seat. I watched out the window—with a healthy dose of fear—as we raced through Manhattan, dangerously weaving in and out of the Saturday night traffic.
I leaned back and closed my eyes, trying to think ofanythingbesides the undeniable fact that I was moments away from dying in a horrific car crash.
Instead, I thought about meeting Piper last night.
Piper was at the club with Beau’s high school crush, Camille. Beau brought both girls back to our VIP booth so he could spend time with Camille. From the second I laid my eyes on Piper—a total cutie with an infectious smile—I felt like I already knew her. She moved with an energetic bounce and had a fun-loving aura, like she didn’t have a care in the world.
She climbed into our booth at the club, scooted right next to me and shook my hand. “Hi there, handsome! I’m Piper. Nice to meet you.”
I gave her a smile. “I’m Jack.”
“Goodness, Jack, you’re big.” She put both her hands around my bicep and squeezed, trying to make her fingers meet but failing to even come close. She leaned in and whispered, “You’re not on steroids, are you?”
I laughed. “Nope, not on steroids.”
“But that’s what you’d say even if youwereon steroids, isn’t it?”
“Hm. Yeah, probably,” I admitted. “You got me there.”
She tilted her head at me. “You’re honest. I trust you.” Her pretty smile tugged at my heart. “So, how’d you get so big, Jack?”
“I grew up on a farm, actually.”
Her eyes lit up. “Really?! Me, too!” She lifted the delicate sleeve of her dress and showed me her own bicep. “Farm strength!”
I gave her little knot of muscle a gentle squeeze. “Hey, not too bad, actually.”
She reared back, her jaw unhinging with mock outrage. “What do you mean, ‘actually’?”
Conversation with her was so easy and natural—we bantered, we teased each other, we flirted. We had a lot to talk about in a short time. And I do mean short, because after about twenty minutes of talking, she let out a big yawn and laid her head on my shoulder.
“Do you mind?” she asked. “I just got really tired.”
I was surprised, sure—I’d justmether, after all—but nah, I didn’t mind.
“Knock yourself out,” I said.
“Thanks.” She snuggled up with my arm, making herself comfier. “Your shoulder makes a perfect pillow, by the way.”
And that was the last thing she said before she went out like a light. Like snap-your-fingers quick. That was a little bizarre, but then again,shewas a little bizarre herself and we’d all been drinking. So she slept, right there in the VIP booth, with her head on my shoulder. Yeah, the boys gave me plenty of shit—but she looked so cute and peaceful, I didn’t dare wake her.
