Page 64 of Tell Me Why
“Got it,” Andrea says, opening her hand for the menus we didn’t use.
Before she walks away, I ask her, “Is it too early in the day for fries?”
She tucks the menus under her arm and stuffs her order pad into the pocket of her apron. “Sorry, fries are only available on the lunch menu, which isn’t available until after eleven.”
Ugh, that sucks. I haven’t had their fries in forever. “Got it, thanks.”
“We’ll take an order of large fries, too,” Christian says without even skipping a beat.
Andrea glances at him and pauses, like her brain has momentarily gone blank. “Um, sure,” she says, finally. “We can make that happen for you.”
“Great,” he says dismissively.
When she walks away, I blink at him, shocked by the sheer audacity of what he just did. “Do you follow any rules, likeever?” I ask.
“They have fries,” he answers. “They know how to prepare them. What’s the big deal?”
The way Andrea so quickly caved to his demands is thebig deal.She just folded, like a house of cards.Damn.
“I could have ordered myself,” I say. “I was thinking about getting the French toast.”
“Have you ever had their French toast?”
I lean forward and narrow my eyes at him. “Does it matter?”
With a shake of his head, he opens a straw and places it in my icewater. “It’s not that great, trust me.”
“As usual, you’re missing the point. You didn’t even ask me.” I push my glass in front of him, then take his glass, which doesn’t have a straw. “I didn’t want a straw.”
A lie, and now I’m annoyed that I have to raw-dog this fucking glass, just to prove a point. But I can’t allow him to dictateeverything,even something as simple as a water glass.
He laughs, watching me. “Are you always this difficult?”
“If wanting to maintain my autonomy is considered ‘being difficult,’ then yes. I am.”
“Autonomy,” he repeats, pursing his lips, staring right into me. “That’s funny, because most of the girls I know enjoy being dominated in one way or another.”
My heart beats a little bit faster when he looks at me like that, and memories of last night flood my mind—the way he pinned me down to the pool table and took control. The way his powerful body felt inside mine, forcing me to climax. It was terrifying and exciting, but I hate the way my body melted for him. Because it means I’m no better than Andrea, or any of the other girls who cave to Christian’s every demand.
To avoid my clit spontaneously igniting right here in the diner, I abruptly change the subject. “So. Tell me,” I say. “What’s the deal with the Burning Crown? Why are you guys so horrifically evil? Do you think it’s a nature thing or a nurture thing?”
Our coffee and cream arrive first, followed quickly by the fruit and pastries. I pour a generous amount of cream into my mug and take a sip without stirring it. It’s okay, typical weak diner coffee.
He drinks his black. “It’s a survival thing,” he replies, taking a gulp. “When you have power, influence…money, other people want it. Simple as that.”
The warm coffee moves through me, reviving me. “Survival of the fittest,” I offer.
The rest of the food arrives, disrupting the flow of our conversation. By the time everything is set down, the table is full of food that we’re not going to eat. It’s way too much.
When the waitress leaves, I reach for the ketchup and drench the fries with it. “So what I’m hearing...” I continue, picking up where we left off “...Is that there’s no room for mercy in your world.” I pop a crispy fry into my mouth and the crunch is perfect. So good. “It’s kill or be killed.”
Christian tucks into his sausage. “Isn’t that also true for Shadow and Ash?” he asks between bites. “Our worlds aren’t all that different.”
“We don’t come from money like you do,” I say. “Everything we have we have my dad had to earn. We weren’t just handed a wad of cash when we were born.”
He takes a bite of his bacon and looks me dead in the eyes. “You sure about that?”
I pop another fry into my mouth, unbothered by his question. He’s always trying to unsettle me. That’s his thing. “Why wouldn’t I be sure?”
