Page 38 of Single Girl Rules #ThreeHeadedMonster

“She’s your girlfriend, yes?”

“She is.”

“Then based on a few of those pictures, I’d say you’re either very brave or very stupid.”

“He’s brave,” I said. “I may have plotted the course, but we all would have ended up in jail if Chad hadn’t looked a cop dead in the eye and called him Daddy.”

Some of the hoods laughed. But I was more focused on the reaction of the five waiters standing around the table with their hands clasped behind their backs. According to Adonis, they were the real decision makers tonight. And none of them had laughed.

“I’m excited to hear more about that,” said the guy at the head of the table. “But first let’s place our dinner orders.”

I looked down at the menu. It all sounded great, so I spent more time checking out the waiters. They were all handsome in a preppy Harvard guy kinda way. But one stood out above the rest. And by that I mean he had a great bulge in his pants.

I put my hand up to call him over.

“Ready to order, miss?” he asked.

“I am. I’ll have the crab cakes.” What I really wanted was to lick his cologne off him, but I couldn’t exactly order that. Seriously, what was that smell? It was like a mix between pineapple and coconut.

“May I interest you in a beverage this evening? Our house special is the Flying Gryphon.”

“Do you have anything with coconut?” I asked. His scent had taken over my brain.

“Technically no.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “But I’m sure I could slip behind the bar and whip you up my signature cocktail. It’s like a piña colada, but with a twist.”

“That sounds amazing.” Mainly because I had a feeling it was going to taste exactly like he smelled.

“I’ll have the same,” said Ash. “But a virgin one.”

“Excellent choice, ladies.” He took our menus. “And you, sir?”

“Still looking,” said Chad without looking up. He waved him off.

Damn it, Chad! Be nice!

I laughed. “Please excuse my boyfriend. The better the options look, the more he forgets his manners. If anything, you should take his rudeness as a compliment.”

“Of course.” The waiter bowed slightly and backed away from us. His cologne lingered, but not nearly long enough.

I shoved Chad’s leg. “You should really be nicer to the waiters,” I said.

“Yes, yes,” agreed Slavanka. “Be nice to yummy waiter man.”

“He seemed average,” said Chad. “And I might have been nice if he hadn’t started flirting with you right in front of me.”

“Babe, he wasn’t flirting with me.”

“Oh really? Then what do you call that bullshit about making a piña colada just for you?”

Flirting. He’d 100% been flirting with me. But I couldn’t admit it to Chad when he was in his sexy jealous caveman mood. “He was just doing his job.”

“Well, he better do his job in a less flirty way or he’s gonna get punched in the face.”

“Who’s gonna get punched?” asked one of the hooded guys.

Chad looked back. “That waiter. He was just hitting on my girl.”

“I punched a waiter once,” said the guy. From there, the conversation devolved into Chad and a few of the hoods trading stories about ways that they’d abused their employees.

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