Page 13 of The Twins

Not tonight.

“You’re open,” I remind her, gesturing around us. It’s not that I particularly like the food or the minimalistic décor, but Grey maintains a routine. Going out every other week with me is our routine. “Why would you be closed?”

“I can’t tell you!” the hostess cracks, and if I wanted to, I could have her fired for being this fired up. Whoever the special guest is tonight, they have the staff’s panties in a bunch. “I’ve signed an NDA. Look, I’m sorry—”

“I don’t care. Occasionally, my woman suffers from back pain, and if this standing around, waiting on you, causes her to suffer, you’ll pay. I have a date night, and you’ll take us to our seats in thirty seconds. If you don’t, I’ll call the manager. If he’s unreachable, I’ll call Bob. I’m sure he’ll be pretty upset that you refused—”

“Fine! But you’ll have to sit behind the main pillar. Don’t cause any outrage. Pretend you’re not even there! Our guests… They don’t want any company. Nobody’s supposed to know they’re here,” the hostess mumbles, clicking on her device. Her hands are shaking as she takes us through secret routes to our seats. This trick rarely works, but I’m guessing that the other guests have ruined our hostess’s professionalism.

I don’t tease the poor woman more than necessary. I’m feeling good tonight, and I don’t want to mess up my body while I have my sugar puff alone. The scene with the hostess unsettled her, and I browse ways to make her happy again as we talk to the maître d’ who arrives promptly after the hostess leaves.

Once the maître d’ departs, I catch Grey staring at me.

“What is it?” I ask.

“You’re hot when you’re bossy and demanding,” she confesses, sucking in a breath. How I wish I could be that breath.

“I know you like bossy. You’re the girlfriend of three bossy men. You like to have a variety of bossy. Sweet bossy. Subtle bossy. Harsh bossy…” I must remind myself: No touching. I adjust my slacks while we wait.

Grey’s gained a little weight in Los Angeles, and we’re all enjoying the results. Her dress hugs her delicious curves, making me thirsty for whatever she has to offer. She looks out of place, but then again, she doesn’t. Her teasing outfit is perfect. Any man would want to have Grey stand by his side.

It’s her heart that doesn’t fit in here.

She wouldn’t mind staying home. In fact, she prefers it. Our date nights exhaust her, but it’s a routine we won’t break. Each one of the guys has a thing with Grey that nobody else can take away.

Our things slash private downtime with Grey is a unified effort to help our woman grow.

If that means we must do uncomfortable things, so be it.

I hate being out in public in LA. The fact that the restaurant is closed suits me. I can have a cozy night with my woman while nobody bothers me.

I’d like to know who the secretive A-listers are, buy them a cheap bottle of Champagne. I’m a cheap fuck when it doesn’t concern my sugar puff, my older brother, our grumpy roommate slash sharing partner Charles, or our neighbors’ cute cat.

Celebrities ask for special treatment all the time, but to close a restaurant last minute… That’s unusual for this caliber of restaurant. I spoil my woman, but I don’t buy a house every time we go out for dinner.

On our way inside, I heard some masculine grunts and chats. No women. Maybe the money type decided to scoop down to our level?

“Do you think they’ll be upset if I use the restroom?”

“Fuck no. You go do your thing. If they so much as breathe in your direction, I’ll have a word with them,” I tell Grey, and she nods shyly. Before leaving the table, she kisses me. I hold her for longer than I should.

There are situations in Grey’s past that she doesn’t talk about with anyone but her therapist. Of course, we’ve bugged the office, so we know everything.

I’m trying to have a good night. I don’t want to remember that part of Grey’s past, but it’s right there, taunting me.

Tiny details could derail her any minute.

Like intentionally holding her up when she wants to use the restroom and tickling her to make her pee herself in front of everyone.

I don’t want to humiliate my woman like that.

Letting her go, I study her as she disappears behind the minimalistic walls of the restaurant.

For the time she’s absent, I hold my breath. There’s no relief when she’s not in my presence. I was like this with my brother after our parents died. I couldn’t sleep without knowing where he was. Of course, I had to use my unorthodox sources to accomplish infiltrating my brother’s unit overseas…

I’d do anything for a good night’s sleep.

My family means the most to me, and I’d follow them to the end of the earth.

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