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He stands awkwardly. And sure enough, he lifts his t-shirt for the city.
Zack whispers something to Laurel.
She nods.
He stage-whispers, "Damn. Abs. That must be why women give you a chance. Since it's not your personality."
That's mean for Zack. He's difficult, yes, but never mean.
Whatever happened between Rome and Laurel, Zack is firmly on Laurel's side. He's always on her side. There's something sweet about his loyalty.
He's obnoxious as fuck. But he loves his family.
I admire that.
Rome turns to Zack. He tries his own Zack-like shrug. As if he doesn't care about anything either.
He doesn't sell it though.
He keeps glancing in Laurel's direction, like he wants to say something to her. But I can't tell if it's something cutting or something sweet.
In a surprising move, Zack picks truth. She asks how many women he's been with. He makes a show of counting on both hands and ends up with a rough estimate in the thirties.
Is that too high or too low?
It's so hard to tell with him. He's always so full of shit.
Then, of course, he comes back to Jackson. "Truth or dare."
And in a way more shocking move, Jackson says, "Dare."
Right on cue, the limo stops.
We're here.
"I dare you to get a lap dance," Zack says.
"Aren't we at the hotel?" Jackson asks.
"We have the limo for another three hours," Zack says. "And we're in Las Vegas. Go crazy."
The driver opens the door.
Rome slides out.
Then Laurel.
And Zack. "I'm counting on you, Daphne. Make sure he does it." He winks at me. Again. "And feel free to get creative."
And there it is, implied in his voice.
Give him the lap dance yourself, maybe, huh?
Chapter Fifteen
Jackson
My brother closes the limo door with a smirk, leaving Daphne and me alone in the strange space.
