Page 151 of Don’t Say Mafia

The certainty in his voice made my chest tighten.

“Everything?” I asked.

“Everything,” he repeated. “Games. Cities. Concerts. Food. Anything you think you’ve missed.”

The crowd roared as Parker scored, but I couldn’t look away from Jagger and the way he was watching me like I was the event worth attending.

“That’s an awfully big promise,” I told him.

He smirked. “I think we both know by now that I don’t do small.”

***

Jagger

“Hey, Jagger-meister, I’ve got one,” Jace called across the table, obviously completely forgetting the part where I’d told him not to embarrass me in front of Eden.

“No. Absolutely not,” said Matty immediately.

“What does he have?” Eden asked, and the whole table groaned because there was no stopping him now.

“Just get it over with,” I told Jace, rolling my eyes.

“That was very princely of you,” he responded, and now I was just thankful he hadn’t added crime prince to that sentence, since apparently he was on a roll.

“Why did the witch go commando?” Jace asked. No one said anything, and he scoffed, clearly offended. “To get a better grip on her broom, of course.”

The table was crickets.

Riley patted Jace’s arm like he was a toddler who had just proudly shown her a stick-figure drawing. “That was very funny,” she soothed.

“It was layered,” Jace insisted. “There was wordplay.”

“Yes, you’re completely right,” she said, shooting Eden a wink.

“There was actually only trauma,” Matty corrected her.

Eden made a strangled sound next to me, halfway between a laugh and secondhand embarrassment. I felt her shoulders shaking.

Jace pointed at her triumphantly. “See? She gets it.”

“She’s being polite,” Casey said sweetly.

Natalie leaned back in her chair. “I’m filing that under Reasons Riley deserves sainthood.”

Riley beamed like this was a compliment.

Jace looked wounded. “You people have no appreciation for high art.”

“You said broom,” Matty deadpanned.

“It was metaphorical! I was referring to—” Before he could continue that pleasant little thought, Parker, Casey’s husband, smacked a hand across Jace’s mouth, cutting him off.

“If you lick me again, there will be repercussions,” Parker said, staring Jace down for a second daringly, before removing his hand.

Natalie leaned across the table toward Eden. “For the record, this is very normal. He gets worse after dessert.”

“I do not,” Jace growled.