Page 143 of Shattered Pieces

“Point at what you want on the menu and I’ll order for you,” he said without looking up at me from his phone, probably getting scolded from Hunter for taking me out.

“I can talk in small doses.”

“I know, but it’s so peaceful without you sassing me,” he joked, laughing as I kicked him under the table. “Hey, play nice, babe. Get the pancakes. They’re soft and will sweeten you up a little. Coffee isn’t too bad here either.”

A quick glance at the menu told me he was right because a lot of the options were going to be harsh on my throat, so I texted him what I wanted.

Rory: Pancakes and coffee is fine.

He read it as it popped up on his phone before lifting his gaze to mine with a huff.

“Good to know you won’t fight me on it.”

I gave him a fake smile and flipped him off before pushing the menu away, and I studied him as the waitress came over to take our order. She was very interested in him, his laidback flirting approach working wonders as he chuckled at her bad attempt at a joke, and if things had been different between us, I’d probably fall for his bullshit too.

He definitely had that bad boy look going for him, the type where you knew they’d throw you against a wall and fuck you breathless while calling you a dirty whore, but then would get you water and clean you up afterwards while saying you did a good job.

Why was that so attractive?

I jerked as his leg brushed mine, and I realized he was watching me with a grin, the waitress gone.

“If you’d rather eat me for breakfast, I won’t say no,” he murmured, somehow anticipating my next kick as his fingers wrapped around my ankle. “Stop kicking me or I’ll spank you in front of everyone.”

“I’d stab you,” I warned, his eyes narrowing.

“No talking.” His fingers slipped up the inside of my jeans to tease my skin, and I pulled my ankle from his hold with annoyance. “You’d be fun to restrain. You’d fight me on it, wouldn’t you?”

The thought of being restrained with more than just hands made me physically flinch, and I wasn’t sure it would ever be something I’d be into. Tristan had ruined the idea of that.

“Hey,” he said gently, his brow furrowed in confusion at my response. “I’m teasing. No one gets to do that to you without permission. Bad memory?”

“Tristan,” I answered, not needing to go into more detail than that.

“Sorry,” he winced, having the decency to shut up until our breakfast arrived.

I picked at my food, taking small bites to avoid hurting myself, while Marco inhaled his like someone was going to steal it right out from under his nose.

“I’m surprised you don’t have a bike. You seem to enjoy being on one,” he randomly said when he was finished, and I scrunched my nose.

“How do I pay for that? Don’t say Josie’s money or I’ll punch you.”

“How is that different from the fancy cars?”

“She didn’t buy any of them. Skeet lent me the Corvette that is now destroyed, the Mustang was Slash’s, and the Lambo I’m going to be forced to use to avoid Skeet stealing the Mustang, is Jensen’s. Besides, bikes are easy to steal. That’s why you keep yours at Hunter’s in the garage.”

“You’d look hot in full leathers.”

“You think I look hot anyway,” I scoffed, rubbing my throat when it started hurting more.

“Very true, but my comment is still valid. Stop talking, you’ll hurt yourself,” he grinned, sipping his coffee and not rushing me with mine. He seemed more than happy to text on his phone until I’d finished, then he paid for both of our food before leading me back outside.

We got back on the bike and headed to a small side street out of view to park, excitement hitting me as I followed him on foot through a few streets. I really needed a good fight, but this would do.

“Do you guys host female fights at the warehouse often?” I asked, and he glanced over his shoulder at me as we kept walking.

“Yeah. We don’t have fights as frequently as the Psychos, but the girls fight as much as the guys when we do. You want a fight?”

“I need one.”