Page 166 of Driftwood Daffodil 2

“Where’s your lunch?”

Scratch that, I was not fine. In fact I was so far from fine that the word held no meaning.

“You better not be skipping meals.”

I rolled my eyes back to Gio who wasn’t alone. The rest of the asshole trio was with him.

“Damnit, I was hoping to starve to death before I had to talk to you again.”

He smacked his lips, unimpressed by my comment.

“Relax, I ate.” As if I’d skip a meal. Especially on pizza day. I scarfed down three slices in under five minutes. It was a new record.

Chuck’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you care if she ate?”

Why did he have to ask so many questions? Was there no mystery left in the world?

Gio responded by not responding. The only thing he did do was briefly glance in Chuck’s direction, before dropping his tray on the table and taking the seat next to me.

Atlee followed, wedging his way between Memphis and I – probably to get on Memphis’s nerves – while Darry walked around and sat down on the other side of the table.

Our quiet space had officially been invaded by pricks, and I was not having it.

“What are you doing?”

Gio popped a fry in his mouth and said, “I believe it’s called eating.”

The audacity! “Don’t throw my words back at me.”

I was the one who stated the obvious in this relationship.

“Um…” Chuck leaned in and whispered. “Why are they here?”

Atlee leaned over and kissed my cheek before I could say anything. “I can’t let my girlfriend eat lunch by herself.”

Okay, first off I wasn’t alone, and secondly, I needed something to burn the germs off my cheek.

“She’s too cute for that.” Atlee said while throwing his arm over my shoulders.

And, now I needed to burn this shirt.

Gio scowled over at him. “I will break your fucking arm Atlee.”

“I don’t know.” Atlee sang. “It might be worth it.”

One look from Gio had Atlee laughing and holding up his palms in surrender.

“Okay, okay. She’s all yours.”

“I am not some commodity to be traded.” I was a commodity that sold herself.

“Quiet.” Atlee waved his hand at me. “The grown-ups are talking.”

Bastard. Gio didn’t need to hit him, because I was going to.

“You know it only takes fifty pounds of force to pop a testicle.”

All the men at the table reacted to that. Chuck and Gio groaned, Atlee curled his lip, Darry choked on his food, and Memphis stared at me like I just slapped his mother – who was the only parent he liked. It was fantastic.

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