Page 28 of One for the Money
But the moment passes quickly, thank goodness, and we break the bloodshot eye contact we had going on.
“Anyways, wanna finish the show?”
We sit in a comfortable, companionable silence, watching Kit and Victor confronting one another and eventually deciding to give things a try, before a notification pings on Quinton’s phone. He hops up and shoves it back in his pocket. “Alright! Pizza’s here!”
Five minutes later, he’s back, with a stack of food entirely too big for the two of us.
“How much do you think I eat?” I ask, my eyes widening as I watch him reveal two pizzas, an order of breadsticks, and what appears to be a pizza made out of cookies.
“I wanted to get a pizza without pineapple just in case you didn’t like it,” he says casually. “And what is pizza without cheesy bread? And what’s getting stoned if you don’t have cookies? Really, Alex, you’d think as a doctor you’d be familiar with logic.”
A true belly laugh rolls out of me, and once I get started, it’s hard to stop. As Quinton watches me, he picks up the joint and lights it again, taking a huge inhale from it. He crosses over to me, where I’m wiping my eyes and just now recovering from the laughing fit, and reaches toward my face in a purposefully slow pace.
I could dodge him if I wanted to. But I don’t.
The Alpha leans toward me, and in the back of my mind, I know what’s coming, but I am not going to stop it. Quinton presses his mouth to mine, and my lips fall open. He exhales all of the smoke he was holding, then pushes my chin to close my mouth.
As the smoke seeps from my nose, he watches me with hunger.
The Alpha is dangerous. If I let him, he’ll burrow under my skin and never leave.
“One thing you should know about me, Doc, is that I always call shotgun.”
Chapter 11
“Damnit, Dex!”I shout, bouncing off the net stretched across the ring for safety. “That’s the third time you’ve dropped me today! You’re going to get me killed.”
Dex swings slowly upside down above me, knees bent over the catch bar as he looks down at me. “Sorry. My brain is all over the place today.”
“Well, can you ask it to come home? The nets aren’t going to be here tonight, and I would prefer to finish the show in one piece.” I roll off the front apron, grumbling beneath my breath.
Normally, I’m the irresponsible one. The one showing up hungover, or sneaking a patron back into my trailer.
Now it looks like Dexter is fighting me for that title.
“We have the mats as backup,” he says, landing heavily in the net. “So what if the audience thinks you fell to your death?”
I shove him as he rolls off the apron. “Because those mats are so thin, it’s only a step above falling directly on the ground!”
Dexter has dropped me without the nets exactly once.
I slipped a disc and got a concussion.
Zero out of ten, do not recommend.
“Do you want to go again?” Dexter asks, ruffling his blond hair. “I can go again.”
“No, you’re exhausted. You need to rest before the show tonight if there is any hope of me surviving.” I may be a little prone to the dramatics, but I am serious about this. I snag my water bottle, taking a long pull from it. “You’ve got to get your head in the game, man.”
He grabs his shirt from the ground, using it to wipe the sweat off his body.
Having a twin is weird sometimes.
Looking at him is like looking in a weird, distorted mirror. Like an alternate universe. I thought getting tattoos and stretching my ears would help, but instead, it just makes me feel like I’m staring back in time.
The Dario I used to be standing in front of me like a ghost of Christmas past or something.
Trippy shit, especially when you’re stoned.
