Page 36 of The Late Hit
She just looks at me, squinting her eyes with a dumbfounded expression painted on her face. I love when I stump her.
“Thanks for coming!”
She laughs. Like full deep laughter. Seeing that smile stretch across her face is like seeing the sun after a storm.
“I’m sure glad you decided to break the ice with a joke instead of me asking you about your camping trip this morning.” She smirks.
“My camping trip?” I ask, puzzled. What the hell is she talking about? “Are you high?”
Another laugh. “No, I’m not high…I’m talking about that impressive tent you pitched this morning. No wonder the ladies keep throwing themselves at you.”
I groan, dropping back against the couch. “Oh god, sorry about that. It’s morning.”
“I’m well aware you men can’t control yourself in the mornings. Enough about your dick, we’ve got a big morning ahead of us.”
“We do?”
“Yep,” she says, popping the p. “Go get ready in something casual. I'll meet you in forty-five minutes?”
Forty-five minutes later, I’m dressed in a pair of gray joggers, a navy hoodie, white sneakers, and a flat bill CTU Eagles hat, waiting on Brynn. One of the best things about Brynn is that she’s far from high maintenance. Again, another reason why the two of us hit it off so easily. She’s as down-to-earth as I am. I’m chilling in the front sitting room when she emerges dressed in a cropped gray hoodie, leggings that hug her delicious ass, a bag slung across her body, and her camel-colored coat. She’s dressed casually, but damn, does she look hot.
Hell, here I go again, ogling her body.
“Ready?” she asks, dangling a set of car keys in her hand.
She doesn’t wait for my answer as she slips out of the front door, skipping down the front steps toward a detached garage. She hits a button on the fob, and one of the four garage doors rises. Inside is a new cherry red Tesla S-APEX. Brynn hits the fob again, unlocking the car. Looking over at me, she gives a shit-eating grin.
“Climb in. We are heading into the city.”
Holy. Fuck. This is one badass car. I mean, I drive a damn Tesla, but this is like the mother of all Teslas. I thought I overheard her dad talking about it to someone last night, but I didn’t believe it. Now I’m seeing it with my own eyes. She’s a beauty. And now I’m wondering if her dad has any clue that she has the keys to his car.
Hesitating to get in, I look over at Brynn, but she’s already climbing into the car. She stops, sensing my pause.
“Q, get in the car.” I do as she says and get in the car. Adjusting her seat, I watch her get comfortable behind the wheel. Wilder would make a fine model for cars. She looks sexy as hell behind the wheel.
As hesitant as I was about making this trip, I’m glad I told Brynn I’d be her emotional support date. There’s not much I wouldn’t do for this girl.
Now it’s time for the truth; I’ve let her stall long enough.
But first, I’m going to enjoy this ride.
NavigatingtheTeslaintothe city is an absolute blast. Dad’s car is fast. Like really freaking fast; I feel like I’m flying. After I heard him brag about his new car to Asher’s dad and him failing to acknowledge me last night, I decided to be a little spiteful this morning. The key card was just sitting on the counter, calling out to me. I grabbed them, and then left a note on the counter.
Gosh, it’s the most fun I’ve had so far, aside from waking up in Quinton’s arms. Wait, why did I say that was fun? That wasn’t fun, it was weird, or was it? My feelings about the situation are all screwed up. Maybe that’s the problem, I haven’t had a good screw lately.
Yeah.
Yeah, that’s what it is.
As many times as I’ve stayed in his room, we have never, ever fallen asleep together. But waking up in his arms, it felt…it felt good. It felt surprisingly right. And to be honest, that scares the shit out of me.
Quinton Boyd is my best friend, my emotional support date, my partner in crime. He’s mybest friend. That’s it. End of discussion.
Whipping through the hustle and bustle of Chi-Town, I finally reach our destination. This morning, I woke up deciding that today’s heart-to-heart would need lots of good food. And comfort food is always a good idea. Grant Park Bistro is one of my favorites when I come home, which isn’t often, but I always make sure that I can grab brunch when I can. I pull into the valet parking lane at the hotel next door. Exiting the car, I tip the valet when he slips us our valet ticket. Quinton and I make our way to the restaurant, taking in the craziness of Chicago on a Saturday morning. It’s busy, full of groups heading to brunch and tourists exploring the city. I’m grateful I thought to book us a reservation last night. While I’m busy checking out the city, I notice that Q is glancing around too. It’s his first time in the city, and I’m glad I get to be his tour guide.
He pulls open the heavy door to the restaurant for me.
“Are we underdressed?” he asks, as we step inside.
