Page 5 of Paradise in Progress
Zoe and the roommate—I think her name is Laura or Lana, or something like that—turn in the direction I’m pointing as Xandergestures to the girls with his glass. My attention slides to Kennedy, who’s staring at me, eyes narrowed and her perfectly manicured eyebrows pinched. She’s no doubt wondering about my motives.
“We’d love to join,” Lana says, jumping from her chair.
“Lana,” Kennedy hisses, eyes widening at her friend as she flicks her eyes toward me. No doubt, she’s scolding her friend. Both girls continue having a silent conversation as their looks bounce all around the table, implying which person they are talking about.
Zoe stands from her seat and, with a smile, heads toward the table. “I guess she’s spoken for the both of us,” Lana says.
Moving to the side, I step in front of the frat boy who isn’t budging to let Kennedy out of her seat.
“Listen, asshole, I don’t know who you think you are—”
“You’re right,” I cut him off. “You have no idea who I am, which means you should move and let this pretty woman out of her seat and go back to minding your own business.”
Kennedy slides from her seat, grabbing her purse and smoothing down her skirt. The guy's eyes land down her shirt and my blood boils.
“Fuck you, man. You have no idea who my dad is.”
“And I don’t care.” I take a step closer to the prick, but soft fingers curl against my hand, causing my head to whip to the side.
“He’s not worth it,” Kennedy whispers. Using the hand not clutched in mine, she flips her long locks off her shoulder in a sexy move that causes her tendrils to whip the other guy in the face. She pulls me away, and I wait until she’s in front of me before I turn and follow her.
The few spectators who have gathered around us move to the side, and as quickly as she grabs my hand, she drops it. Her shoulders steel,and she storms ahead of me. When she reaches the table, she takes the empty seat next to Rafe, the one directly in front of me.
Sitting down, I flag down the waitress as she’s passing by.
“What can I get you guys?” she asks, scanning the table.
Rafe and Xander both order another whiskey, while Zoe and Lana order margaritas. I order another bottle of domestic beer and, with much surprise, Kennedy orders the same. “We’ll also take a round of green tea shots.”
When the waitress leaves, I stare at Kennedy. I’m waiting for her to burst the tense bubble we have somehow found ourselves in.
“How are you liking Nelson?” Xander asks Kennedy. He’s been privy to our squabbles a time or two. The first time he heard us bicker, he prepared a long conversation between me and him about how unprofessional it was. I reassured him that it was just a part of our dynamic. Now he plays mediator when he thinks it’s going to take a turn for the worse. He could always read a room and find a way to bypass the swirling tension. It’s why he’s going to make an excellent CEO when Dear Old Dad decides to step down.
“Oh, what Nelson are you referring to?” She pauses, head tilted. “Nelson Signature is fantastic, but this Nelson,” she says, hiking her thumb in my direction. “Well, this Nelson is kind of an ass.”
Rafe chokes around his sip of whiskey as he breaks out in a laugh. “Damn, she got you.”
“She’s been busting my balls for years.”
“Oh, please, Golden Boy. You’ve brought this on yourself.”
I guffaw. “Golden Boy? That’s a new one for you. How long have you been waiting to call me that?”
“Too long,” she admits, and I smirk.
Our drinks arrive with the shots Kennedy ordered. Reaching our shot glasses in the center of the table, we clink them before downing the whiskey, peach schnapps, and sweet and sour concoction. I’m not even going to lie; that was a pretty damn good shot. I’m actually impressed with her choice of drinks. I guess you can take the girl out of the small town, but not the small town out of the girl.
“I’ve got a little wager for you,” she muses, taking a long pull of her beer.
“What’s that?”
“The last one to finish their beer buys the next round?” She shrugs as if it’s no big deal.
Little does she know, I spent most of college at the bars. If I wasn't in class, the guys and I were at a party. I might look like a prep boy, but pretty boys can drink her tiny ass under the table.
“You’re on.” I reach my hand across the table. Her delicate hand slides right in mine, and I fight the shock that zaps me as our skin meets. She goes to pull away, but I hold her tighter. “Be prepared to lose again…Firecracker.”
With a huff, she rips her hand from my grip, and I instantly miss the connection. “Don’t choke on your words, Golden Boy, especially when you’re buying the next round.”
