Page 48 of Broken Headboards
Chapter Nineteen
Austin
“A roundof shots for the boy,” Taylor shouts over to the waitress, who’s dressed in a skimpy plaid skirt and a black vest.
Usually, I’d find myself whispering sweet nothings into her ear. I’m not ashamed to admit that I like the attention of a woman with big tits and a fine ass, both of which the waitress has.
But for some reason, I’m not keen on pursuing her tonight.
Knowing a woman like Tess exists nulls my desire to even talk to another women. What’s the point? Tess is the epitome of femininity but with a fierceness that can only match my own.
She is my match. And, a fucking gorgeous one at that.
I shoot Taylor a menacing glare. “Seriously, man? What the fuck are you doing?” I lean over the table and yell at him.
“I figured you’d like something to take the sting out of your last loss,” Taylor fakes a frown. “Tess is at it again.”
“Fuck you,” I say, flipping my middle finger up at him.
“No, I think you’re looking to fuckher,” he say.
Dominic pats me on the back, like a fucking big brother, and chimes in. “We’ve all been there, man,” he says. “Caught up in a woman.” He shakes his head and takes a sip of his whisky.
“What do you mean?” I turn to him.
“I think you know what I mean,” he cocks his eyebrow up, like he knows something I don’t.
“Apparently I don’t know what you mean…” I jab back looking to the other guys for help, hoping they can clue me on whatever the fuck he is alluding to.
This is supposed to be a guy’s weekend. No holds-barred, let loose type of getaway to Aspen. But it’s turning into a pity party with me as their crowned bitch.
“Here you go boys,” the waitress places the tray of tequila shots on the table. “Hopefully this’ll make you feel better, lover,” she stares at me and flicks her tongue across her teeth.
“I’m sure it’ll do something like that,” I scoot my ass closer to the table and pick up the glass, holding it up to her. “Cheers.”
“Cheers,” she says, then winks and twists away, heading back to some rowdy customers.
You’d be surprised how crowded Aspen gets at night. Even in an exclusive lounge like Access—where we each paid $10k each to get in—it’s still buzzing with people.
But Aspen doesn’t house just any people. Every New York City executive, Hollywood director and wandering socialite gathers here, making this a prime location for yours truly. I am elite, and my boys only add to my status.
I’m sure Tara’s introduced you to them already, baby. But if you haven’t, I should let you know—we’re all fucking badasses. We are the puppet-masters of New York City. Each of our hands orchestrating a part of it, from banks to gyms to even criminal organizations.
I might not have been born and raised there, like the rest of them, but I’ve made a similar impact. Check anyone’s apartment or house—from Manhattan to the Hamptons—and you’ll find me there. Everyone knows my name and if they don’t, then they’re not worth knowing. That sounds cold, I know, but it’s the truth.
“Malcolm, when did you know that Sonia was the one?” I ask him, casually as I think about who else is in New York.
Tess.
“Oh, the fucking moment I met her. I just knew. I don’t know what it was but when I laid my eyes on her, it was instant. The sex didn’t hurt either,” he laughs and gulps down his tequila shot.
“And you, Colt?” I twist back to him.
“That’s when you know she’s the right one. When she can spar with you and challenge you to be a better version of yourself. Yeah, there is a better version if you can believe it,” Colt chimes in.
“God, you guys sound so fucking cheesy,” Taylor interjects.
“Dude, don’t even start with us. You know you and Ashley are seconds away from living happily-ever-after,” Colt jabs back.
