Page 58 of Knot My MC
Pop.
I cringe. I hate gum. The way it sounds skeeves me out, and while Kiki orders the waitress loudly chomps on it. I stare at the waitress, watching her work the gum over like it personally offended her and she’s trying to teach it a lesson. My muscles tense the longer I watch her.
How can anyone be okay with chewing gum like that? The least she could do is close her mouth so I don’t have to hear the noises.
“Any for you?” She freezes when she sees me staring at her.
I avert my eyes. “Chicken fried steak and eggs. Sub the biscuits for the toast. Orange juice and two coffees, please.”
“I can bring you a pot if you want.”
Knox nods and I say, “That would be great, thanks.”
She pops her gum and grabs the menus. “I’ll have that out to you all soon.”
“The gum?” Jag takes the paper roll off his silverware and wraps it around his finger.
“Did you hear it?” I shake my head. “Obnoxiously loud.”
“At least no one has an apple.” Knox glances at Kiki. “He gets a little twitchy when people eat them in front of him.”
Kiki shifts beside me. “I like apples.”
“I wouldn’t mind if you did it,” I say before fully thinking about it. Jag and Knox exchange knowing smirks. “Fine, I probably wouldn’t like it but I wouldn’t be mad at you for it.”
“He saves all that irrational anger for strangers.”
The waitress drops off our drinks and we all act like we weren’t discussing her poor chewing habits. Knox dumps two creamers and three sugars into his coffee. I take one of each and doctor mine up. I don’t like the diner coffee either, but it isn’t that bad. Knox is a wimp. He takes a sip and reaches for another sugar.
“Would you like some juice instead?” Kiki asks.
His fingers hesitate on the packet. “Are you talking shit, Kiki Malone?”
“I donottalk shit.” She almost sounds serious. “All I’m saying is if you’re going to be a little bitch about the coffee, you may as well order an orange juice.”
He scoffs. “You sound like Crow.” Grabbing two sugar packets instead of the one, he rips them open with his teeth and pours them into his coffee, staring at her while he does it.
“It can’t be that bad.” She lifts the mug to her lips, takes a sip, and immediately spits it back into the cup. “What the fuck?”
“If you’re going to be a little bitch about the coffee, maybe you should get something different,” Knox says in his best impression of her.
She crumples a napkin and tosses it at his head, a megawatt smile bursting across her face. God, I’ve missed that smile. When was the last time I saw it? This is the first real one she’s given since we got her back.
“Children,” Jag warns. “I want my food. Don’t screw this up for me.”
“I hope the food is better than the coffee,” Kiki mutters.
“It is.” I drop my arm on the back of the booth, mere inches from holding on to her. I wish I had my sketch pad; this moment is worthy of documenting. She’s so pretty. I drum my fingers on the seat pad. She glances at my hand but doesn’t comment on the tick. “You smell as good as I remember.”
Her cheeks flame again. God I love that. Jag and Knox both rumble with approval, and their purring turns her face tomato red.
“I need the bathroom,” she says quickly, shoving at me.
I slide out of the booth with ease, catching her hand before she can rush away to hide. I spin her around and she crashes into my chest. Running my nose up the column of her neck, I nip it softly and whisper, “That damn blush, baby.”
“Stop teasing me.” Her voice is breathy and her chest heaves. She tugs at her hand and I release her, dropping back into the seat as though nothing happened.
“Asshole,” Knox says.
