Page 102 of Reaper

“Sushi.”

I can’t help but cringe and Natalie catches it.

“Or not. We could totally get burritos or tacos or something. That would be good,” she says, quickly changing her tune.

“I think the Mexican would go over better with the guys.”

“Awesome, there we go then.”

“But out of curiosity, what do you like to order when you get sushi?” I ask as we start walking through the crowd.

“Gosh, I’m simple really. I just get some California rolls and some spicy tuna rolls. Oh! If I’m really going all out and I don’t have to worry about it, I like trying one of those mixed sushi platters that are clearly labeled. That way I can try something new and make a mental note if I like something or not.”

“That’s it?” I ask, doing the quick math in my head. Those two rolls aren’t very much.

Natalie opens her mouth but a look of indecision crosses her face.

“Just tell me.”

“William counted my calories. He wanted to make sure I didn’t eat too much and get too fat for my clothes.”

“Asshole,” I murmur under my breath as I squeeze her hip.

“Agreed.”

“Hey, I collected your earnings,” Wrath says, coming up alongside us.

“Thank you for betting for me but please never do that again.” Natalie turns toward him.

While she’s distracted, I pull out my phone and shoot a text off to Jacob.

Me: Nat wants sushi. She said she likes California rolls, spicy tuna, and some sort of mixed platter shit? I don’t know, get her what you think she would like and a lot. Order Mexican for everyone else.

Jacob: 10-4.

“Ready?” I ask as I slip my phone back into my pocket.

Wrath looks up at me. “What’s the plan?”

“Oh, we’re heading back to the clubhouse. We were thinking we could order Mexican,” Natalie tells him.

“Sounds good. I can eat. Do you want your money now or later?”

Before he even finishes asking, her hair starts flying as she shakes her head. “I’ll just let you hold on to that. Besides, I have no way of holding on to that much cash.”

“You have pockets.” He points out as he falls into step with us.

“Have you ever seen how deep women’s pockets are in pants?” she demands. “They can’t even hold a tube of ChapStick most of the time!”

As she rants, we make our way across the parking lot.

“Oi, Natalie!”

Wrath and I tense as we look around.

“Did you like the race?” Roxy shouts from where she’s leaning against her car and standing next to another man.

“I loved it! You even won me some money,” Natalie hollers back.

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