And I give him my most charming grin. “Yes, altar boy.Five. You four numbskulls and yours truly. Did you really think I was going to sit back and let you have all the fun?”
He rolls his dark eyes but shakes his head. “No, I guess we couldn’t get that lucky.”
“Right!” I clap my hands together, accidentally break my cigarette, then stuff it in my pocket because fuck it. “I even havethebestclub name for myself.”
“Even though you aren’t joining… this should be good.“ Pork Chop chuckles.
I wait a few seconds to make sure they’re all waiting on bated breath, tug the front of my leather jacket then smile. “Bones.”
This causes the Kings, as well as John, to all scoff in annoyance, but no one argues.
Not until Spider frowns. “And you’re not worried about being around so many people? Not concerned someone will get suspicious?”
“Of what? A new member of your club? A devilishly handsome and ridiculously charismatic Greek god hanging with you gorillas?” I shake my head. “Hardly. It’s not like I’m going to be walking around telling people about myhobbies.If someone figures it out just by looking at me, well, I’ll deal with it, but I highly doubt that’ll happen in the sea of meatheads we’ll be swimming in all night.”
I watch the four Kings seemingly have some sort of silent debate with themselves before looking at Little John, who nods because he agreed with me well before they got here, then turn back to them.
“Well,” Marbles grunts with a devious smile. “Looks like you’re in, bone daddy. Hope you got your g-string ready.”
“I’m always prepared.” I throw the VP a wink as I pull a pair of Stevie’s panties—the ones she wore last time I saw her and have been carrying around ever since—from my pocket and spin it on my finger. “Always.”
CHAPTERTWELVE
STEVIE
“Why doI have to wear this again?”
I smile as I smooth my dress over my backside and crouch down to Prince’s level. “Because it’s for the party.”
“It’s itchy.” He frowns and tugs at the collar of his button-down shirt. “And hot.”
“I’m sure King doesn’t think his shirt is itchy or hot.” My eyes flick to his big brother—that he absolutely adores—leaning in the doorway of my bedroom. I reach out to stop Prince’s fiddling and fix the top buttons. “Do you think he likes wearing shirts like this?”
His nose scrunches before he turns to look over his shoulder. “Do you like it, Kingy?”
“Not really, little dude. I’d rather be in a t-shirt and sweats any day. But this is a party… ” King smiles as I silently thank him for playing along but scowl when he adds, “Even if we don’t really want to celebrate who it’s for.”
“We don’t?” Prince turns back to me with a confused expression. “I thought we liked parties.”
I ignore the fact that I agree one hundred percent with his brother and force a smile. “We do. We love parties and we like the people we have them for.” King scoffs again but I keep talking as I get to my feet. “Your brother is just a little disappointed because he couldn’t bring a date to Beau’s party tonight.”
“Yeah, that’s it.” The angsty teen snorts.
I shoot King aplease don’t make this harderlook, but can’t help but smile at him, even when he rolls his eyes.
I’m not sure when it happened, but my very first friend, my only friend and the little boy I viewed as a brother ever since the first time I was allowed to hold him, has really started to look like a man.
It was obvious from a young age that King would be tall. Cal is just over six foot and Rochelle is nearly five nine so it wasn’t surprising when their first son had growth spurt after growth spurt until he was as tall as his dad by the time he started high school. And now that he’s almost eighteen, King might even have an inch or two on Cal, and he’s favoring his build too.
King filled out a lot over the summer; the once lanky and a bit gangly boy losing a lot of the lingering boyish qualities in favor of the more manly traits of his father. He’s still lean, and definitely isn’t as rough around the edges as Cal, but he’s more of a spitting image than he was before. Save for his black hair and touch of green in his blue eyes—that’s all Rochelle.
But looking at him right now, dressed in a black button-down shirt, dark jeans, and his boots… that little boy who followed me around like I hung the moon has grown into a young man without me fully realizing it.
And thankfully, the teenage angst and attitude that he gives his parents—and most of the adults in the club—is something King rarely turns on me.
I’d like to think it’s because we’re only five years apart in age, that maybe he sees me more as an equal than an authority, but hardly anyone has been exempt from his mildly rebellious stunts and overalllife sucksattitude the last couple years so I’m sure there’s more to it than that.
And bymore to it, I absolutely mean the reason King is so good for me,tome, any time we’re together is because he’s bore witness to so many of my lectures over the years that he feels bad about even attempting to give me hell.
