started preening like a peacock needing to get laid,” Drake finishes.
Jason’s eyes flick between us, and he pauses, rubbing his thumb across his jaw. “Has anyone ever asked you two how the hell you make this relationship work?”
“More than once. We don’t know, either.”
I… Wait, yeah. That’s kinda true. We are a little strange.
I like our kind of strange though.
“Is Bek here?” Jason fixes his gaze on me.
I try not to smirk. I do. Honestly. Like, really hard. My cheeks hurt right now. But I fail. So badly. Oh, God, I fail so badly, and the corner of my mouth hikes up just a little.
“She’s in the bathroom. She should be back in a minute.”
“Nope. I know that look.” He wags his finger in the direction of my face, his own lips curving. “That’s the ‘I’m about to cause trouble’ look.”
“I’m offended that you think I cause trouble. I usually get people out of it!”
“Noelle, you’re wearing a devil costume just to piss off Nonna,” Drake reminds me.
“Are you on my side or what?” I glare at him then turn back to Jason. “Fine, fine,” I say, holding my hands up. “I was just going to be a good friend and suggest we kinda double-date to alleviate the awkwardness, but that’s okay. She can meet you at the bar. Don’t blame me when your balls are stuck in the neck of a beer bottle.”
Jason slowly moves his gaze from me to Drake. “Is she drunk?”
“She’s female,” Drake drawls in response. “And also, very true. Bek is a little neurotic tonight.”
“She’s neurotic every night,” I say under my breath as the door to the Holly Woods Inn opens.
Oooh, goodie. I hope that’s Nonna. Just to break the tension, you know? It’s like having a political conference in here two days before an election. Or two teenage girls fighting over the same hot jock.
It isn’t Nonna, but I’m not exactly upset at the arrival. Gianna Moretti sweeps through the room, garnering the attention of half the men she passes as she heads for us. She looks anything but happy—is that part of her costume though? Everything on the woman is black, including the wings on her back.
She also looks frazzled. Very frazzled. Her hair isn’t as smooth as usual, her dark eyes are clouded with annoyance, and there’s a tiny bit of red lipstick missing from her lower lip, as though she’s bitten a piece of skin off and forgotten to touch it up. I’ve rarely seen her like this, but she has enough Italian blood in her that God help anyone who pisses her off now.
“Are you all right, Mom?” Drake’s eyebrows draw together as Gianna approaches us and plasters a smile on her lips.
“Of course.” She kisses his cheek then leans across him to kiss mine. “How are you, cara ? Preparing for your funeral, I see?”
I grin. She knows what’s up.
“Trying to give the old bat a heart attack to remind her she won’t live forever.”
“Of course, of course.” She glances over her shoulder.
“Mom, are you sure you’re okay?” Drake asks.
“I’m fine. Just a little flustered with this dang dress. That’s all.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire!
“Let’s get a drink.” Drake puts his beer bottle on the table behind me and hooks Gianna’s hand through his elbow.
Before she can protest, he sweeps her off toward the bar, although it doesn’t stop her quiet murmur of annoyance.
“Damn,” Jason whistles, watching as she goes. “Is it me, or do Italians age really, really well?”
I slap his arm. “Stop that. You’re about to be on a date with my best friend. I will put my Louboutin up your ass.”
“I’m hearing that so often that I’m starting to think it’ll never happen.” A smile stretches across his handsome face.
“If you’re hearing it that often, then it means you’re a giant brat.” My smile matches his, but my eyes don’t linger on him for long. My gaze finds its way over his shoulder to where Drake and Gianna are standing at the bar. They’re discussing
Jason’s eyes flick between us, and he pauses, rubbing his thumb across his jaw. “Has anyone ever asked you two how the hell you make this relationship work?”
“More than once. We don’t know, either.”
I… Wait, yeah. That’s kinda true. We are a little strange.
I like our kind of strange though.
“Is Bek here?” Jason fixes his gaze on me.
I try not to smirk. I do. Honestly. Like, really hard. My cheeks hurt right now. But I fail. So badly. Oh, God, I fail so badly, and the corner of my mouth hikes up just a little.
“She’s in the bathroom. She should be back in a minute.”
“Nope. I know that look.” He wags his finger in the direction of my face, his own lips curving. “That’s the ‘I’m about to cause trouble’ look.”
“I’m offended that you think I cause trouble. I usually get people out of it!”
“Noelle, you’re wearing a devil costume just to piss off Nonna,” Drake reminds me.
“Are you on my side or what?” I glare at him then turn back to Jason. “Fine, fine,” I say, holding my hands up. “I was just going to be a good friend and suggest we kinda double-date to alleviate the awkwardness, but that’s okay. She can meet you at the bar. Don’t blame me when your balls are stuck in the neck of a beer bottle.”
Jason slowly moves his gaze from me to Drake. “Is she drunk?”
“She’s female,” Drake drawls in response. “And also, very true. Bek is a little neurotic tonight.”
“She’s neurotic every night,” I say under my breath as the door to the Holly Woods Inn opens.
Oooh, goodie. I hope that’s Nonna. Just to break the tension, you know? It’s like having a political conference in here two days before an election. Or two teenage girls fighting over the same hot jock.
It isn’t Nonna, but I’m not exactly upset at the arrival. Gianna Moretti sweeps through the room, garnering the attention of half the men she passes as she heads for us. She looks anything but happy—is that part of her costume though? Everything on the woman is black, including the wings on her back.
She also looks frazzled. Very frazzled. Her hair isn’t as smooth as usual, her dark eyes are clouded with annoyance, and there’s a tiny bit of red lipstick missing from her lower lip, as though she’s bitten a piece of skin off and forgotten to touch it up. I’ve rarely seen her like this, but she has enough Italian blood in her that God help anyone who pisses her off now.
“Are you all right, Mom?” Drake’s eyebrows draw together as Gianna approaches us and plasters a smile on her lips.
“Of course.” She kisses his cheek then leans across him to kiss mine. “How are you, cara ? Preparing for your funeral, I see?”
I grin. She knows what’s up.
“Trying to give the old bat a heart attack to remind her she won’t live forever.”
“Of course, of course.” She glances over her shoulder.
“Mom, are you sure you’re okay?” Drake asks.
“I’m fine. Just a little flustered with this dang dress. That’s all.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire!
“Let’s get a drink.” Drake puts his beer bottle on the table behind me and hooks Gianna’s hand through his elbow.
Before she can protest, he sweeps her off toward the bar, although it doesn’t stop her quiet murmur of annoyance.
“Damn,” Jason whistles, watching as she goes. “Is it me, or do Italians age really, really well?”
I slap his arm. “Stop that. You’re about to be on a date with my best friend. I will put my Louboutin up your ass.”
“I’m hearing that so often that I’m starting to think it’ll never happen.” A smile stretches across his handsome face.
“If you’re hearing it that often, then it means you’re a giant brat.” My smile matches his, but my eyes don’t linger on him for long. My gaze finds its way over his shoulder to where Drake and Gianna are standing at the bar. They’re discussing
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