7. Braxton #2
Vanessa looks at my hand then to me for a few beats until she slides her palm in mine. “What?”
She lets out an adorable squeal of surprise when I haul her off the bed and catch her in my arms so she doesn’t fall over.
“Tequila shots,” I say with a slight grin.
Vanessa chuckles and steps away from me to grab her bag then heads toward the door. “I like how your brain works, Braxton.”
I smile as she opens the door to the hotel hallway. “I’m a pretty big fan of yours myself.”
Walking into Hole in the Wall is certainly a different experience than I had the first and only time I’ve been here.
Mainly, there’s no one with any weapons pulled this time.
No, this time, the would-be attacker is standing next to me instead of sitting at the bar ready to stab some asshole who doesn’t know how to take no for an answer.
Clyde looks up from the paper he’s reading, and a wide smile stretches across his lined face. “Well, look at what the cat dragged in.”
“Maybe the cat will drag out the rats,” Vanessa says, walking up to the bar.
Clyde huffs out a puff of air. “Girl, there are no rats in my bar. I run a clean establishment.”
“My mistake. It must have been a figment of my imagination last time I was here.”
“I’ve thrown people out for less shit talk than you’re spewing now,” he shoots back, crossing his arms across his meaty chest.
Vanessa makes a dramatic show of looking around the bar. “By the looks of it, you can’t afford to throw anyone out, old man.”
Clyde holds her stare with a grumpy one of his own for a few moments before laughter bursts from him. “Damn, I missed your sass, girl. Where you been?”
Vanessa smiles and nods toward me. “I moved. Been staying with this guy. Remember him?”
Clyde looks at me, and I see the recognition in his eyes—which impresses the hell out of me. “Sure I do. And I remember you two making a pretty penny off those kids a few years ago. How you been?” he asks, holding out his hand.
“Good, Clyde. How about yourself?” I ask, gripping the man’s hand in a firm shake.
“Can’t complain. I mean, I could—”
“But no one would listen,” Vanessa interjects. “You say the same thing every time someone asks.”
Clyde looks to Vanessa then back to me. “Your girlfriend give you as much shit as she gives me?”
“I’m not his girlfriend. We’re just roommates,” Vanessa clarifies.
“What she said,” I say, nodding toward Vanessa. “And yes to what you asked.”
Clyde lets out a full belly laugh and turns, grabbing a bottle of tequila and a couple shot glasses. “Your usual,” he asks both of us.
I guess coming here once five years ago and drinking tequila means I have a “usual” in Clyde’s eyes.
“Please. And you can put it on Braxton’s tab,” Vanessa says, shooting me a bright smile. “That’s for you stalking me and making me stay in New York for the night.”
“Following up on my concern for your safety, not stalking. And I didn’t exactly twist your arm to stay.”
“No, but you suggested we visit Clyde. That’s practically the same thing.
” Vanessa lifts the shot glass, and I do the same.
“May the winds of fortune find you. May you sail a gentle sea. May it always be the other guy who says this drink’s on me.
” She clinks her glass with mine and downs the shot as I drink mine, shaking my head with amusement.
“You have your hands full with that one,” Clyde tells me, nodding toward Vanessa.
An unbidden smile stretches wide across my face. “Don’t I know it.”
After two hours, three games of pool, and more tequila, Vanessa complains about being hungry and Clyde throws a bag of pretzels toward her.
“Always such a gentleman, Clyde,” she says as she tears the bag open and starts crunching the small twists in her mouth.
“Not exactly the dinner I had in mind,” I say, stealing one from the bag.
She jerks the bag back against her chest. “Hey, get your own crusty bartender who throws pretzels at you.”
“I heard that,” Clyde calls from the other end of the bar as he pours drinks for a new group of guys who walked in.
“I wasn’t trying to be quiet,” Vanessa retorts. The two of them have been throwing barbs back and forth, smiling like it’s old times.
I lean toward Vanessa and place my mouth against her ear. “If you think holding those pretzels against your perfect fucking tits is a deterrent for me reaching for them, you are sorely mistaken.”
A smile stretches across my lips as Vanessa releases a shuddering breath before I lean back. When our eyes meet, her pupils are blown wide and a pretty blush trails down her neck and over her chest.
“Clyde,” I call without breaking my gaze from Vanessa’s. “Can I have my tab please? My girl here is hungry.”
Vanessa arches a brow, picking up on the double meaning before setting the bag of pretzels on the bar. “You going to take me out to dinner?”
I nod. “I can do that.”
“What if I say we stop for a slice to go at the pizza place next to the hotel and head back to our room?”
“What? Is dinner too close to a date for you?”
Vanessa clears her throat and looks away for a brief moment. Yeah, she knows I can read her.
“I happen to like New York Pizza. It’s not the same anywhere else,” she replies, deflecting my question like a pro.
“Good thing I like pizza, too.”
I could call her out on it, but the fact that I’m going to spend the night in bed with the woman is probably pushing it far enough. At least for tonight.
Clyde hands me a handwritten receipt, and I throw cash on the bar.
Vanessa hops up from her stool as I stand and slide my wallet back into my pocket.
Clyde comes around to the other side of the bar and opens his arms for Vanessa.
When she steps into him for a hug, I swear I see the old man’s eyes get a little misty.
“It was good seeing you, girl. Take care of yourself,” he says.
“I always do. I’ll be back to see you soon.”
When they part, Clyde gives her a long look. “Drop me a line when you get to where you’re going.”
Vanessa lets out a light laugh. “I’ll be back in no time for your watered-down tequila.”
Clyde rolls his eyes. “You and that smart-ass mouth,” he says with a small smile.
His eyes dart to me, and he levels me with a look that I could only imagine a father would give his daughter’s boyfriend.
Not that I’ve had much experience with those kinds of looks, especially not since joining the Black Roses.
“Take care of our girl, Braxton,” Clyde says. “I know she thinks she has it all figured out, but you look after her.”
“She is standing right here,” Vanessa says.
“I know,” Clyde says, looking at her. “And I know that she has a mouth that could get her into trouble. Just need to make sure there’s someone looking out for you.”
“I’ve got her, Clyde. You don’t have to worry,” I reassure him and hold out my hand for him to shake. “You have my word.”
When his hand squeezes mine, he nods once then slaps me on the shoulder before heading back behind the bar. “Alright. Get out of here before you scare away more customers, girl.”
Vanesa laughs. “I’ll see you soon, Clyde.”
By the time we walk out to the sidewalk, the sun is beginning to set, casting the city in a golden glow.
I look at Vanessa, and if I were a romantic man and this wasn’t what it is, I’d tell her how beautiful she looks in her jeans and her tight T-shirt with that glowing smile on her face.
But this isn’t a relationship, and I’m not particularly romantic.
Especially considering I can’t keep my eyes from wandering to where her shirt is stretched tight against her tits.
“My eyes are up here, pal,” Vanessa says as she lowers her sunglasses over her eyes.
“Yeah, but your tits aren’t, and I like looking at those.”
Vanessa barks out a laugh and grabs my hand, pulling me down the sidewalk. “Come on, I’m starving.”
“Me too, sweetheart.”
After a couple minutes, Vanessa and I walk into the pizza place that touts itself as having the best slice in NYC.
If the mouthwatering scent of garlic and oregano that permeates the air is anything to go by, I’m inclined to agree.
Vanessa orders us two slices that are bigger than my damn head and a couple of sodas to go.
I pay the kid at the front counter who blushes when Vanessa thanks him, shooting him a sweet smile before we walk outside.
Lifting the giant slice to my mouth, I struggle as I try to take a bite from the floppy edge.
“You’re doing it wrong.” Vanessa folds the slice in half so that the crust doesn’t dip down and takes a giant bite, moaning as she chews.
That fucking moan.
I copy her, and when the flavor of melted cheese and the best damn sauce I’ve ever tasted hits my tongue, I understand the decadent moan she just released.
“Fuck, this is good,” I say and take another huge bite.
“It’s one of my favorite places. I’d usually stop by on my way to Hole in the Wall and grab a slice for me and Clyde when I’d get off work.”
“Clyde’s a good guy. You ever bring your ex in there to meet him?” Considering what a piece of shit Vanessa’s ex turned out to be, I’m a little surprised Clyde wouldn’t have warned her away from him. Or maybe he did, and Vanessa didn’t listen.
Vanessa swallows hard and shakes her head. “Nope. You’re the only guy who’s ever met him. But it doesn’t really count since you came in there on your own that first time.”
And there she goes, making sure her walls are in place and that I see them plain as day.
We walk in silence, enjoying our pizza and the hum of the city. Strolling through the lobby of the hotel, Vanessa presses the call button for the elevator. When the doors open and she steps inside, she leans against the mirrored wall, and I match her stance on the opposite side.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” I ask as the elevator takes us to our floor.
“So many things,” she responds with a twist to her lips.
“Care to share?” I ask when the door opens.
Vanessa steps out of the elevator, and I trail behind her, watching the way her ass sways in her tight denim.