Chapter 23
I’m deep in thought on the drive home. We’d taken Mack’s truck--a big black truck with tinted windows that still has the new car smell. I’m looking out the window wondering where the hell Alex is, when Mack says, “I can roll my r's like that too, you know.”
“What?” I blink over at him in the dim light of the truck.
“Gabriella.” He rolls his r’s when he says it.
I shake my head cause I don't get it and he sounds ridiculous. “What?”
“I just thought you should know that Javier isn't the only one who can roll his tongue like that.”
I laugh. “What are you talking about?”
“He kept saying your name.”
“Ok. And?”
Mack shrugs those huge shoulders. “I didn’t like it.”
That probably shouldn't make me feel as good as it does. “I didn’t even notice,” I say, honestly.
Mack looks over at me. “Want to go out to dinner sometime?”
I shrug. “Sure, I could eat.”
When I glance back at over at him, he’s grinning. “I mean on a date, Gabriella.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
“Ok.” I try to play it cool, but it’s too hard and I end up smiling.
“You like Mexican food?”
“My Grandma was from Oaxaca. Of course I like Mexican.”
“Good.” He flicks on his blinker. “I know a great little spot.”
“Now?”
Mack arches a brow. “You got somewhere else to be?”
“Well, Javier was supposed to come over, and--” I break into a laugh when Mack gives me a deadpan look with both eyebrows raised.
“You’re something else,” he grumbles, but there’s a hint of a smile on his face.
The Mexican spot is awesome. It’s a hole in the wall with crepe paper flags hanging from the ceiling and Christmas lights wound around every support post. The tables are filled with couples or families. There’s only two waitresses working, and they’re hustling to keep up.
One leads us to one of the only tables left--a huge corner booth.
She slides us a couple of laminated menus, then returns a minute later to plunk freshly fried tortilla chips and a pair of salsas down.
Mack jumps on the opportunity to order me a margarita.
The waitress just nods before she’s gone again.
“So to clarify,” I say, pressing my fingertips to the table. “Is this the date? Or is the date sometime in the future?”
“This is one of the dates.” Mack chooses a chip and dips it in the salsa. “Consider it a trial run.”
“Alright. Who’s on trial?”
I don't know why I’m teasing him. I probably shouldn't be in the mood. Then again, maybe I'm sick and tired of all the pressure and the worry. Maybe I need a little fun after how hard this week has been.
Mack opens his mouth to answer, but his eyes go over my shoulder and he wrinkles his nose, instead. “Aw, shit. I’m sorry, Gabs.”
A person appears at the end of our table. I don't know what I’m expecting--a catty ex-girlfriend, maybe? But it’s not the big blonde biker standing there who’s grinning down at us.
Mack’s told me a bit about his motorcycle club--that a bunch of them work together, that he lives with three other guys from the same club.
But I haven't met any of them until now. Well, apparently Dylan is the President of the club, but I barely met the guy and he wasn’t wearing his leather cut, like this guy is.
“So this is the girl you’re shacked up with, huh?” The blonde who’s grinning down at me is as handsome as Mack, just in a totally different way.
Mack shakes his head. “Gabriella, this is my roommate, Blake. Blake, this is Gabriella. I only hope he’s alone--”
Before he gets the words out, a red-head guy joins Blake at the edge of the table. “You’re right, Mack,” he says, grinning down at me. “She is hotter than a tamale.”
“I have never said that about you.” Mack points at me.
“You don't think I’m hot?” I quip.
“Yeah, you’re hot. But I didn’t say anything about a tamale. That’s this guy’s cheesy line, not mine.”
“This guy’s name is Axe.” He holds out a hand; when I take it, he flips mine over and deposits a lingering kiss on my knuckles. “My lady.”
“No, Axe.” Mack snaps his fingers until Axe drops my hand. “You leave her alone.”
“Sure, sure.” Axe slides into my side of the booth; I’ve got no choice but to scoot over, or he’ll end up in my lap.
He’s cute too, but I feel no spark of interest for either of them. It’s not their fault--next to Mack, every guy looks kind of bland.
“No,” Mack says, exactly in the tone he uses to scold Mooch. “You get out. Leave us alone.”
“Would you really deny your starving roommates sustenance?” Axe holds out his hands, his eyes wide and innocent. “There’s no other tables.”
A quick glance around the restaurant shows he’s telling the truth. We got the last one, and there’s a line in the entry.
“I'm sorry, Gabriella,” Mack says. “Rain check?”
“Nah.” I grin. “I like it like this. Trial by fire.”
“What are you two talking about?” Blake says, sitting on Mack’s side.
“Nevermind.”
Just then the waitress comes by with my margarita. I blink--the thing is huge, served in a mason jar.
“Oh, doesn't that look good,” Axe says, after I take a sip.
“It really is.”
“Can I try?”
“Of course.” I scoot the margarita over.
Mack says, “Don't let him drink from your glass. You don't know where that mouth has been.”
“I’m squeaky clean, I promise. I’ll even let the lady check.” Axe gestures gallantly at his own groin.
I laugh and shake my head. “Tempting, but I’ll pass.”
Axe takes a sip and smacks his lips. Mack rolls his eyes.
“I hear you’re a nurse,” Axe says, grinning. “Any chance your doctor’s office is accepting new patients?” He waggles his eyebrows in a suggestive way; I have to laugh.
“I like this guy,” I tell Mack.
“He has his moments, but this isn't one of them,” he grumbles.
Another guy in a leather cut appears at the end of our table.
“Well, hello,” he says to me, smiling.
He’s cute, too--in a mischievous, friend’s younger brother kind of way.
“Please tell me you didn't invite anyone else out tonight,” Mack says with a sigh as he scoots over some more. At least now we’re kind of sitting together again. His thigh is pressed to the outside of mine.
“Nah, just the roommates.” The new guy holds out a hand. “I’m Tucker. Nice to meet you, Gabriella.”
We do the greeting and the scooching thing until everyone is settled. The waitress brings over two more baskets of chips and another pair of salsas, takes their drink orders and leaves.
“Have you guys ever considered shooting a calendar?” I blurt. “Like, for charity?”
Blake laughs. “Please don't ever mention that in front of Georgia. She’ll have us stripped down and lubed up and holding puppies for the local no-kill shelter.”
I blink, cause it’s real easy to imagine. And once that image is in my head, it’s hard to get rid of. “You guys totally should. I’d buy that calendar.”
Axe raises an eyebrow. “You think it would be a good way to meet chicks?”
“Who says you’re included?” Blake says. “There’s only twelve months in a year. You really think you’re going to make the cut?”
“Well that’s fucking rude,” Axe says. “I bet there’s plenty of hot women out there who go wild for a ginger.”
“But you haven’t ever met any of them yet.”
“I’ll have you know I’m seeing a lovely lady at the moment.”
“And you’re still coming on to mine?” Mack asks with an arched eyebrow.
Something in my stomach goes warm and funny at the idea of being Mack’s. I keep my face unaffected, but I realize how much I want that. I wonder how serious he was about this being a date. I mean, it’s obviously not a date anymore, but was it ever a real date to begin with?
“But we wouldn't know her. She’s from Canada,” Blake says with a mischievous grin.
“Yeah, she goes to a different school,” Tucker adds.
“Look here, Prospect,” Axe starts.
“Ah, ah, ah.” Mack wags his finger. “He’s not a prospect anymore. He’s your brother.”
“Ugh.” Axe rolls his eyes. “Family is the worst.”
“You don't have to tell me that,” I quip.
Mack grins at me and squeezes my knee beneath the table. It’s one of the things I’m becoming addicted to--that he always seems to be able to read me. Even when I make a joke, if there’s something painful underneath, he catches it.
“Hey, girl!” Caitlin stands at the edge of the booth. “What are you doing here?”
“Is everyone we know here?” Mack says beneath his breath. He’s smiling though, so I grin back.
“Grabbing dinner,” I say. “You?”
“I came to order something to go.” She’s wearing her scrubs and I realize she just got off work. She smiles at the guys around the table. “This is a great ratio you’ve got going here.”
“Introduce us,” Axe whispers, jabbing me in the side with his elbow.
“What about your girlfriend?”
“She’s from Canada. She’s goes to a different school,” he stage-whispered.
I laugh and turn back to Caitlin. “Guys, this is my friend Caitlin, from work. Caitlin, you should join us if you don't have to run home.”
“Are you sure?” she asks, already sliding in next to Tucker.
I notice he doesn't seem sad that she sat next to him, and my match-antennae go up.
“This is actually great,” Axe says, leaning over the table. “You guys work together, right? You can give us the low-down on Gabriella.”
“Oh, no,” I murmur, my eyes wide.
Because most friends would see this as an opportunity to talk their friend up. But Caitlin will absolutely go for the worst possible, most embarrassing content ever. I mean, I love her, but the girl has no filter.
She leans forward, a devious smile on her face. “Want to hear about the time I caught her yelling porn?”
“Oh no.” I slap a hand to my forehead. “Anything but that. Please.”
Of course my reaction only increases the guys’s desire to hear it, so with very little encouragement, she launches into the story.
“So there’s story hour at the nursing home. And one day, the usual volunteer was out, so Gabriella, being the darling that she is, volunteers to fill in. Only, she didn't know that the book of the month was Desperate Desires.”
I can feel Mack staring at me. I can feel myself start to blush but I don't meet his eyes.
She continues, “Anyway, apparently one of the ladies who came to listen forgot her hearing aid, so the rest of the group turned them off in solidarity. I walk by just in time to hear poor Gabriella yelling a sex scene at the top of her lungs.” She turns to me with a grin.
“Wasn't it something about a quivering member?”
“It was not,” I scoff. I primly say, “I don't remember what it was about.”
“You liar.” She snaps her fingers. “That was it. It was something about nipples. Blowing on nipples, or twisting nipples. Something like that.”
“Okie dokie Caitlin.” I wave frantically at the waitress. “Let's get you a margarita and some chips. Basically anything to put in your mouth.”
She cackles. “That was the line! Take me, Reginald! Take me and put my nipples in your mouth!”
“Ugh.” I prop my head on my hand while the rest of the table breaks into laugher. I turn to Mack. “Can we go home yet?”
“I haven’t eaten,” he murmurs, in my ear. “Besides, I want to hear more about Reginald’s nipples.”