“I don’t know, Starlet.” He rubs the back of his neck and blows out a breath. “This is a hot mess, baby. And you know I can’t let my personal feelings get in the way. Whatever my prez decides to do…”
Yeah, I know the rules. Bros before hoes. That’s the law—or some variation of it. Even for a man like Brick. Keeping that in mind, I change the subject.
“Where’s your family live?”
He looks at me. “Small talk time?”
“How about we call it a friendly conversation.”
“I have cousins in Philly.”
“And your parents?”
“My father’s in Arlington.”
“Arlington, Texas?”
“No. Arlington National Cemetery.”
Jesus… I didn’t mean to dig. “I’m so sorry, Brick.”
“Don’t be, he was a miserable fuck and an even worse father.”
I know the feeling, I really do. Pain etches Brick’s face, his dark eyes especially.
“What about…”
“Don’t ask about my mother,” he cuts me off.
“Okay, I won’t. What’s your favorite kind of food?”
A wicked grin lights up his features as he stares between my legs.
“Real food.”
“Steak. Potatoes. How about you?”
“I love Mexican and Sushi.”
“I’ll never eat raw fish.”
“Why not?”
“Parasites.”
“There’s other options, you know. Smoked fish, crab, eel…” Maybe I can convince him to try a Sushi roll or something.
“Pizza. Burgers. Even chicken. I like to eat animals that live on land.”
“But you’re in Cajun country now, surrounded by water.”
“Philly has a major port. I grew up around water. Doesn’t mean I want to eat anything fished out of it.”
“That’s very revealing.”
“How so?”
“I wouldn’t have expected you to be so closed minded considering you’re a nomad.”
