Pecan perks up. “And you’d know how?”
“My brother had one before he moved to NYC.”
“Isn’t that the perfect place for a sports car? They’re for showing off!”
“Nah, Denny, the traffic means the only people you’re showing off to are the ones on the sidewalk. Here, you can let the twelve-cylinder engine rip on the back roads.”
A couple more people walk past just as a familiar face opens the door.
“Bastard.” I jerk to my feet.
“Be patient,” Callan warns.
A crinkling sound comes from the corner of the sectional where Pecan’s broken into the snacky snacks. “Makes complete sense this jackass would have a car that drives him.”
“Hey, you brought snacks but none for us?” Denny sulks.
Pecan graces her with a shit-eating grin as he gnaws on some Cheetos. “We could have shared from the bag, but I refuse to sit in between you on the wet spot.”
“I wish it were wet,” I jibe.
I’m about to head off and find us something to eat when one of the people, minding their own business, steps into Dyers’s path.
The dick elbows him in the side. “Watch where you’re going, cretin.”
The guy staggers and ends up glancing off the Lambo. Wincing, he plants his hands on it to stabilize himself.
“Don’t touch my car, man. I just had it detailed!” The passerby frowns at him, but Dyers only sneers, “Though, that’s probably as close as you’ll getto a Lamborghini in your life.”
A split second later, the man, rubbing his hip, rights himself and is back on his way.
It’s such a run-of-the-mill interaction that I don’t even notice the deep line flowing over the side of the car. Not until Denny bounces on the couch and offers a round of applause. “Just look at that scratch, baby. That’ll need to be stripped down to the metal.”
“How did you even find him, Denny?”
“I have my ways, Callan,” she chortles.
“You paid someone to key that Lamborghini, D?” Pecan screeches.
“Someone wasn’t listening to the plan,” Callan chides.
“Hey, my heart was breaking!”
“It’s why he’s eating my mom out of house and home. I swear it’s a good thing Franklin’s rich as Croesus. He needs it for all the guys we have to feed under this roof! Now, stop interrupting. I want to watch!”
Dyers, completely unaware of what just happened under his nose, brushes off his jacket like the pedestrian’s touch was contagious and he strides toward the house.
The cocky asshole clicks the alarm over his shoulder and secures the sports car.
Seconds later, a tow truck pulls up.
As soon as the process begins, it takes me a few seconds to see that Pecan’s deigned to shuffle closer because Denny’s diving into the Cheetos and watching the show like it’s one of her reality TV programs.
I curl my arm around her shoulders and settle back too.Then I smile when she holds out a Cheeto for me to take.
Pecan kicks up his heels then complains, “I can’t believe I’m sitting on your sex couch.”
“You’ve fucked on every square inch of our apartment,” Denny says absentmindedly. “You’ll get over it. I did.”
