“There’s a word for that.”
“Don’t you dare say hangry.” He stopped and turned around. “Don’t say it, whisper it, yell it, or communicate it in any way.”
I nodded and waited for him to resume walking down the stairs. “Don’t need to after your beautiful demonstration.”
Downstairs,Sugar gave us a brief tour of the clubhouse before leading us to a table and instructing us to sit. By brief tour, I mean he pointed out the bathrooms and the kitchen. “You don’t need to go anywhere else,” he said.
“Well, thank you, kind sir. Whatever would we do without you telling us what to do,” I said mockingly. “That drop of respect goes both ways.”
Sugar glared at me.
Fuck, he was hot when he was pissy.
“You have to earn that,” he said, repeating my words.
“Oh, good! You listen.”
A woman suddenly appeared by our table and gasped. “Birdie!”
“Charli!” Birdie said and jumped up to hug her.
Charli stepped back and wiped tears from underneath her eyes. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
“I didn’t think you would either,” Birdie said.
“I wish things could have been different. I think we would’ve been great friends.”
“Me, too,” Birdie said. “But I had two little boys at home. Getting shot scared me.”
“It scared me too,” Charli said. “I didn’t go back to Liquid Anarchy for years after that night. I still don’t go over there very much.”
Sugar whistled loudly, causing the room to fall silent. “Prospects! Food,” he bellowed and pointed to our table. When he noticed everyone looking at him, he shrugged. “I can’t leave her, and I’m fucking hungry.”
Bean materialized out of nowhere and appeared beside Sugar. “How is it?” he asked quietly.
“Been better,” Sugar grumbled.
Bean nodded. “Thought so. You’re limping.”
“Fuck,” Sugar breathed.
“You want something?”
“Fuck yes, but I can’t have anything good while I’m responsible for her. It’ll be fine if I stay off it for a while. If not, Slit’s pain strain helps.”
Sugar looked up and caught me eavesdropping. “So, how did you two meet?” I asked, ignoring the obvious.
“We met in prison,” Sugar said.
“How stereotypical. Or is it cliché? Either way, I think you two have the most boring meet-cute at this table.”
“A what-what?” Bean asked.
“Do not engage,” Sugar said. “Just nod like an NPC.”
“A what?”
“A non-player character,” I answered. “And a meet-cute is a cute or funny story about how two people met.”
