the man of the house and his word is law, he knows better than to piss off my momma when she’s made up her mind about something.
In any event, it only bought me some extra time. Whether my heart is in it or not, I’ll eventually end up doing what they want. My father will be happy, Momma will be happy, and I’ll have them both out of my hair and not catch shit for doing my own thing as a hobby. I guess that will have to be enough. No one ever said you were born to be a hundred percent happy, right? You do what you have to and grab whatever joy you can in the little moments afforded to you.
I crack my knuckles, my wayward thoughts sullying my mood further. But thankfully, I don’t have time to dwell on things I can’t change, since Easton nudges me on the shoulder, grabbing my attention back to my current fucked-up predicament.
“There she is. That’s your girl,” he announces eagerly.
I’m about to correct, yet again, his absurd comment, but my coherent thoughts leave me when my eyes lock on the girl I’ve been destined to ruin.
Standing bored while taking the order from the table in front of us, she is exactly what I suspected a Southie-born girl to look like—only so much more. Her bluish-black hair is purposely wrapped in a messy bun to proudly showcase her numerous earrings on both lobes and the barbell piercing on her brow. The way she’s playing with her tongue as she writes down her patron’s order, tells me she’s got more piercings hidden on her body—the only thing she’s probably hiding since most of everything else is on display.
She’s got on a short, ripped-up top with a cut so deep at the front that you can’t help but stare at the red lace holding up two impressive, creamy breasts. The black shorts she’s got on barely covers her ass, but I think that’s intentional, so everyone can appreciate the red and black phoenix tattooed on her thick thigh.
All of her is too much. Too loud, and definitely too in your face. She’s nothing like the thin-twig debutant girls I’ve grown accustomed to. Not in the slightest. She’s all luscious curves, huge tits, and an even bigger ass. It’s like she was force-fed southern-fried cooking all her life while listening to Metallica—big, loud, and mean. Yep, that is the perfect description of Stone Bennett.
Even though she’s probably around five-foot-five, compared to my six-foot-four, she looks like she’d be able to swallow me in and spit me out with a fucking smile on her face. She’s not some wallflower that blossomed in the Southside dirt. She’s a force of nature who made that roughneck of the woods her bitch.
I’m so fucking screwed.
“She’s cute,” Easton has the audacity to say after taking stock of all of her features.
“You have got to be shitting me?” I bark out, outraged.
“What? She is. Actually, she’s more than cute. She’s fucking hot.” He smirks, going for another once-over of all her tempting curves.
I’m tempted to smack him upside the head for his constant staring at her thick thighs and small waist, but I play the indifference card instead.
“If I were looking for Marilyn Manson’s bride to be, then yeah, I’m sure she’d fit the bill.”
Easton stops his flagrant ogling of Stone, snapping his head toward me, his annoyed frown taking center stage on his face.
“Stop being such a prejudiced douche, Finn. Even you can appreciate her level of hotness.”
“I’m not being judgmental or anything. I just don’t like being with a girl who looks like she might cut my balls off rather than suck them,” I grumble, tapping my foot repeatedly on the floor to show my disgruntlement.
“Well, make sure her tongue doesn’t have any sharp objects then,” he teases me, cocking a brow and waving the girl in question over to our table. “However, you should be so lucky to have that mouth anywhere near your junk, you dick,” he hushes beneath his breath, all the while smiling over at Stone as she heads in our direction.
I stew in my own misery when she waltzes over with that same bored expression married to her lips, but not to her stunning, emerald eyes. As she comes closer, I can’t help the unnerving feeling that I like the color of her eyes way too much. They are the only light thing about her. Soft, green meadows that resemble cool, spring days.