Page 40 of Bourbon Truths
“Last one you will hear tonight, promise.”
“That’s a promise I hope you plan on breaking.” She smiled. “I’m happy for you and the girls. You’ve worked so hard putting together the center. I know it will do great.”
“I’ll be excited when everything is done. The housing portion will take the longest since Jett decided to offer miniature apartments for those seeking refuge. But for now, having the classes and gym open will be sufficient. It’s a work in progress.”
“Are you getting yourself ready to teach some boxing lessons?”
I shrugged. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about the whole thing. I didn’t want to teach adults how to box, at least not right away, because they would be the ones who knew who I’d been, so I decided to hold classes for kids at first and some self-defense classes too.
“You seem apprehensive,” Lyla pushed. Just like Goldie, she never let anything just go.
“Not sure how I feel about it all,” I said, gripping her hand a little tighter. I never brought up my past profession, ever, so talking about giving boxing lessons was bordering on uncomfortable since it was so close to what I used to do.
“Self-defense lessons seems like an interesting class. I might join in on the fun.”
Grateful for the change in subject, I smirked. “Is that right?”
“Yeah, and I might need a practice dummy. You would be the perfect match.”
“Watch what you ask for, sweetheart. If I was your practice dummy, I wouldn’t take it easy on you.”
“You know I like it hard, so no worries.”
Fuck if I didn’t just grow stiff from the way she bit her lip and looked at me seductively. Her thumb continued to graze my skin as heat poured off her. No matter how far I tried to push her away, she always managed to work her way back into my life somehow.
Our waitress brought over our plate of boudin, smiled, and left.
“Did you see that?” Layla asked as she grabbed one of the small plates on the table and put it in front of her.
“See what?” I asked.
“She was totally checking you out, right in front of me.”
“Do you blame her?” I said in an egotistical tone, holding my arms out so she got a good view of my chest.
Lyla crossed her arms. “The man doesn’t have manners but can be a cocky son-of-a-bitch when he wants to be.”
“What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”
She shook her head and looked down at the boudin. “Well, this is not what I was expecting. They changed things on me.”
“Yeah, these are fried balls, huh. Never seen boudin like this.” I grabbed one and popped it in my mouth, not worried about the heat coming off them since I practically had a metal mouth. I swallowed and said, “Not bad.”
“Well, that was a disgusting display of macho eating.”
“Macho eating?” I asked. I watched her take a ball and use her fork to cut into it. Steam evaporated in the air.
“Did you even chew it?”
“Yeah, of course I did. Only need a couple of chews to get it down the gullet.”
I grabbed another and tossed it in my mouth, quickly making that one go down as well. There were four on the plate, so the last one was for Lyla. Pleased, I sat back and watched her eat.
In disbelief, she shook her head at me and then put the rest of the boudin in her mouth. She struggled significantly with its size and heat, and her eyes watered while she tried to cool the boudin down by breathing out of her mouth and taking swallows of water. After some fancy mouth maneuvering, she was able to break the ball down and swallow. She held her mouth open for me and said, “Ta-da!”
I looked around and then leaned forward. “Should I clap?”
“You better fucking clap. That was torture.”
