Page 11 of Craving Theodora
“Figured.”
“It’s gotta look real,” I said with a sigh, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees. “The old ladies know, there’s a chance they say somethin’—”
“Don’t have to explain it to me.”
“And don’t call women gross,” I said, shaking my head. “What are you, twelve?”
“Unattractive, then,” he corrected, waving me off. “You know what I mean. The women talk, and everyone knows your type.”
“Batshit crazy?”
“Pretty,” he replied dryly. “Hair color, body, all of that changes. You’ve always gone for the shit hot ones, though.”
“I haven’t even been back long enough—”
Draco shot me a look. “Name one time you’ve come home and haven’t hooked up with someone.”
“Fair point.”
We were quiet for a few minutes.
“Dylan’s not buyin’ it?” he asked, breaking the silence.
“I think he was confused,” I replied with a huff. “I figure he’ll stew on it for the next few hours, and I’ll get the questions when he calls to check in again.”
“You’re gonna have to make it look real,” Draco said quietly. “He’s not gonna believe it otherwise, and if he doesn’t, no one else will.”
“I know that.”
“Unless you think he can—”
“He’s seventeen,” I said flatly. “I’m not gonna let his ass swing out there knowin’ shit he needs to keep to himself.”
“We knew shit at seventeen.”
“Different kind of seventeen,” I countered. “My boy didn’t grow up in the club the way we did.”
“Good point,” he mumbled.
“He’d do his dad a solid. He’d keep his mouth shut if I asked him to,” I said, staring at the grass. It needed to be mowed. “Don’t want to ask him to.”
“So you’re comin’ home with an old lady, then,” Draco said, slapping me on the back. “Could be worse.”
“Yeah, how’s that?”
“You could be comin’ back from Sacramento with the clap.”
“Don’t even know the woman,” I said, shoving him as I climbed off the table. “For all we know, I’ll be comin’ home with the clap too.”
Draco laughed and shoved me back as he got to his feet.
“Yo, Curt,” Tommy called from across the forecourt. “You wanna check out your new place?”
It turned out the house in Draco’s neighborhood was the one the club had decided would best suit me. I couldn’t complain—the place was nice—but it would’ve been cool if I’d had a say in the matter. Two stories, four bedrooms, three and a half bathrooms, brand new kitchen, bonus room over the attached garage.
“How much is the rent?” I asked Tommy after the tour.
“Kara’d kill for this window,” Draco called from the kitchen.
