Page 46 of Two Tricks

“I love you girl, but no. I don’t think we will ever be at the level to do something like that,” Harper said, smirking at me. “So where are the other friends that were involved? Are they all that hot?” she whispered as I grabbed a beer out of the fridge.

I leaned in, seeing Picasso taking in the house. “Hotter.”

Harper groaned and flopped down on the barstool, head down on the counter. “Why don’t these things happen to me???”

“Guess you just need to keep trying, babe. I never expected to be all but kidnapped by five men at a party,” I consoled, rubbing her back. “So how do we feel about pizza and wings? Weston is gone for a few days on a consulting job and we all know I’m banned from the kitchen.”

“Sounds perfect, but I’m going to steal a shirt because I can’t risk getting grease on this fabric,” Harper said, heading upstairs. “Order us the usual, k’ babe?”

While Harper went to raid my room, I headed straight for Picasso. “You will not utter one word about Two Tricks, the Hidden Empire, our deal, or that you are with the Phantom Saints, am I clear? She knows nothing about that part of my life, and I plan to keep it that way.”

“Let me guess—you also want me to play along with this story you made up about us too,” Picasso said, grabbing the beer out of my hand and taking a long pull from the bottle.

I nodded yes.

“Fine, but just know that you are the one who came up with the story, not me.”

Scowling at him, I went back to the kitchen to grab another beer and dialed our favorite pizza place.

“Thank you for calling Lucifer’s Pizza, my name is Beth, how can I help you?”

“Hey Beth, it’s Dax,” I answered.

“Oh, hey girl! Are we doing the usual with wings or without?”

“With wings, but we are going to need the version for three people,” I said, trying to keep my voice down, seeing that Picasso was looking at me with raised eyebrows.

“You got it girl. We are delivering that to the same place, right?”

“Yup.”

“Alright, I got that all set for you, and we will put it on the tab. Should be to you guys in like twenty minutes!”

“Thanks Beth. Have a good night,” I said, hanging up.

“Eagle would have a fit if he knew that you ordered out enough to be on a first-name basis with the employees and have a ‘usual,’” Picasso laughed.

Rolling my eyes, I waved for him to follow me past the kitchen into the family room, or as we called it, “the cave.” It was painted a dark gray, setting off the stark white wall that the projector showed on. There were three recliners on a platform along the back wall and a large couch that was almost as deep as a bed. Pillows and blankets were scattered over the lower couch, making it a cozy nest to curl up in. Cupholders were cut into the fabric near the back of the couch for convenience.

“What the hell is this?” Picasso asked as he took in the room. “Is that a popcorn machine?”

I grinned at him as I crawled onto the couch. “You didn’t think we would just eat microwave popcorn like heathens, did you?”

“You can’t cook in the kitchen but you can use that thing to make popcorn?” Picasso questioned.

“No, I’m the one who makes the popcorn,” Harper shared, entering the room in a pair of my shorts and a t-shirt, which meant they turned into booty shorts and a crop top. “She will smoke us out of here if she touches that thing. This is the third one they’ve bought because she killed the other two.”

I watched Picasso as Harper made her way to the mini-fridge where her girly drinks were kept, but he didn’t follow her movements. Instead, he walked over to the built-in bookcases filled with hundreds of movies and TV shows. Trying to stifle my grin, I took a pull from my beer as Harper took her spot in the corner with her favorite blanket.

“What should we watch tonight?” I asked, knowing the battle that was about to begin.

Harper popped up and grabbed the notebook off the counter. “Let’s see, you picked the first movie last time, which was Alien vs. Predator, and my pick was Sleepless in Seattle. Guess that means I get to pick first this time!”

“Do I get a say in what we watch?” Picasso interjected.

“Actually, I don’t know—there’s never been a guest over for a pizza and movie night,” Harper said, tapping her painted nail on her chin. “I guess we just do what we do when Weston joins us.”

“What is that, exactly?” Picasso asked.