Page 28 of His Favorite Felon

“Then take me home.” She took a step back, putting some distance between us.

My smile faded, and so did hers. For half a second, something passed between us. Because she meant it, not completely but enough. She was quick to leave before anyone could leave her first, a realization that became more apparent with each passing minute in her presence.

I lowered my voice. “Justice, I don't want you to go home.”

Her eyes searched mine. “Then stop acting as if I bother you or like I’m so annoying.”

“You do bother me. I’m only teasing. You are annoying in the best ways. ” I admitted.

Her face hardened, and she was about to turn to walk away. I caught her hand before she could turn. “But I like that shit.”

She rolled her eyes. “You get on my nerves.”

“You like me though.” I teased.

“I used to,” she lied. I knew that she would not be here with a nigga like me if she ain’t like me.

But hearing her say used was another reminder that she didn’t see me for who I am. She saw Chase when she looked at me. This was part of a relationship that belonged to my brother. I wish I had told her right then and there.

I should've pulled her into that private hallway and explained everything before this shit got worse.

Instead, I lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles before I spoke my truth. “I’ll make you like me again.”

Her expression softened just a little.

“That's going to cost you.”

I smiled. “Money ain't an issue.”

“I wasn't talking about money.”

That shut me up. Justice pulled her hand free and started up the stairs. I followed behind her, watching her ass and wondering how the fuck somebody I'd known for such a short time could already make me feel guilty.

When we reached my section that Chyanne had reserved for me, the waitress immediately approached with a huge smile on her face. Whenever I was in the building, they knew they were getting crazy bankroll from me as a tip.

“Mr. Legend.” She acknowledged me with a nod. As I pulled, I motioned for Trouble to sit. I took a seat beside her, but sitting on the end of the booth. I could’ve sat across from her, but I was trying to be all up on her thick ass, on god.

Justice glanced at me.

I nodded towards Trouble and told the waitress, “Bring whatever she wants.”

The waitress looked at Justice, waiting on her to place her order.

Justice looked at me. “Whatever?”

“Whatever,” I confirmed with a head nod.

Her eyes narrowed. “You might regret saying that.”

“I won’t,” I said nonchalantly.

She leaned back against the booth. “Okay, Mr. I Got Money To Blow. I want champagne.”

“That’s easy.” I shrugged.

“The expensive kind.” She said to our waitress.

“Ohhhkay… Anything else?” the waitress asked, looking at Justice and then at me.