30 minutes later
At Hooters, the music was booming and loud. Watching the girls walking in their orange shorts made uncomfortable in my skin. A good amount of Aphrodite class chics have passed by our tables, all thanks to Will. He smiled at them occasionally and then small talked about stupid shit like 'politics', 'India', and 'bureaucracy'. Roms was the only one laughing at his poor jokes, but half a minute later, she busy texting someone. My best bet was that it's Kade. While the thought of apologizing to him hasn't chewed out my brain yet, I was waiting for the right moment to break it up to him.
"Would you like to check out our spicy dip sauce, sir?" One of the Hooters leggy blonde walks to our table, she bends a little so that her cleavage flashed into Will's eyes.
"Sure." Will said, shooting her a smirk.
Why the hell did we dine out? We could do this at our apartment- drinking cold beer, and getting chicken wings, minus the girls.
"You seem a bit zoned out." Will said.
"Can't hear you." I lied.
"Is that Timothée Chalamet?" Will said, pointing to the other end, and I turned around to see a young man who was nothing like Timothée Chalamet. Fucker.
"You're a shitty liar." Will remarked and I rolled my eyes.
"No, I am not!"
"Yes, you are..."
We will probably start screaming, and no one will notice.
"Well, I am not interested in drinking cold beer and staring at half-dressed girls. Maybe that's why "I said.
"Oh. Well, I thought you'd appreciate the dress code here. No pencil skirts."He mocked.
Okay, this pencil skirt joke was now getting a tidbit boring. Will could try and come up with something of his own. He owns a fucking Bentley might as well brush his humor!
"Oh, you seem to take a liking to tank tops too!" I said.
"But they don't look good on half developed boobs." He said, and I choked on my beer.
Seriously? This man was going to talk 'boobs' at dinner?
"You seem quite amused surrounded by high-school cheerleaders!"I said, trying to change the topic.
The lights went off once again as we nibbled on the chicken wings. Okay, someone had flipped the leaf to see the statue's manhood, and the whole booth went 'Wow'. What's that amusing about dicks? It's not like they were a rare breed of dinosaurs. They are everywhere, only a bit overrated. Like the one in front of me!
"I wish I could say the same. But my reasons for amusement beg to differ." He said.His grey eyes turned all playful, and then his cheeks turned red.
I speak too soon for my bad.
He sounded close to something that came out of an 80's classic novel, but what can you expect from the CEO of Bexley's Publishing. He has read thousands of manuscripts in his life as a senior editor. He still does that despite his title allowing him to doze off. He is passionate but crazy all the same.
I glanced at Will. He seemed more of his age and less of a business mogul as he vibed to Hooters' music. Hooters has a great music taste. I could almost feel the tension in my nerves loosen up.
"You two, I hate to say this, but I have to go," Romilda said, a bit worried.
"What happened?" I asked, reflecting on my concerns.
"Kade needs me. I have to go."
"I hope it's not serious. Let me come with you." I said.
"No!"
Roms and Will both said in unison. Was I missing out on something? I looked at both of them questioningly.
"Kade has some private matters that need assistance," Romilda said.
"Okay, but why are you talking like a '90s marquess?"I asked.
Roms doesn't do private and assistance in one sentence. I knew that much to be called her friend.
"Uh-" She seemed startled.
"It's okay. Take care." I said, pulling her into a hug, I patted her back.
"Treat him well." She whispered in my ears.
Him, who? Will Turner? Well, that depends.
Roms stormed out of Hooters. The stilettos she put on were crazy for walking down the street. Maybe she'll get a cab.
I sighed as another set of young women greeted Will at our booth.
"They are drooling over you," I said, trying to be jovial.
"I am all that... Ain't I?" He said rather bashfully.
"If I were you, I would not say so." That seemed to take a toll on him. His eyebrows arched. His lips tried to get a bite of the chicken wings. Rather softly, he parted them, placing the corner in his mouth and devoured it gently. He swallowed and then smiled.
"You are staring." He said.
Shit. Watching Will Turner eat chicken wings made me tickle in places other than tickle spots. Hot.
"You have something on your face," I said, lying.
"Really? Where?" He asked, wiping the corner of his mouth with the tissue.
"Oh, let me help," I said.
I leaned closer to him, making my way to his seat. The lights turned off once again. Thank God, else he could not see me turning into a cherry tomato red. Caressing the corners of his mouth with my bare fingers, I traced his lips. They were gentle against my fingers. When the light filled in, his eyes met mine, and I felt a lump forming in my throat, unable to speak.
"The..re.. we go, "I said, finding it hard to get the words out.
He stared calmly, none of us speaking a word. The Hooters music filled the silence between us, and then there was his cologne. The musky scent his office is always reeking of- Will Turner edition.
I got back to my seat, getting a mouthful of chicken.
Rule 1 of dining at Hooters: Eat the chicken wings till you can't eat in seven lifetimes.
Rule 2: Hold your alcohol because the staff is females- no muscles to carry you around.
Rule 3: Maintain distance from a sexy man with soft lips.
I was trying hard to follow all of them.
After the lip tracing incident, Will barely made a half-ass joke. Instead, he would catch a glance sometimes and look away when our eyes met. It was getting awkward between us.
"There you go!" Will smiled at the young blonde in Hooters' uniform.
I took her to be nineteen, or at the best twenty. Her physique was lean, and she wore studs with dark eyeliner. Will gave her a 1-C note tip. She eyed him adorably for a while and turned away. So Will Turner was into thin, petite blondes? That's his ideal type.