Chapter Twenty-Three

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A/N: I tried to get this chapter out a little quicker considering I have a break right now. I hope you all enjoy it!

Warning: This chapter is LITERALLY 10,200 words. I'm so sorry! I couldn't find a good place to stop and I just...*sigh* and grammatical errors are probably everywhere.

Comment, comment, comment! Please?

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"So, who's hoe numero cinco?"

Liam slid himself into the driver's seat of his silver Mercedes. He threw his phone into a cup holder on the side, revved the engine, and buckled his seatbelt. Switching the car into drive, we peel out the driveway before William could even get the rest of his leg in the car, the door still wide open.

"Jesus Christ," Will lays on the back seat, breathing heavily at his brief encounter with death. Liam doesn't say anything at first, but I catch him looking in the rearview mirror. I was positive he was purposely speeding as I felt myself sinking into the passenger seat, but with the light ahead of us turning red, he slams on the breaks. He slams on them so hard in fact I feel myself leaning forward, only protected by the handy-dandy seatbelt.

William wasn't wearing a seatbelt. The scruffy blonde haired man was flipped from the backseat, landing on the ground behind us with a thud, multiple curse words, and a groan.

I catch Liam smiling.

His wrist rests lazily over the steering wheel, his other hand planted on his thigh. Within the span of a red light turning green, he pulls his lips into his mouth, licks them, angles his head towards the window, and watches a woman with leggings on cross the street in front of us. I clear my throat as he releases the brake and allows us to continue our journey to Rico's apartment.

It was clear he was still pissed from his earlier argument with his stepmother, so I treaded lightly during our conversation.

I clear my throat again, bringing my fist up to my mouth and everything for emphasis. Liam leans his head back and glances at me out the corner of his eye, both of us making eye contact. I smile sweetly, "You didn't answer my question."

"Hoe number cinque," He corrects me flawlessly, "Cinco is Spanish; Cinque is Italian." He twists his wrist just enough on the wheel to cause it to hit the sun perfectly, sending a glare my way. I nod at the unwanted language lesson and glance out the window at the passing of developmental homes.

I couldn't wait to move out on myself; no more sharing bathrooms, nor would there be any parents telling me when or when I couldn't come home - as if I had a party life. Hah.

"Well, yes, then hoe number cinque," The word didn't exactly flow off my tongue the same way it did off Liam's, but he got the gist. I finish staring out the window and turn back towards the interior of the car, pointing at his phone. "Honestly, I'm just curious, because number five? Really?" Luciano lets out a hearty laugh.

"You cannot take any of my contacts seriously," He says through a smile, "Not on that phone, anyways." Liam switches hands, giving his other a rest as he handles the steering wheel. "But Hoe number five is Will."

I let out a laugh and snag his phone. He quickly reminds me of the password, allowing me to scroll through. The car falls silent, even Will is silent in the back, scrolling down his phone also. Through his entire contact list, I felt myself smiling. I pause, my finger slowly coming to a stop when I eye a name.

Luciano | Book I ✓Where stories live. Discover now