The Chosen [Wolf + MxM]

The Chosen- Chapter 30

::CHAPTER 30::

Richard’s POV

 

I peered up at the restaurant we’d parked in front of. This is new. I’d passed this street a ton of times on my way to and from school. This place hadn’t been there before. There had been nothing but an abandoned parking lot, patchy grass and weeds last time I saw it.

Hopping off the bike, I scanned the outside. It was pretty big and the windows were tinted too dark to see inside. Nye cut off the engine and sidled up beside me.

“Nexus?” I read the white cursive writing above us.

“It came out a little after you left,” he grinned. “It’s really cool. You’ll love it.”

“I’m getting the feeling you’re a bit of a regular here.”

“And why would you think that?” he asked and walked through the door I held open for him.

“Alpha!” a group of people on one end called, waving at him.

“No, you’re right. That’s crazy talk,” I nodded.

“I’m not a regular,” he nudged me with an elbow and gestured at the interior, “I can’t afford to be.”

Looking around, I got what he meant. A place this flashy didn’t come cheap. There were a couple of bartenders pouring drinks, sure. But there was also a lineup of flairtenders too; pulling tricks, juggling bottles and glasses, doing balancing acts with liquor bottles and pouring drinks from the oddest angles. The music was upbeat and jazzy and the flairtenders somehow kept time dancing while mixing drinks and performing these feats for patrons who wanted a show. The LED lights under the transparent bar top gave the glasses and colorful drink the coolest look.

I wanted to take it all in some more, but Nye was already leading me to the group who’d hailed him out. One look at their eyes marked them as definitely human. They all were around my age but more rough around the edges, clad almost entirely in black with helmets on their laps and a round of beers on their table. “Bikers, Nye? You have biker friends?” I raised a brow chuckling, “Surprise after surprise.” He shot me a look that said to behave just before we reached them.

“I thought you forgot all about us, Alpha,” one grinned.

“Me? Never,” he leaned against the booth as comfortable as ever with an easy smile.

“Who’s your friend?” a woman asked nodding toward me.

“Richie – uh – Richard,” he corrected.

“Richie?” she laughed, “I’m guessing you have a monopoly on that name.”

“Of course,” I slung an arm around his shoulders, “You know how bossy he gets.”

“I am not bossy,” he said but even he had to laugh at the bold faced slie.

“Sure thing,” one of the guys scoffed. He got up, stretched over the table and held out a hand to me. He flashed a smile that was all kinds of invitations, “Hello there. They call me Misfit, but you can call me–”

“–an ambulance if you don’t sit your ass down, buddy,” Nye interjected as cool as if he were ordering him a drink.

“Aw man. He’s taken?” the woman asked.

“Very much so, Gaudy” he shrugged and gave me a once over, “Crying shame, really.”

“Yes,” I eyed him, “My boyfriend’s not the sharing kind it turns out.”