The Quirky Tale of April Hale (Quirky Series #1)

2.27. In case of unexpected feelings, press the STOP button

Alex smiled. "True."

"Tsk. You claimed that you're not doing it the mafia way anymore, but old habits die hard, huh?"

"No," Alex sipped his drink, then. "But I like to make sure that my people do their job well."

"Well, I'm not one of your people anymore."

"Our business is done, Ryder, the moment you paid the last bit of your debt plus interest," Alex said. "And you know I won't ever let 'my friends' hurt her."

Hearing the word 'done' from Alex Malifeci was truly freeing. But Ryder still found himself fuming. On one hand, he still really wanted to smash that Dom bottle into Alex's head. On the other hand, he knew that leaving for a gratuitous four years had been the best decision. While he really did make a mistake for breaking up with April at the first place, there were people, multiple close people, preventing him from going back.

After the third time trying, and the third time being told harshly how this would go sour quickly for everyone involved, Ryder had finally started to accept that maybe... maybe it was for the best. Even after his debt had been paid off and those burly people had gone off his back, he relented from coming home to her. It didn't seem... right. He didn't feel worthy.

But the moment he saw her again, the moment he saw her eyes darted on him and started to well up with tears...

Ryder knew, that no matter what other people might say, he wouldn't let go. Not now. Not ever. Not again.

"Thank you Alex."

"Well, fuck you too, Ryder."

They clinked glasses.

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2.27. In case of unexpected feelings, press the STOP button

Looking at May Hall felt like looking at me...

-If I had better clothes, better maintenance, and better Personal Trainer. May was wearing a white dress just like me, even though hers had holes in places where it shouldn't have holes (on the waist? On the small of her back? On the center of her chest? I bet she must have gotten a big discount for the dress, considering the amount of fabric they cut off from her dress).

"What are you looking at?" May snarled. I came to realize, after about five minutes spending time with her, that her form of communication came in snarls and grows, and sometimes, purrs (only when it came to Alex). She wasn't exactly the friendliest girl.

"Have we met before?" I asked her.

She gave me a strained once-over, and then concluded quickly, "No. I think most of my acquaintances will know how to dance in a club."

I took it as her way to tell me that my hands-wriggling move was an embarrassing form of a dance. I put my hands inside my dress-pockets (mine wouldn't have been discounted forever because dresses with pockets wouldn't ever go out in style).

"Why are they taking so long? They're just buying us some drinks, for God's sake."

Wow. She even sounded like me, if I were popular at high school.

"Are you sure we're not twins or anything?" I prodded again. "I mean, I do have a twin brother, but my mother joked that I might be switched at birth... now that I see you, I feel like my whole existence has been a big fat lie."

At this point, May was pointedly ignoring me.

We sat at the sofa, May's head nodding imperceptibly along with the music, while I only wriggled my fingers inside my pocket to prevent further annoyance on May's part.