Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
“Yeah, but I’m right. What’s going on?”
Is this like the Molly situation? Does he somehow already know? Aubrey could’ve let it slip when Remy was at the gym without me. Should I have told him sooner?
I sit back and take a swig of juice, then brace my hands against the table. “This has to stay between you and me for now. Seriously. I’m not supposed to talk about it.”
The cocky attitude vanishes from his expression. Concern wrinkles his forehead. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
He picks up his soda and slowly sips it without taking his keen blue eyes off my face. “You’re not planning to propose to Molly, are you?”
“What? No. Not yet.” Why would he even think that? “Do you want me to?”
“Absolutely fucking not. But she’s eighteen now. I can’t stop her.”
I roll that around in my head and set it aside. “We haven’t been together that long. We haven’t even… No. Neither of us are ready to get married.”
He blows out a relieved breath.
“To be honest…” I lean forward and lower my voice even though we’re the only two here. “I’m a little insulted by your obvious relief that I’m not here to ask for your sister’s hand in marriage.”
He snorts with amusement. “I’ll be thrilled to have you as my brother-in-law. When the time is right.”
That doesn’t sound as reassuring as it should. “Molly and I will decide when the time’s right, bro. Not you.”
“Noted.” He lifts his chin. “Go on.”
Here it goes. “I got contacted by a production company to appear on a reality show about amateur cage fighters hoping to go pro.” I force out the words quickly, feeling stupider by the second. Remy doesn’t have any more regard for reality television shows than I do.
“A reality show?” Remy stares at me with his jaw unhinged and a deep frown squeezing his forehead. “Did you learn nothing when we watched Cabin in the Woods?”
“What?” I blink, not making the connection at first. “Fuck, Remy. I’m serious. This is a huge opportunity for me.”
His face slowly shifts into an insufferable smirk. “To get eaten by a family of zombie cannibals?”
I grit my teeth and start counting to ten. One, two, three…
“All right, all right. Settle down. I’m joking.” He groans. “I heard there was a producer scouting local fighters. Knew they were interested in you, but I didn’t think you’d bite.”
“Well, I did. I still have to sit through a psych exam or some shit but I’m ninety-nine percent sure I’m in.”
“Psych exam.” The smile slides off his face and the frown returns. “Griff, you gotta be real careful what you tell those fuckers.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“No,” he insists. “I’m not talking about the shit we do at The Castle, the racing, or the motorcycle club.” He reaches across the table and taps the side of my head. “I’m talking about you. Be careful what information you give them about yourself. They’ll use whatever they can as ammunition against you.”
“Remy, the show’s focus is fighting, not some Bachelor dating bullshit.”
He cocks his head like I’m stupid. “You ever talk to Shelby about what she went through on Redneck Roadhouse? That show was supposedly about singing but they fucked with the contestants personally.”
“No. When and why did you talk to Shelby about it? Rooster doesn’t like you anywhere near his girl.”
He rolls his eyes. “Jigsaw mentioned it when we were down in Virginia helping out the club. He said she went through all sorts of shit that left her kinda messed up.”
“Well, she’s a successful singer touring with Dawson Roads now, so I guess it worked out okay for her,” I argue.
He shrugs. “Okay. If you trust this producer—”
“I don’t even know her. And I don’t trust anyone outside our circle.” I blow out a breath. “But there’s a lot of money at stake.”
“You’ve never wanted to go professional.”
“Maybe I would if I had professional training.”
He stares at me. “I thought you wanted to buy the garage from Jerry one day?”
“Yeah, and how am I gonna do that working hourly? He pays me well, but it’s not enough.”
He holds up his hands in surrender. “I thought you’d work out some sort of arrangement with him when he’s ready to retire.”
I sigh. “Maybe. It’s just every time I get money saved up from the fights, my mother hits me up for a ‘loan’ or to pay her rent or whatever.”
“Jesus, Griff.” Disappointment and defeat grind through his voice. “If it’s that bad, why are you spending all that money on Molly’s car?”
“Because it makes her happy.” Why am I explaining this to him? Shouldn’t he want Molly to be with someone who’ll do anything to make her happy? “What’s the point of doing any of this if I can’t put a smile on my girl’s face and give her something she needs? She supposed to sprout wings and fly to college in the fall?” I hold out my arms and flap them up and down to punctuate how dense he’s being.