When Kylo Johnson - an aspiring dancer and college students finally gets the opportunity of a lifetime to attend his dream school in the bustling city of New York City. After a night of unfortunate events he finds himself in the hands of the city's...
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"YOU'RE SO EXTRA,"
I couldn't fight the scowl that grew on my face as my eyes scanned the place. The dimly lit restaurant exuded an air of opulence, with soft jazz melodies drifting through the ambiance. "I said I was hungry, not that I wanted to break the bank," I muttered, shooting a glare at Stone across the table.
"Relax," he simply said, eyeing me from behind his glass of red wine as his thick brows raised at me questionably before placing the glass back down on the white-clothed table that separates us.
My arms crossed over my chest as my eyes wandered around at the other restaurantgoers around us all dressed in the appropriate attire. "I'm not even dressed properly for a place like this. I'm surprised they let me in looking like this." I gestured down to my muscle t-shirt and sweats, an agitated hand coming up to ruffle through the darkened curls on my head still dampened with a little sweat from rehearsals earlier.
Stone takes another sip of his wine. "Well you are with me so . . ." he tells me bluntly and I couldn't fight the eye roll that came over me at his words. "Is there anything you can't do? I mean this place is... quite fancy and the fact that they let me in looking like this—"
"You look fine," He cuts me off waving a dismissive hand. "It's just a restaurant. And yes, it is fancy, but don't let that intimidate you. Tonight, it's just two gentlemen enjoying a meal together."
I paused in my movements, my brows getting a mind of their own and wiggling together before I let out a soft breathy laugh at the big bad mafia boss in front of me. "Gentlemen?" I repeated the word thinking I had misheard him.
"Are you not a gentleman?" he asked me.
"Oh, I'm very gentle. That shit is embedded in my bones. . . literally," I force up a smile poking a finger into the dimple on my cheek, finger falling into it like freshly made dough. "but there's nothing gentle about you Stone. Your name is quite literally the opposite."
The mafia boss scoffed at me. "I can be gentle," he assured just as the waiter came back to the table with the menus. Our conversation came to a slight pause as the older waiter placed the menus on the table in front of us. I opened it with hesitation as my eyes read over the menu and my breath hitched in my throat, a slight cough erupting through me unprompted.
"Damn, they must had Keith Lee come through this bitch or something?" I mumbled under my breath which caused Stone to look up from his menu. "Is there a problem?"
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, my gaze fixed on the prices listed beside each dish. "It's just... the prices here are a bit . . . woah how much for roasted duck? Damn, these bitches must raise the ducks themselves or something?" Even the prices at the La Crème aren't this grand and it's where all the celebrities go with their sneaky links.
He titled his head a me, a puzzled look coming over his chiseled face. "Why are you worrying about prices?" I look up from the menu in my hands as he continues to speak. "the cost of something is irrelevant to me just get whatever you want."
