Up Her (Bang Lords Book 1) by Dani Stowe

Author:Dani Stowe [Stowe, Dani]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-04-04T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Elliot

Damn my nerves. They’re driving me insane!

I look over at Charlotte’s legs—interminably long, extending far beyond the edges of the latte-colored leather bucket seat in my black, stick shift Jag Prestige XE.

I switch gears.

I’m speeding. I make quick turns and pedal my foot down hard as I weave between vehicles. I don’t know why I’m driving so fast. Maybe I want to show off. Maybe I want to get a rise out of her. Maybe I want to be the guy—the fast and handsome alpha-type of guy she liked to date back in high school.

“Mr. Nine,” she mutters, clinging to her door handle and crossing her legs. “Can you slow down?”

Be cool Elliot. You’re not a kid anymore. This isn’t high school. She might accept your proposal. She might not. Either way, you’re a grown man, so get your shit together.

I slow down, but we’ve already arrived at the restaurant and I pull around towards the back where a valet is waiting.

Charlotte peeps her head around. She’s taking note of the alley we’ve pulled into. It’s not exactly charming.

“Where are we?” she asks. “I thought we were going to dinner.”

The valet comes around to open my door. I couldn’t take Charlotte around the front. Everyone knows my name and the last thing I want to do is ruin the proposal.

“We’re in the back. A secret entrance.”

The valet goes around to open Charlotte’s door and she slowly gets out. I don’t know if I’m excited to see her so cautious or if I should feel sorry for her. It reminds me of the time I wanted her to handle the collection of Armadillidiidae I gathered. I believe we were only in kindergarten at the time and I might’ve made the mistake of putting the roly-poly bugs in a non-transparent container. The second she opened the lid, she screamed. I couldn’t understand it. I still don’t. What kid didn’t like roly-poly bugs? Every kid loves roly-poly bugs.

But not Charlotte. Charlotte had to be different. She couldn’t just be a kid or a normal girl. She had to be that girl. The one who was too pretty, too prissy, and, eventually, too popular to have anything to do with the likes of me.

I walk to the back of my Jag, pop open the trunk, and pull out a stuffed black duffel bag. When I slam the trunk hood shut, Charlotte is staring at me. She still has one leg in the car like she doesn’t trust me and doesn’t want to get completely out.

I put my palm out and signal with my fingers, encouraging her to join me. “Come now.”

“What do you have in the bag?” she asks and the valet—a young, blond, skinny guy, probably a college student, appears just as leery as Charlotte.

I can understand why she’s so guarded. Charlotte never liked secrets unless she was the one in control of them, including the gossip, back in high school. To this day, I’m still curious what kind of gossip, if any, she ever spoke about me.

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