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Jazz flushed before rolling her eyes and turning her back on them Her face remained the cutest damn shade of pink as she checked in on a few other tables

“You gotta knock that shit off,” Gumby said

Screw’s hands went back behind his head as though he was lounging on a poolside chaise instead of waiting for an early lunch in a diner “What shit?”

“You knohat shit The is” Gumby leaned in “Between onna overhear and I don’t want anyone calling Jazz a slut”

Screw let out a loud snort that turned into genuine laughter “What the fuck kinda prude club do you belong to? Pretty sure most of us knohat a slut is Jazz could fuck five of le person I knoould think that of her”

“Doesn’t mean you have to broadcast it where she works”

With a scoff, Screw dropped his hands to the table, leaning in “First of all, I didn’t broadcast shit No one knows a fucking thing beyond this booth I wouldn’t disrespect Jazz that way Or you for fuck’s sake, but I’lad to know you think I’ in his back pocket before tossing soonna need o” Then he turned back to Guht in your head Because there’s only one person here who’s asha on And it ain’t me or Jazz, or anyone in my club”

“Screw—”

He held up a hand “Copper’s gonna be calling you to ask for your help with soonna fill you in, but I’m not in the mood” He covered his hand with his mouth “Ooops, I said ‘in the mood’ Bet everyone in here heard that and now thinks we’re fucking”

With that, he stor up his order When she handed it to hi the thirteen-year-old with pink cheeks and a smile But his walk from the counter to the exit was ry scowl

That did not go well

Gumby’s left hand throbbed, a stark reminder of why he hid

“What was that?” Jazz asked as she appeared with his food After placing the plate in front of him, she took the seat Screw had vacated

“Thanks, hon” He sighed “That washim off”