Read Online Street Pharm by Allison van Diepen - Free Book Online

said.
    “This is the most beautiful restaurant I’ve ever seen, Ty!”
    “Trust me, once you taste the food, you’ll know why this restaurant is so famous.”
    “It’s famous? Wait till I tell Maria. She won’t believe it!” Opening the menu, I saw her excitement die. “This is way too much. I can’t let you do this. We can still leave, since we haven’t ordered anything.”
    I took her hand. “I told you before that I work part-time at the gym. I wanna make the most of my money. Don’t you think everybody should live the good life sometimes?”
    “I guess so, if you’re sure. . . . ” She squeezed my hand.
    “What do you say we order some wine?” I put the wine list in front of her. “Your choice, shorty.”
    She leaned forward and whispered, “You think they’ll let us order wine?”
    “Hell, yeah. Places like this don’t ask for I.D., and they don’t give you the check until you ask for it.”
    “Sounds like you have a lot of experience with places like this.”
    “Nah. Now choose us a wine, will ya?”
    She looked down at the wine list. “I don’t know much about wine, but I think I like red best. I had some at my grandparents’ last Christmas, and it was great. It might’ve been . . . merlot?”
    “Merlot, you got it. Which merlot?”
    “Hmmm . . . There are a million here. French, Australian, Californian . . . I want something exotic. How about South African?”
    “I hear that. For Mother Africa.”
    The waiter came, and I ordered the wine. When the waiter said, “Excellent choice,” I winked at Alyse.
    We took our time, studying the menu like we were cramming for an exam.
    “What’s foie gras, Ty?”
    “It’s good stuff. We’ll get some.”
    “But what does it mean?”
    “Duck fat.”
    “You serious?”
    “Don’t I look serious?”
    “I don’t know. You always say, ‘Don’t I look serious?’ But deep down, I think you’re laughing.”
    “You think I’m laughing at you?”
    “No, not at me. At everything. It’s like you know the punch line to a joke and you’re not telling. You’ve got this—this mystery about you.”
    The side of my mouth went up. “I do?”
    “Am I right or am I right?”
    “Are you ever wrong?”
    “That’s you being mysterious again!”
    “You like it when I’m mysterious?”
    “It’s not the mystery I like, it’s you.” She looked away, embarrassed. “What I mean is, you’re a cool guy, you know?”
    “I better be if I’m here with you.”
    We looked at each other. Whoa.
    The waiter came back, pouring each of us a glass of wine. We picked them up for a toast.
    “What should we toast?” she asked.
    “To making more money than we could ever spend.”
    She laughed. “Be serious!”
    I was serious. But, instead, I said, “To a happy life.”
    She clinked my glass. “To a happy life.”
    *  *  *
    The meal was da bomb. I never had so much fun with a girl. Our conversation flowed like the wine we were drinking. And her beauty blew a brother away. Most ghetto girls didn’t have the class for a place like Chez Gigi. But Alyse was Park Avenue all the way.
    Feeling full and a little drunk, we headed back to Brooklyn. Back at her place, we sat on the couch and put on MTV.
    Sliding an arm around her, I leaned back into the couch, smiling to myself. A well-trained athlete knew his game, and when it was time to shoot from the three-point line, a real playa couldn’t miss.
    I tucked a curl behind her ear, stroking two fingers down thecurve of her cheek to her chin. She made a little noise and moved closer to me, laying her head on my chest. I lifted her chin until she was looking in my eyes, and kissed her.
    She stiffened at first, but gradually she relaxed and kissed me back, nice and slow. I deepened the kiss. When our tongues touched, we both moaned.
    She pulled her lips away, and my mouth moved across her face. I whispered in her ear, “You so sexy, boo.”
    “Thanks . . . It’s pretty late.”
    I pulled back