Chapter 3

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Jett's POV


The guys and I decided to have dinner at our friend's restaurant. It's been a while since we've been there, maybe a few months.

As soon as we stepped into the place, we sense a beautiful feeling of bliss in the air. Something I haven't felt in a very, very long time.

While we wait at the table, the feeling gets stronger.

"What the fuck is that feeling?" I ask.

"Look." Wyatt nudges my arm and subtly points to a small blonde woman talking to Doug.

Doug. What a kiss ass.

My skin crawls seeing whoever this woman is with that guy. By the looks of her uniform, she works here. Tammy always serves us though, we we're told that she's the best so our friend has put her with us since day one.

As we all stare at her, her eyes suddenly meet ours and quickly retreats back to the floor.

Do we make you nervous baby?

"Hi, my name is Zoey and I'll be your waitress this evening. May I get you all started on some drinks?" Her voice hits my ears. Such a beautiful voice.

"Where is our usual waitress?" Nik asks, eyeing her speciously.

"Oh she's uh- she's sick, I think. I'm sorry I-I can get someone else if you'd prefer." She adorably stutters while looking at the floor.

"No, we prefer you, Zoey." He says deeply.

Good, you feel the same way I do.

I don't know what it is about this girl but, she's perfect in every way. From her long blonde hair, to her small little feet.

"Is something wrong, doll? Look at us." Wyatt says, not liking the no eye contact. I don't like it either, but I can smell her nervousness.

When her eyes shift up to us, I can't help but want to make those pretty blue eyes water with pleasure.

"That's better." Wyatt subtly praises, causing her to grace us with her plump lips turning into a smile.

After we order our drinks, Nik looks at me knowingly.

I know. Pure perfection.

"Careful. We can't scare her, she's already obviously anxious. Poor doll." Wyatt says.

Nik sighs and readjusts himself in his seat. I haven't seen him this antsy to touch someone since seventy years ago. Even then, she's nothing like Zoey is.

Soft classical music plays as we wait for Zoey to return.

The small woman carrying a black tray almost half her size almost slips on her way here multiple times. I prepare myself to help her when she does inevitability slips but much to my surprise, she never does.

Zoey hands us our drinks, hands slightly shaking.

"Are you guys ready to order?"

"How old are you?" I ask, not being able to help myself.

You better be at least eighteen.

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, "I'm twenty years old, sir."

Sir. Hmm, Nik is more of a sir guy than I am.

I look at Nik and notice his smirk, knowing that I'm copying the same one as well as Wyatt.

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