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“You’re right, she’s way out of your league,” Nick nodded, chuckling after he dropped the serious facade. It wasn’t a lie, but it also probably wasn’t why Roman felt like the suggestion had been so outlandish. He accepted Roman’s phone to skim the menu, and clicked to start an online order on the website because yeah, this would work. It would win him brownie points too, once Brooklyn assumed Nick had remembered her mentioning it at some point. “Bro, what the fuck is an Andouille Sausage?” Nick asked, completely mispronouncing “Andouille” in the process. “And a catfish? Bro, what...?” It would be harder to rationalize why Nick would have been so perplexed by what a catfish might be, but for whatever reason, his brain had him envisioning a half-cat, half-fish creature.
He was dumb, but beyond that, like Roman, Nick wasn’t huge on seafood. He liked lobster, and he didn’t mind some things, at least once they were fried, but you wouldn’t catch him shoveling mussels down his throat. ‘That shit is gay as hell,’ he remembered having said at a restaurant once, as the guy at a table beside he and Brooklyn shoveled those slimy things down his throat like he did it regularly. He ordered Brooklyn a couple of things, knowing they could share if she didn’t want it, and chicken wings, Hawaiian rolls, fried shrimp, and fries for himself, before handing the phone back to Roman. “I’ll get you when we get back,” he said, deciding that the food better be good as hell for the subtotal to be $90. He handed the phone back to Roman. “Put it in for pickup, we can get it on the way,” he said. They were only ten minutes or so away.
“But that just leaves Cara,” he said, smirking as he jumped back to their earlier conversation. “I’m not gonna say that hooking up with her was worth it,” he said, because it wasn’t. His smirkgrew a tad though, as he added, “But I also wouldn’t blame you for going there, especially since you don’t have a Brooklyn.” By that, he really just meant “a girlfriend”.
He was dumb, but beyond that, like Roman, Nick wasn’t huge on seafood. He liked lobster, and he didn’t mind some things, at least once they were fried, but you wouldn’t catch him shoveling mussels down his throat. ‘That shit is gay as hell,’ he remembered having said at a restaurant once, as the guy at a table beside he and Brooklyn shoveled those slimy things down his throat like he did it regularly. He ordered Brooklyn a couple of things, knowing they could share if she didn’t want it, and chicken wings, Hawaiian rolls, fried shrimp, and fries for himself, before handing the phone back to Roman. “I’ll get you when we get back,” he said, deciding that the food better be good as hell for the subtotal to be $90. He handed the phone back to Roman. “Put it in for pickup, we can get it on the way,” he said. They were only ten minutes or so away.
“But that just leaves Cara,” he said, smirking as he jumped back to their earlier conversation. “I’m not gonna say that hooking up with her was worth it,” he said, because it wasn’t. His smirkgrew a tad though, as he added, “But I also wouldn’t blame you for going there, especially since you don’t have a Brooklyn.” By that, he really just meant “a girlfriend”.