There was something irresistible about a piece of prawn toast fried in old, dirty oil. The bread soaked up all that flavour and with buckets of fat, it was a delicious, sinful treat.
I wiped my greasy hands on a little napkin and sighed. After eating all the fried snacks, I could feel the effects of the alcohol wearing off. Whether that was a good or bad thing…
I eyed the woman sitting next to me. She had her legs folded under herself and had made herself comfortable while inhaling spring rolls and wontons. Despite her youth, I trusted that she would come through for me.
Yes, being sober was a good thing.
I balled my napkin. “I’m full.”
“Me too,” Quinn replied as she grabbed another crab leg and munched down on it.
“You were hungry,” I observed.
“Starving,” she replied jokingly. “My
