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t w e n t y - f i v e : i'm turning into my dad
Drake’s POV
We’re coasting down 9th avenue in pursuit of a seat at one of my favorite restaurants in the city.
“Where are we headed?” she asks, tapping the black leather arm rest. She pushes some fly-away curls from her face, staring out the passenger side window.
“Just a place.”
“As long as I don’t end up getting kidnapped, I’m fine with anything,” she mumbles.
“Steak?”
“Sure.”
I pull the Audi up to the restaurant’s valet with ease
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