Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
I'd been cornered by Amy, one of the newer clubwhores who, apparently, just made it into town a few months ago after having been shacked up with some MC down in one of the Carolinas for a few years.
On the one hand, it was nice that she knew how things went. No strings. Just fun.
On the other, the ease of it felt hollow.
Then again, most things did, so I'd taken her to bed a time or two in the past, waking up feeling a little colder than I'd been the night before.
It was my MO, after all.
Colder.
Harder.
Nothing gets in, nothing gets out.
Life was easier that way.
But I don't know what it was. I should have been paying attention to Amy's invitation to take me up to the glass room to suck me off right where anyone could see.
But I felt something—a strange sizzle, something strong enough to make me want to find the source of it.
Then I turned my head.
And there she was.
The woman who was the reason for my highest highs. And my lowest lows.
The woman I'd needed to harden myself for. Harden myself against. Because I knew how easily she could sneak back in if I let my guards down for even a moment.
She looked a lot like I remembered. Her hair was a little longer than I realized since she'd had it up the last few times I caught sight of her. It danced around her upper arms now, golden strands catching the light above her head. I had been fascinated by her hair once upon a time, always having to force myself to resist reaching out, feeling the strands slide between my fingers.
She was still small, slight, her body wrapped in a yellow sundress that showed off her subtle curves in a very understated way.
She had the same sweet, delicate face. The same big, expressive blue eyes.
Except those eyes held a look of shock, then something worse yet.
Fear.
Fear.
When she was looking at me.
I'd told myself after learning she was back in town that I wasn't going to approach her. I wasn't going to seek her out. If she came to me, I'd talk to her. I wasn't a complete dick. But I wasn't going to make plans with her. I wasn't going to let myself go down that road again. The man I was now would tear up the concrete, make a mess of the landscape.
But the fear had me pulling away from Amy as Andi turned on her heel and rushed through the crowd, then disappeared out the back door.
"Niro, nice to see you," Hope said in a fake high-pitched voice as I passed, getting a glare from me that she smirked at before raising her beer to salute me.
Hope had a good way of reading a scene. She should, having two profiler parents who knew far too much about human nature for anyone's good. She was raised on that shit. It used to be annoying as fuck when we were all younger. She'd been the first person to ask me about my feelings for Andi, back when I would never admit it to anyone. But, luckily, these days her job worked as an outlet for all those observation skills now, so she didn't ask as many prying questions as she used to.
I shrugged off the hand of another of the women as I pulled open the back door, feeling a bite in the air that hadn't been there when I'd come into the clubhouse earlier.
I didn't have to look to know where she was headed.
Andi had a strange attachment to that damn weeping willow tree. Always did, even before saving that bird and hurting herself. That was why we'd dragged the picnic table under it. I couldn't count how many afternoons we'd spent there doing our homework. Or, rather, Andi helping me do my homework since she was always a much better student than I was.
It was dark, but I could make out the shape of her back from her spot perched on top of the table, her feet planted on the bench below.
"That was one hell of a greeting," I said, voice a cold sound. It was my normal tone these days. But it wasn't one she was used to. I could feel myself wince even as her body stiffened.
"Niro," she said, a strange hesitance in her tone.
"Been a while. Maybe you forgot what I looked like," I suggested. There was none of the usual teasing lightness I would have once said the words with, making them sound pointed, almost a little cruel.
Cruel.
I was being cruel.
To Andi.
A part of me, the minuscule little bit I'd never been able to completely break down, couldn't quite believe I was capable. But this newer, larger part of me? This raging asshole I'd become? Yeah, he was capable. I was capable.