I could ask him why, but I’m not sure I want to know the answer.
It doesn’t necessarily mean anything.I cling to that, even if I don’t fully believe it. “Hawk doesn’t strike me as a tough mofo, by the way. He doesn’t have an evil aura.”
Ty’s eyes narrow as though my answer isn’t what he expected, but relief spills through me when he doesn’t call bullshit. “Why would he have an evil aura?”
“I thought it was a job requirement.” I need to get off the subject of Hawk and his enforcer status, because it’s triggering too many memories. “Anyway, I’ll always remember him as the quiet one in the corner.”
“He’s still the quiet one in the corner.” Ty sounds like he’s trying not to laugh. “Don’t let that fool you.”
No chance of that. I keep my mouth shut, though, because despite all the denials pounding through my head, I know what Ty’s doing tonight. I’m just not sure why. We both know this is going nowhere. Maybe he just wants me to leave town knowing how things could’ve been.
It should make me happy that we’ve both matured enough over the last ten years that we can do this, but somehow…it doesn’t.
Chapter Twelve
Jasmine
We hang out by the bar, three couples having a night out, and it’s both bizarre and heartbreaking. It’s all I wanted once, but it’s too late now.
“So, how’s the shop coming along then, Grace?” Amelia turns to me. “She’s opening a cupcake shop, did you know?Must be Destiny.”
It takes me a second to realize that’s the name of the shop, and not a comment on why Grace is opening one in the first place.
“I’m getting there.” For some reason she blushes, as though she’s embarrassed Amelia brought the subject up in front of me. “Although, I don’t know what I was thinking to start my own businessandplan my wedding for the same year.”
“You’ll be fine.” Amelia smiles at her like they’re good friends, and I take a sip of my soda to drown the small stab of regret that I’m the outsider.I was always the outsider.This isn’t my life anymore. And even if I could stay and start over, I wouldn’t.
Without much encouragement from Amelia, Grace talks about her wedding plans and I steal a sideways glance at Ty. He and the other guys are a little way along the bar, as though they’re deliberately giving us space to get to know each other, and unease slides through me. What does it matter if I get to know them or not?
Overreacting, much?It’s probably a lot more to do with the fact they don’t want to listen to wedding gossip. It’s not like the whole world revolves around me.Get over yourself, honey.
I take another sip of soda to hide my choke of laughter. Just because I’m not staying doesn’t mean I want Grace and Amelia to think I’m weird. Anyway, it’s fun, not least because both girls are nothing like the chicks Zach used to hook up with. Nothing like the old ladies of the Bastards, either, who took their cue from Angie and treated me like something stuck to the bottom of their shoe.
From the corner of my eye, I notice three guys lounging against the bar, and they’re not being subtle in the way they’re ogling Grace and Amelia, who appear oblivious.
Do those guys have a death wish? Can’t they see the bunch of Bastards beside us?
One sidles along the bar and offers me a lecherous grin. Wait.Me? “Hey, sugar. What’re you drinking?”
I give him my best court attorney smile, which reportedly has the power to freeze a perp’s balls at a hundred paces. “I’m not interested. But thanks.”
“It’s just a drink.” He shrugs, clearly thinking I’m playing hard to get.No balls, huh?“No strings.”
His two friends join him, zeroing in on Grace and Amelia, and I smother a sigh as Ty and the others prowl toward us like we’re their property and need protecting from predators.
That’s exactly what they think. I know that. Always have.
Yes, but it’s been a long time, and I no longer need anyone to look out for me. Especially since I know exactly the way the Bastards deal with anyone stupid enough to hit on their women.
Ty slings his arm around my shoulders and I tense, not fooled by his outward calm. It doesn’t matter how casual we are. This week, I’m his. And he’s never shared.
“Take a walk.” His voice is deadly, but the idiots don’t beat a retreat while they still can. Jesus, how drunkarethey? Don’t they have any idea who owns the Hammer?
“Fuck you, asshole.” The one who tried to chat me up curls his lip at Ty, and no Bastard ever takes that kind of attitude without causing bloodshed. My grip tightens on my glass, and nerves spike through my chest.
Is this the way it’ll always be?
…
