He nods, eventually I do too. Cassie grabs a robe and stares at us. Handlebar starts to gather his clothes and I pick up my t-shirt. I’ve often walked away straight after sex without a second thought, this is plain fucking weird, watching another man dress too. This is going to play on my mind for a long time.
Now we both have to leave together? I have nothing to say to him and I’m more than happy to leave first.
Cassie speaks before either one of us can get out the door.
“By the way, you’re both talking about the same thing. The Veil Line. King has all three of us looking into it now.”
“What?” Handlebar turns from her to me. “How are you involved?”
“Can we discuss this another time?” Cassie gives a tight smile and walks to the bathroom, closing the door.
I almost laugh at her dropping that shit in our laps and leaving us standing here half naked together. With her no longer in the room this whole messed up situation feels even worse. If he is waiting for an answer, he isn’t getting one. I grab my things and leave her bedroom, tugging everything on as I make for the front door.
“Mace.”
I pause and look back. He’s at least had the decency to cover up his fucking junk with his underwear.
“This is serious.”
“Us fucking Cassie together, or the situation King has managed to throw us into?”
It isn’t easy to forget how Handlebar dealt with Marshall and his sister and how passionate he was about the Veil Line. This has nothing to do with Cassie anymore. He doesn’t want to talk about that. Suits me, I’m still trying to get my head around why she even let that happen in the first place.
“Yeah, I know.” He’s not getting anything more from me.
Instead of waiting for the elevator, I take the stairs and head out into the sunlight. To the left of the door, I spot Handlebar’s bike. How the fuck did we miss that when we got here? Too busy wanting to get into her fucking pants.
As I get on the bike and tear out of the lot, I get angry all over again that I never even got to do that.
Fucking Handlebar.
Chapter Seventeen
Cassie
I backhand my forehead as more sweat runs down, preventing it from going into my eyes. I am so in the zone I don’t notice anyone is there until they step up onto the side of the treadmill and reach for the controls.
Whipping off my headphones, I stare at Waverley. She lowers the settings, so the track slows down, enough that I have to stop running.
“You’ve been going hell for leather on this for nearly twenty minutes now. I’m no personal trainer, or expert but I’m sure you’re going to hurt yourself. Cool down, take a shower then step into my office.”
My heart is pounding dangerously fast, she isn’t wrong. I already feel the burn in my calves and shins, I’m really going to feel this tomorrow. Waverley presses a towel into my hand and then she heads off back to her office.
The gym is quiet, Waverley lets her friends use it out of hours, but I rarely take her up on the offer given it’s far from home.
After the week I’ve had this seemed like the best place to go to work off some steam. Metaphorically running away from my shit. I didn’t get anywhere other than causing myself physical pain, getting soaked insweat which is gross, and I’m still in the same position I was when I started.
The showers here are heavenly, perfect water pressure and I turn the heat up enough that I can just about stand it, then switch the dial to cold to shock the shit out of myself.
Once I’m dried and dressed and my hair reasonably damp enough to get away with, I find my way to her office. The whole gym is swanky and modern with state-of-the-art equipment, but she’s given it a feminine touch in her office to break up some of the harsh lines, glass and industrial feel.
Waverley finishes up what she is doing on the computer while I take a seat and drink the bottle of water she left out for me. Part of me wants to leave, deal with this shit myself but I’ve not managed to do that for the past twenty-four hours. I have got to get this off my chest. Waverley is the only one who will understand.
After she’s finished up, she sits a few places away from me on the couch and puts her feet up on the coffee table, settling in because she knows this is going to be something serious.
“I had sex.”
Her brow lifts but she doesn’t ask who with. It’s written all over her face though. She’s wrong, partly. Wave has wanted me to get with Eli for months. She better buckle up.
