But instead, I’m being possessed by my own burning arousal, driven to take another ride.
10
CARTER
Me runninginto Carmen at the grocery store was coincidental.
Skipper can talk about his “soul contract” bullshit until the cows come home. Coincidences happen. That’s just how life works sometimes.
Of course, when I arrive back at the MC clubhouse, there are questions.
Skipper is the first to perk up in his seat and yell out his favorite two words. But at least I have Carmen here siding with me.
“Vegas is a small place.” She takes a seat at the bar and starts swinging her legs, taking in the clubhouse in a different light. The last time she was here, the room was dark and crawling with drunk bikers who had no filter.
It’s much quieter during the day.
“What are you doing back here, sweetheart?” Skipper asks.
“Your friend invited me back.”
Skipper looks glad, but Vex gives me quite the scolding look. “What the fuck are you playing at? Is this a game to you?”
I wish I could answer that question. The truth is—I don’t know what she’s doing back here. My brain has been out of sorts since Carmen reentered my life last night.
I made matters worse by sleeping with her.
But what was I supposed to do? Sit back and watch as my two friends have their cake and eat it?
I don’t crumble when people beg me to spare their lives, or when I’m being shot in the leg…
But I crumble for a woman?
The blame is on me for outbidding Conrad O’Neill. I don’t regret what I did, though.
There’s something about Carmen that I can’t quite put my finger on. Most women tell you who they are. Carmen keeps her cards close.
Not like I’m one to judge. I think we both play the same when it comes to the game of life. Maybe that’s half the reason I’m so intrigued.
The other reason speaks loud and clear for itself.
It looks like she’s been putting my money to use, treating herself to a makeover. The jacket is the same vintage brown as her boots. She also smells different, more classy. Unfortunately, it conceals her natural, honey-cinnamon scent that I remember smelling the first time we went to bed.
Money only goes so far. I hope she’s smart enough to know that.
I prop myself up against the bar. “I just thought we should clear the air. I know things between us have been rocky. I wanted to apologize for what happened three years ago. I shouldn’t have walked out on you without saying goodbye.”
Carmen frowns, pulling her brown leather jacket closer. “You think I care about what happened three years ago?”
My heart changes rhythm.
Maybe she doesn’t.
Maybe I’m the one who cares.
The day after I rudely walked away was the day my mother mysteriously lost her life. That made our time together significant.
For me.
