She’s behind me on the bike but sitting stiff, not leaning in, like she’s making a point. She didn’t even hold on to me this time. Seems she’s worked out what the sissy bar is for.
When I pull up outside Roxy’s place, it’s pitch black.
“No lights,” I say.
“She’s probably still working.” Remi shrugs, sliding off the bike. “It’s fine. You can go.”
I don’t move. “You got a key?”
“Nope.”
“Then it’s not fine.”
“I’ll wait. Roxy won’t be long.”
“She’s a dancer at the club. She could be hours.”
She crosses her arms. “Shadow, I’m not your problem.”
I swing a leg off the bike and step closer. “Maybe not, but I’m not leaving you out here in the dark so you can get chatted up by the next guy who walks past.”
Her eyes narrow. “Oh, so now I’m not allowed to talk to anyone?”
“You can talk to whoever the hell you want. But don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing with Ragnor.”
“What I’m doing? I was making conversation. I’m abarmaid. That’s literally my job.”
I huff out a laugh that’s got no humour in it. “Your job isn’t to get yourself wrapped around a club president’s handlebars.”
“Maybe Iwantto.”
The heat spikes in my chest. “Then you’re dumber than I thought.”
Her jaw clenches. “You know what? Forget it.” She turns on her heel, heading down the street.
“Remi,” I call, already following. She ignores me, so I lengthen my stride. “Where the hell are you going?”
“Somewhere that’s not here.”
“Yeah, no. You’re coming back to the clubhouse.”
“I told you, I’ll wait––”
“You want me to make you? Cos I will.” My voice is sharper now, enough to make her falter. “You’re coming back with me.”
She glares, but when I nod towards the bike, she lets out a huff and stomps back with all the grace of a toddler having a tantrum.
When we roll into the clubhouse, it’s quieter. Ragnor watches us with interest, but before she can say a word, I drag her past and upstairs. We get to my landing, and she glances around.
“Which room’s mine?”
“There’s none spare,” I lie without blinking.
Her brow furrows. “Seriously? There’s like twenty doors.”
“Full. You can have my bed.”
“I’m not––”
