I’ve currently got my own unexpected house guest to deal with. I’m just glad she isn’t a surprise daughter I knew fuck all about.
Yeah, I’m really glad she’s not related to me. The thoughts I’m having about her would be a whole lot of wrong if that was the case.
Chapter Eight
Charley
It’s after eleven when I wake up, which is really late for me. I’m usually at Elegance by now. Rolling over onto my back, I stare up at a ceiling that isn’t covered in mildew and cobwebs, there are no mysterious stains on the walls or curtains that might as well not be there they’re so thin.
The mattress is comfortable and the sheets smell like fresh air, which sounds like the biggest cliché ever but considering I’ve been sleeping on cheap sheets that I was washing and rotating every few days, this is like heaven. Snuggling in under the duvet just a little longer, I close my eyes and wish this wasn’t just one night.
One day. Soon. I’ll get my own place. I haven’t slept so well in ages. It has a lot to do with not falling asleep praying no one gets into my room and robs me, or worse. Waking up feeling so rested and safe is something that hasn’t happened to me for a very long time.
And the reason for that is a six-foot biker whose smile is as dangerous as his reaction to the men trying to hurt me. I couldn’t hear everything he said, but the men knew who he was and they were scared of him.
It should worry me, but just like with Beast, I’m not afraid of him. He’s said some things that bothered me, and there is the whole getting a blowjob in the back room that irked me, which I have no right or reason to be thinking about.
How the hell am I supposed to deal with Nashville? Last night, I was so relieved to hear him outside my room, chasing those men away, I could have kissed him. Which brought all manner of thoughts that rendered me speechless, until he demanded I pack so he could take me away from there.
If I’d had my wits about me, I would have argued more, but at the same time, what he did for me probably saved my life.
Who would have thought he’d whisk me away to this beautiful house? It was not what I was expecting at all.
After a shower, I creep out of the bedroom. I've procrastinated as long as possible, worrying about how I’m going to pay to get my car fixed and where I am going to sleep tonight.
His bedroom door is wide open, and I peer inside, but he’s not there and the bed is made. Short of walking right up to the door, I can’t see much more than the bed. Which means he is up already.
I’m not sure how to face him. I was too stunned to react properly last night. It was only after I had locked the door and was lying in bed that I let my mind think about what could have happened.
That was the first time anyone had tried to get into my room. I’d thought about it happening more than once and I was prepared for it in a way, with two knives hidden under my pillow and in the dresser.
Both of which are still there. They’re easily replaceable, hopefully the next place I go is somewhere I won’t need them.
The house is quiet and for a second, I wonder if Nashville has left already but he is standing in the kitchen with a steaming mug of coffee reading something on a laptop he has set up on the counter.
What the hell do I say? This is the first time I’ve seen him in normal clothes, as in a Black Keys T-shirt and dark sweatpants, without the leather vest. I mean, why would he wear that in his own house? You never see him or any of the other bikers who frequent Elegance without them.
“Morning.”
My eyes jump up to his face instead of ogling his chest. I was admiring the T-shirt, nothing more, I love The Black Keys.
“Sleep well?”
“I did, thank you.”
“Coffee? Fresh pot just brewed.”
“Thanks, I can make it.”
I walk to the coffee pot and grab a mug from a metal stand, keeping my back to him. How do I tell him thank you, but I need to leave and not come back, and let’s not talk about what happened last night ever again? That’s not too much to ask.
The burn of his eyes makes me almost overfill the coffee mug. I take a good gulp before I turn around. He’s watching me intently and isn’t even trying to hide it. Holy shit.
“If you’re hungry, I can throw something together.” He exits out of the window on his laptop and closes the lid. “You okay?”
“I’m… fine,” I rub at my brows then lean back against the counter.
“If this is about you staying here, don’t sweat it.”
