“Nash.” Abi started down the hall toward Nash. “Talk to me. Please.”
Nash turned toward him again. “I’m done listening to you reject me.”
“So then you talk. Tell me what’s going through your mind.”
“You don’t want to hear what I have to say.” Nash sighed and shook his head before turning again. “I need time to process what you’ve said.”
Nash pressed the elevator button.
“You need time to process what exactly?” Abi would really love to know what was going through Nash’s beautiful head.
The elevator dinged, and the doors swished open. “The rejection, Abi. Fucking Christ.”
Nash stepped into the elevator, and the doors slid shut.
“Shit.” Abi went back into their room and dressed as quickly as he could. He put on the first thing he saw: a long black skirt and a white T-shirt. He grabbed his jacket from last night because it had his wallet inside and then left to chase after the mate he’d just said he didn’t want. Or basically. That was what Nash had heard, anyway.
It wasn’t difficult to follow Nash’s scent. The trail of cinnamon was easy. What wasn’t was the attention Abi drew as he walked down the sidewalk?
A deliveryman carrying a fast-food bag followed Abi with his eyes. The lust was clearly there.
Shit. Scent suppressant.
Abi kept walking as he dug around in his coat and came up empty. The can must have fallen out when he threw his coat on the spare bed in their room last night.
Abi’s stomach plummeted. He tried to avoid everyone he passed so they couldn’t catch his scent.
He made his way around the hotel building. The town they were in wasn’t big, but Main Street was booming with several restaurants and bars. Some places were closed because it was Sunday afternoon.
Abi headed to the nearest biker bar more out of instinct than following the cinnamon trail. When he spotted the motorcycles parked on the street, he jogged to them. He sniffed the air, finding Nash.
When Abi entered, pool balls clanked together, and drinking glasses hit the wooden bar top.
Everyone in the building turned to him, including the burly bartender with a vest on that resembled Nash’s but had different patches on it.
Abi sighed. He really should have put on a scent suppressant before leaving the hotel room.
Of all the bars in this town, and they were plentiful along Main Street, even if most of them weren’t open for business, Nash had to find the biker bar with all the scariest people in existence. It was a very good thing Abi knew how to defend against aggressive, handsy men.
One man with a long beard and hair pulled back from his face eyed Abi. His eyes shifted into something cat-like, probably a cougar, since they were the most common in the area. “Mate.”
Abi shook his head and tried to ignore him since he was across the room at the pool table anyway. He searched for Nash and found him drinking something brown from a clear glass at the other end of the bar.
Abi started towards Nash, but the cat shifter ran to get to Abi. He stepped into Abi’s path. Abi rolled his eyes. “I’m not your mate. I’m just weird, okay.”
The guy grinned. “I like weird.”
His mistake was trying to reach for Abi. He found out exactly how much of a mistake it was when Abi grabbed his hand and wrenched it behind his back. Abi kicked the back of the guy’s knee hard enough to keep him down.
The guy shouted, clutching his leg.
Abi bent down to speak to him. He made sure everyone in the room heard him. “I did not consent to you touching me, dickhead.”
Abi straightened and stepped over the guy, heading straight for Nash. Nash had stood when all the commotion happened, but he sat again when he saw that Abi had taken care of it.
Abi sat on the stool beside Nash, who stared at him as if he’d grown a second head. “What the fuck was that?”
Abi got the bartender’s attention. The bartender ignored another guy who wanted a drink to get to Abi. “Hello, gorgeous. What can I get you besides a private room with me?”
