Nodding, I offer a small smile. “I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.”
“I recommend it.” Doc’s gaze darkens, and I swear it’s on the tip of his tongue to offer to take me for a ride. The double entendre of it swims in the tension between us. “Reminds me of my old life.”
My smile blooms a little bigger. I’m finding that I like this game. The flirting.
Taking another few steps forward has his focus dropping to my thighs again, lingering there. Doc’s hands twist in the towel he’s holding, jaw clenching.
“What life was that?”
A heavy beat hangs between us. So close but still so far from each other.
“You first.”
The attention makes me bold. I shake my hair out, exposing a solid slice of my body. The cold air braces my skin in a heady chill. It’s brief, but empowering.
Doc’s gaze snaps up to mine and doesn’t waver. Attraction is obvious, but he’s breathing like he’s mad. It stalls my next step. We’re so close already. A foot apart. I can practically feel his hands on me, but the heat has turned.
“What are you doing, Wren?” His voice is low and dangerous. It should scare me but doesn’t.
I want to lean in even closer.
He looks to the side, that towel tearing in his hand before he sets it down. “You are Saint’s. And I cannot do that to my brother.”
I deflate a little at those words.
“We’ve all been reminded to behave ourselves.”
That makes me frown. Why? When? My husband doesn’t seem to have any interest in me whatsoever, so why make that kind of sweeping proclamation? It certainly isn’t just because of my safety.
Doc wouldn’t hurt me. Would he?
Another scrap of space disappears between us as his voice lowers. “You’re in his jacket.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“It means you’re basically queen around here. You need to start acting the part.”
Frustration boils over, making me feel foolish. I should know better than to think I could tempt him. A prize I might be, but not one anyone actually wants. I’ve been put on a shelf and left to rot.
I spin on my heel and storm away.
I felt the tension there. The desire.
It’s not like Saint wants me.
Inside, the weight of his vest doubles. It’s too much. I can’t take it anymore.
Shrugging it off, I settle it on the stool beside the bar.
Pixie’s eyes go wide. “Sweetheart. You can’t do that.”
“Looks like I just did.”
“No. It’s what’s keeping you safe.” Her usual jest is absent from her voice.
“It’s heavy. I just can’t right now.” Without it, the air hits my skin differently. I’m more exposed, but I can’t care about that. I need the freedom to breathe. To be myself for a moment. It’s not something I’ve ever been granted.
It’s only two minutes before Sin is in my space, hovering over me. Shoulders broad and tense with menace as he looks down at me. “Put that back on.”
