My heart sinks because I desperately want to hear those words from her. I want to say them back. But she’s not quite ready.
“Oh, fuck,” she gasps, “I can’t believe I just said that. I don’t,” she pauses and closes her eyes, “I mean, that did not just happen.” She wiggles her fingers in front of me as if doing some strange magic spell. “You can go right ahead and forget I said anything.”
I toss the rag toward the bathroom and wrap my woman up in my arms. Since I don’t trust my words, I swallow them down and just hold her.
There will be plenty of time for declarations. And you better believe there will be declarations. I just have to make sure that my woman is ready to hear them. Until then, I can be patient.
CHAPTER 21
GRAYCIE
I could have chosen to stay back at the house when Turner needed to head into work. Things are getting a little backed up at Hank’s with Sidewinder trying to work on some project for some rich client. As much as I wanted Turner to stay, he needed to go.
Still, I didn’t want to be alone. Not with my thoughts. Not with the residual fear from this morning.
I did get an update that Bunz Out had been secured with a new back door lock, and Lara has the security company coming in to check everything out. I hope they find something.
Is it wrong of me that I hope the break in has nothing to do with me?
It’s possible. Just not probable.
I’ve spent a good portion of the day doing absolutely nothing. I kind of feel bad about it. Well, I guess reading a book does count as doing something. No, it wasn’t whatever book Opals’ book club is reading either.
While I might read in the shadows whatever their pick is, and never talk about my reading proclivities, I draw the line at vampire romances. It’s just not my thing. Orcs? Now we’re talking my language.
Which is why I chose an orc romance to keep me company today. And I’ll deny what I’m reading to anyone who asks.
It’s been a lot harder to concentrate, though. Normally I can get lost in a book, whether I’m reading a classic, a memoir, thriller, or romance. I’m an equal opportunity reader who is easily transported into the pages of the book.
Not today.
Today all I can picture is the orc looking suspiciously like a certain biker who has crashed into my life and turned it upside down while promising forever.
I’ve found myself daydreaming about Turner a lot. Well, is it a daydream when it’s really you remembering what has already happened?
Like his hands on my skin, the way his callouses catch and tug sometimes. Just thinking about it has me shifting where I’m curled up in the corner of the couch.
Then there are his lips. Fuck, I think I could write an entire graduation thesis on his lips. The opening would just be about the shape of them. Beautiful lips on a man being registered as a national treasure would be the take-away. Maybe a great wonder of the world? If we take this international, things could get messy.
Turner likes to get me messy.
Before I can completely fall down that rabbit hole, the door of the clubhouse swings open and Opal walks in like an avenging Valkyrie. Her eyes scan the space and most of the fight drains out of her when she sees me curled up on the couch.
I perk up as she stomps in my direction. “Hi, Opal.” I can’t help but keep the curiosity out of my voice, “Is everything okay?”
“Is everything okay?” When she repeats my question, her voice is mocking and her face is pinched. “Are you serious right now? You’re really going to sit there all cozy and ask me,” she presses her hand to her chest, “if everything is okay?”
“Well,” I try to reason with her, “you’re the one who came slamming in here on a mission and then stomping over to me. I figured it was only right to ask.”
Opal pinches the bridge of her nose and tips her head back like she’s asking the heavens for a little help down here. I’m not sure it’s going to work for her, but it is kinda cute watching her try. I really have to try not to smile.
“How is it possible that I’m just now hearing about what happened this morning at Bunz Out? And about your fucking ex-douche being in the state, and then I walk in here and you’re just all casual and asking me if everything is okay?” She pauses and her eyes narrow before she clarifies, “And please note that I said I walked in here. I didn’t stomp. I walked. Like a normal person,” she adds the last part on almost like an afterthought.
I press my lips together to stop myself from saying something that’ll have her going off on some other tangent. And she’s not exactly wrong.
“You’re right,” I concede, my shoulders slumping slightly. “I haven’t been a very good best friend. I’ve gotten all wrapped up with Turner and I should have filled you in. I guess, I figured someone would fill you in since it’s become a club thing?” It comes out as a question rather than a statement. “At least, I think it’s become a club thing,” I muse.
She flops down on the couch next to me and rolls her head to the side so we’re looking at each other. “I’m not mad about you getting wrapped up with my brother,” she tells me straight up. “I’m happy for you. Hell,” she snorts, “I’m happy for him too. You two are awesome together. I’ve never seen my brother like he is when he’s around you. It’s really fucking sweet.”
