Zane answered, “She did, but she didn’t fuckin’catchhim. He did it out in the open, not givin’ a shit who saw it.”
Coop smirked. “For the rest of us, ain’t nothin’ fuckin’ new. Apparently, for her, it was.”
Zeke could feel his brother’s eyes burning a hole in the side of his face. “You tryin’ to get back with her?”
“No.”
“Good, ‘cause if you were, don’t think she’d appreciate Cherry waitin’ upstairs for you. Most likely naked and already on her way to bein’ smashed.”
Fuck.“Good thing Kyra ain’t goin’ upstairs, then.”
“Good thing.” When Zane chuckled, Zeke ground his teeth.
“Want me to send her in here?” Coop asked. “Or you wanna talk to her over in the bar?”
Zeke glanced at his brother. Of course the fucker was grinning ear to ear. “Do me a favor and go up and make sure Cherry ain’t up in my fuckin’ room.”
“Ain’t your little bitch. Accordin’ to you, I’m Bri’s bitch and I got lunch to pick up, remember? Somethin’ I’ll actually benefit from. Not babysittin’ a sweet butt.”
“She can blow you quick,” Zeke suggested.
Zane sucked down the rest of his beer and stood. “Rather have Bangin’ Burgers.” He whacked Zeke on the arm again. “Good fuckin’ luck, brother.”
Zeke could hear his brother chuckling all the way through the common area and out the door to the rear parking lot.
“Prez?”
He swung his attention back to Coop.Fuck.
He glanced around to make sure no one else was lurking. “Send her in here.”
With an answering nod, the door swung shut.
Why the fuck was Kyra here? To give him more shit?
He needed something stronger than a fucking beer. He opened his mouth to order a whiskey and realized he was alone. With a grumble, he got up and went behind the bar, hoping Cherry didn’t take the only fucking bottle of Jack left.
Fuck it. He snagged another brand of whiskey instead, poured himself two fingers-worth, and knocked it back. He then poured another two fingers-worth and waited.
When the door swung open again, his heart seized, then restarted with a bang.
He never missed any other female like he had missed Kyra. He thought he was over her. Her return proved he was fucking wrong.
It still fucked with his head that she looked exactly like the last time he saw her, except for her hips being a bit wider and her tits a bit fuller. Most likely from spitting out that boy of hers.
A boy that might be his.
If he knocked someone up by accident, at least Kyra was a better choice than a fucking sweet butt or one of the strippers from Heaven’s Angels.
“Whatcha doin’ here? Thought you hated me.”
She stopped at the end of the bar with her expression completely blank. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”
He glanced around. “This ain’t good enough?”
“Somewhere more private, like your room?”
Oh fuck!“Room smells like shit. Got a mountain of dirty laundry up there. Safer down here and nobody’s around to hear us.”
