Page 83
The feel of her behind me on my bike.
Her smile.
The way she trusted me last night.
Her honey-colored eyes.
The way she felt in my arms.
Fucking casual, my ass.
I need to see her.
“Y’all want to go out tonight?” I ask, glancing up at Jumper and Gear and they nod.
“Fuck yeah, I do,” Jumper says, downing his beer and tossing the empty bottle in the trash. “Where are we going?”
“Voodoo?”
He nods. “Abso-fucking-lutely. Let’s go.”
“Sit the fuck down,” I say with a laugh. “ I gotta shower first and shit.”
He rolls his eyes and dramatically plops back down in his seat. “Fine but be quick. I’m bored as hell.”
Shaking my head, I leave the two of them sitting at the bar as I head up to my room and pull my phone out of my pocket. I scroll to Lennon’s name and press the call button.
“Dalton,” she says after the second ring, her voice sending a rush of warmth through me. I step through the door to my room and close it behind me.
“Hey, baby.” I lean back against the closed door. “You free tonight?”
She lets out a laugh. “I could be. Why?”
“Me and a couple of the guys are headed out to Club Voodoo. I want you to come.”
“Well,” she says, a hint of teasing in her voice that makes me fucking crazy. “My friend is in town. Is she invited, too?”
“Hell yeah,” I tell her. I’d say fucking anything to be able to see her tonight but this request isn’t much trouble at all. It’ll keep Jumper and Gear busy and let me focus on Lennon. “We’ll make it a party.”
“Hmmm. That seems like it would work out pretty well.”
I grin. “So, that’s a yes, then?”
“Yes,” she says and my smile widens as I push off the door. “Text me the details and we’ll meet you there.”
“You got it. See you later, gorgeous.”
She hangs up the phone and I quickly text her where to meet us at before heading toward the bathroom, on a mission. Because the faster I can get ready, the faster I can have my girl back in my arms.
Chapter Sixteen
Lennon
“God damn, girl,” Morgan says from her spot on the bed as I examine myself in the full-length mirror in the corner of my bedroom. “You look so fucking hot.”
She’s not wrong.
When we started going through my closet, she pulled out a deep burgundy mini dress that I’d bought months ago and never worn. It ends almost at mid-thigh with little crochet details around the edge and a deep plunging neckline that required boob tape to keep in place.
