Page 32 of Cinder (MC Fables #2)

E lla

He’s going to think I’m a weirdo.

As I brush my teeth and stare at my reflection in the tarnished mirror above the porcelain basin, I can’t help but think back to last night in the clubhouse foyer with Lars. How weird I got about him driving me home and the awkwardness that followed.

I’m really gonna have to get better at this. I can’t afford to let him figure out that I’m not who I say I am. And I have a feeling Lars is the kind of guy who won’t let things go once he has his suspicions.

I have to fix this somehow.

Show him that I’ve got nothing to hide .

And hope to God he doesn’t see through it.

Riding the bus to the clubhouse, I decide I need to talk to him before he has a chance to overthink it.

So when I arrive to work, I make him a coffee and take it to his room as an apology for my abrupt departure last night.

But just as I’m walking along the hallway toward his room, the door opens and Bambi steps into the hallway.

Dressed in nothing but a baby tee with Kiss Me, Cowboy splashed across her ample chest, and a tiny pair of lace panties, she looks sleepy and crumpled like she just woke up.

A sick feeling sweeps through me.

“Oh hey, Ella,” she says when she sees me, stretching her arms above her head and yawning.

Feeling stupid and disappointed, I force a smile. “Hey, Bambi.”

“Is that for Lars?” she asks, eyeing the coffee cup in my hand. “I think he’s going to need it. Neither of us got much sleep last night.”

Bambi seems sweet, and I can tell she isn’t saying any of this to hurt me. She just doesn’t know that seeing her leave his room and hearing that they didn’t get much sleep feels like a giant kick in my stomach.

Even though it shouldn’t.

I look at the coffee cup in my hand.

What the hell am I doing?

“You know what? Here, it’s yours if you want it,” I say .

Her eyes light up as she takes it from me. “You are the best. Thank you.”

She takes a sip and moans, and it’s too easy in that moment to think about what Lars did to make her moan last night.

“I thank the heavens that you work here now. No one makes the coffee as good as you.” She takes a sip and moans again. “Please don’t let Mrs. V. scare you off.”

I can’t help but smile. Bambi is cute and bubbly, and I don’t think she has a mean bone in her body.

“I won’t,” I say.

She holds up her pinky finger. “Pinky swear?”

Again, I smile as I curl my pinky around hers. “I swear.”

Then surprising the hell out of me, she kisses me on the cheek before bouncing down the hallway and out of view.

Not wanting to run into Lars, I escape to the kitchen and try to force the idea of him and Bambi spending the night together out of my head as I’m working.

But it’s more difficult than it should be.

Because I was looking forward to his return and felt the zip of excitement when he arrived.

Felt the insane desire as he kissed me like he couldn’t get enough of me. It really felt like—what?

Like something was happening between us?

Like he wanted more than friendship?

Yes, that’s exactly how it felt.

But it was obviously all in my head, and I’m an idiot for even thinking it .

So when Lars comes in for his morning coffee, I actively avoid him, choosing to mop the floors instead of talking to him, to hide the lingering disappointment in my chest.

But Lars being Lars picks up on it straight away.

“Everything okay, Firecracker?” he asks, pouring himself a coffee as I mop the floors across the room.

“Just busy,” I say, refusing to look at him because I feel so damn stupid for letting this get to me so much.

And he’d see it in my eyes. The disappointment.

The hurt. The embarrassment. Then he’d wonder why someone he doesn’t even know or have any loyalty to is upset because he spent the night with a gorgeous blonde with gorgeous hair, a gorgeous face, and a gorgeous body.

When his back is turned, I sneak out the side door to empty the mop bucket into the courtyard drain, hoping he’ll be gone by the time I step back inside.

But when I walk into the kitchen again, Lars is leaning against the counter drinking his coffee. Watching me.

“Something you want to get off your chest?” he asks as I walk by him to put the mop and bucket away.

“I’m busy is all. Mrs. V. will kill me if I don’t have these floors done before she gets back.” I force myself to give him a smile, because he hasn’t done anything wrong. He could have a hundred Bambis in his room and it shouldn’t matter to me.

“They look pretty good to me. Have a coffee with me. I want to talk to you about something. ”

I didn’t notice it before, but there is a freshly poured cup sitting on the counter next to him. He picks it up and hands it to me.

“You sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?” he asks, watching me take a sip.

I feel foolish for being so hurt about him spending the night with Bambi. I have no claim to him. Even if things had gotten interesting between us only a few hours beforehand.

When you fled like a weirdo.

“I followed you home last night,” he says.

That catches me off guard.

“You stalking me now?” I say, a little too defensively, as I put my cup down on the counter.

“It’s my job,” he says seriously. “You were so adamant you didn’t want a ride home, it got me curious.”

“Forgive me for not wanting to climb on the back of your bike. I’m sure there’s a long list of girls who would like to.”

Okay, what the fuck was that?

Lars ignores it. “A girl like you doesn’t live in a dive like that.”

“You don’t know what kind of girl I am.”

“You’re right, I don’t know anything about you. But I do know that you don’t belong at the Blue Lagoon.”

“And where do I belong, in your bedroom like Bambi? She looked pretty happy when I saw her coming out of there this morning. Or was that just for last night and there’ll be someone else warming your bed tonight?”

Fuck, what the hell was that? It’s like I opened my mouth and vomited my mood all over the floor.

But Lars looks unfazed.

In fact, he completely ignores my outburst. “Why are you living in a motel?”

“Because I’m in between homes.”

“I thought you were living with a friend. The one who picked you up the other night.”

I’ve got a friend waiting for me.

“I never said I was living with them,” I say.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t have to tell you shit.”

I try to walk past him, but he stops me. “The Blue Lagoon is the bottom of the barrel.”

“Well I can’t afford anywhere other than the bottom of the barrel.”

He pulls out a wad of cash from his jeans. One of those wads of cash you see in the movies.

“You can now.”

I push his hand away. “Keep your money. I don’t want any more of your help. You’ve done enough. I’m not your responsibility. ”

“You think I can sleep easy knowing you live in that shithole?”

“Why does it bother you so much?”

“Because I have a fucking conscience. There are three kinds of people who visit the Blue Lagoon. The desperate. The cops. Or the fucking medical examiner when they’re picking up another body. It’s no place for a young woman on her own.”

“I’ve put up with worse.”

So much worse.

Ironically, I feel safer at the seedy motel than I have in the last three months in the Moretti mansion.

But Lars steps closer and reaches around me, engulfing me in his scent—something earthy and warm and so fucking sexy I can almost taste it on my tongue.

He pushes the wad of cash into the back pocket of my shorts, then brushes his lips to my ear.

“And don’t believe everything you see, Little Cinder.

If anyone is going to warm my bed beside me, it will be you. ”

And with that, he walks out of the room, leaving my lips parted and my skin pebbled with goosebumps in his wake.