Page 20 of Held-
“Convenient how we suddenly have so much business in San Salona,” he says, leaning closer. “Wouldn't have anything to do with a certain preacher's daughter, would it?”
“Fuck off.”
“That's what I thought.” He chuckles, clapping me on the shoulder hard enough to slosh my drink. “You know the rules, brother. Civilians are fine for fun, but?—”
“I know the goddamn rules.” I cut him off before he can finish the lecture I've heard a thousand times. No relationships that could compromise loyalty. Keep it simple, keep it contained, keep it temporary.
I down my second shot and slam the glass onto the bar, a decision I instantly regret when the bartender shoots me a dirty look. The problem isn't Big's words, it's that they're hitting too close to home.
“I'm not breaking any rules,” I mutter, mostly to convince myself. “Just checking in on the charity situation.”
“Right.” Big's sarcasm could strip paint. “And I'm just drinking water tonight.”
“You're not helping.”
“Not trying to.” He signals Rabbit for another round. “Look, brother, we all got our vices. Just be smart about yours.”
I want to argue, but what's the point? I have been finding excuses to ride through San Salona. Yesterday I spent three hours at that shitty little coffee shop where I first saw her take on the mayor, nursing the worst latte I've ever tasted, pretending I was there for the WIFI while checking the door every time the bell jingled.
Pathetic doesn't begin to cover it.
“It's not like that,” I say, the lie tasting worse than the cheap whiskey. “Just making sure the toy drive goes smoothly. My aunt would have my ass if it fell apart after all that effort.”
Big gives me a look that says he's not buying what I'm selling, but he lets it drop when a blonde in a crop top that saysNAUGHTYin glittery letters slides between us. She presses herself against me, all perfume and bare skin.
“Bray,” she purrs, running a finger down my chest. “I've been looking for you all night.”
I recognize her from last month's party, but her name escapes me. Jessica? Jennifer? Something with a J.
“Been right here,” I say, gently extracting myself from her grip. Her face falls slightly, then brightens when Big wraps an arm around her waist.
“Don't mind him, sugar,” he tells her. “Our VP's got his mind on...business tonight.”
She pouts prettily. “All work and no play make Bray a dull boy.”
“That's me. Dull as dishwater.” I push away from the bar, ignoring Big's knowing smirk. “I'm gonna get some air.”
The December night hits me like a slap when I step outside. Cold enough to make my lungs ache. I welcome it after the stuffy heat of the clubhouse. Leaning against the wall, I fish a cigarette from my pocket, cupping my hand against the wind to light it.
The first drag burns, smoke curling in my lungs before I exhale it into the night. Above me, stars pierce the darkness like tiny holes in black velvet. Nothing like the view from that lake where I took Cece, but still beautiful in its own right. I'm halfway through my smoke when my phone buzzes. For a split second, hope flares in my chest—maybe it's her, maybe she finally decided to text me back. But when I check the screen, it's just Domino asking where I went.
I type back a quick response and shove the phone into my pocket, disappointed in myself for even caring. This is exactly the kind of shit I swore I wouldn't do—getting hung up on some woman who's nothing but complications wrapped in a pretty package.
But fuck if I can get her out of my head.
The way she felt pressed against my back on the bike, her arms wrapped around me like she trusted me completely. The sound of her laugh when I made some smart-ass comment.
I take another drag, letting the nicotine settle my nerves. Three days of radio silence shouldn't mean anything. She's probably busy sorting through all those toys we brought, getting ready for the distribution. Or dealing with the fallout from her very public confrontation with her ex-father-in-law.
Or maybe she's realized that riding off with a biker was a moment of temporary insanity, and now she's back to her senses.
The thought sits wrong in my gut, but it's probably for the best. Cece doesn't belong in my world any more than I belong in hers. She's all Sunday sermons and charity drives, while I am all the reasons people go to church and pray for forgiveness. Holy water and motor oil.
The door bangs open behind me, and I don't need to turn around to know it's Big. His heavy footsteps give him away before he even speaks.
“You're being a real buzzkill tonight, brother.”
“Just needed some air.” I flick ash into the wind, watching it scatter across the parking lot. “Party's not going anywhere.”