Page 21 of Held-

“Neither are you, apparently.” He leans against the wall beside me, breath visible in the cold air. “Wanna tell me what's really going on? Because this broody shit isn't like you.”

I take another drag, buying myself time. Big's been my road captain for three years, and he knows me well enough to smell bullshit from a mile away. But admitting what's really eating at me would mean acknowledging something I'm not ready to face.

“Nothing's going on,” I finally say. “Just thinking.”

“About the girl?

It's not a question, and I don't bother denying it. “Maybe.”

“Christ.” He runs a hand over his shaved head. “Of all the women in three counties, you had to fixate on the one who screams complications.”

“I'm not fixated.”

“No? Then why haven't you touched a single woman in here tonight? Jessica was practically crawling into your lap, and you acted like she had the plague.”

Because none of them are her. Because none of them have spring-colored eyes that see right through me, or a laugh that makes me want to listen for more. Because every woman in this clubhouse is just a distraction, and lately, I don't want to be distracted.

“Look,” I say, grinding my cigarette under my boot, “it's nothing. I helped her out, we took a ride, end of story.”

Big's eyebrow shoots up. “A ride?”

“Jesus, not like that.” Though the image flashes through my mind before I can stop it—Cece's legs wrapped around me in a very different way, her hair tumbling down her back as she?—

“You're doing it again,” Big interrupts my thoughts. “That thousand-yard stare like you're seeing something the rest of us can't. Look, brother, if you want to fuck her, do it, but that girl wouldn’t last a second in our world. Get her out of your system, Bray.”

“I'm not trying to bring her into our world.” The words come out sharper than I intended. “And I don't need to get her out of my system. There's nothing to get out.”

Big gives me that look, the one that says he's been around long enough to see this story play out before. “Whatever you say, brother. Just remember, girls like that—they're fantasy material, not reality. She's probably already forgotten all about you. Now, you coming back inside?” Big asks, already moving toward the door.

“In a minute.”

He nods and disappears back into the noise and chaos of the party. I pull out my phone again, thumb hovering over her name in my contacts. No messages, no missed calls.

Fuck it.

I tap out a quick text before I can talk myself out of it.

Still waiting on that list of food items, princess.

Simple. Casual. Nothing that screams “I can't stop thinking about you.” I hit send before I can second-guess myself, then immediately regret it. It's nearly midnight. She's probably asleep like a normal person, not hanging out at some club party surrounded by drunk bikers and women who think Santa lingerie is appropriate Christmas attire.

I'm about to pocket the phone when it buzzes in my hand. My heart does some stupid little skip as I see her name on the screen.

Sorry I've been MIA. Been dealing with the fallout of my coffee shop showdown. You still in town?

I read it twice, trying not to feel like a goddamn teenager getting a text from his crush. It's just a message. Just words on a screen. But they hit different coming from her.

I'm in Carlsbad. Club party.

I send it before adding to it.

Could be in San Salona tomorrow. All you have to do is ask, princess, and I’ll be there.

Three dots appear as she types, then stop, then start again. Like she's considering what to say. My chest tightens, waiting.

I could use the help. And maybe another ride after? If you're not busy with “club business.”

I can practically hear the air quotes around those words, imagine the little quirk of her eyebrow when she says them. Fuck, I'm in trouble.