Page 47 of Down & Dirty: Rage
“Umm…that’s some…interesting perfume.” That was one way to ask without actually asking. She didn’t want to come off as jealous, even though she was one-hundred-percent jealous.
He frowned. “Coupla girls were beefin’ last night. Topaz launched her bottle of shitty perfume at Velvet like a fuckin’ grenade. Let’s just say she don’t have good aim.”
“Anyone get hurt?”
“Just some feelin’s.”
Like hers did yesterday when… “You disappeared last night.”
He stared at her for a few seconds, then closed the door. “Yeah.”
“Why?” She heard the lock click behind her. If it had been anyone other than Ash or any of her club brothers, she’d be hightailing it out of there, but it was Ash and she trusted him with her life.
“Had shit to do. You forget I manage the club downstairs?”
“Difficult to forget that, Ash.”
“It bother you?”
Did it? “No.”
Unlike Moose, Ash wasn’t doing the strippers. Ash did not shit where he ate. Again, unlike the former manager, who died from a heart attack in the middle of having sex with one. Rumor had it it was mid-pump.
She could imagine that a morbidly obese man collapsing and crushing her with his—literally—dead weight would be traumatic. After that incident, the dancer quit and was never heard from again.
Lyric hoped she had sought therapy.
“What’re doin’ here?” Ash asked once more, drawing a hand down his stubbled cheek and yawning loudly, not bothering to cover his gaping mouth.
Bikers were allergic to manners.
“We need to reschedule your appointment.”
His eyebrows stitched together. “You always show up on your customer’s doorstep for that?”
“No.”
“Then, what’re doin’ here, Lyric?” he asked yet again.
She needed to stop avoiding the subject and get to it. “I think we need to talk about what happened yesterday.” Sheshook her head and clarified, “No, Iknowwe need to talk about yesterday.”
“Need coffee,” he grunted and headed over to the counter in his small kitchenette. He asked over his shoulder, “Your birthday?”
She let her eyes roam over the black and gray club colors inked into his expansive back; a blatant reminder of why they were both the way they were. “Not that.”
After he prepped the coffee maker, he stabbed the power button. “Then what?”
Her eyebrows rose. “You don’t remember?”
He pulled a mug from under a mess on the counter—a counter without even an inch of clear space—and turned to stare at her for a few heartbeats. “Remember. That’s the problem.” He tipped his head toward the gurgling coffee maker. “Want some?”
She shook her head. No way was she drinking anything out of one of his mugs when she couldn’t confirm the last time it had been washed. The sweet butts probably didn’t come over to clean his place very often since it wasn’t convenient. Unless they were already there for another reason.
The little green monster raised its ugly head again and clawed at her insides. “Why is it a problem?”
“‘Cause it ain’t smart.”
“That’s what you said yesterday. Then you disappeared.” She tried to keep the hurt from her tone, but she failed.
