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It was exactly what I wanted to hear from him. Except I wanted him to mean it. But I knew he just meant that he missed fucking me, so I turned my back to him, and when he pulled me against his chest, I didn’t fight, I didn’t run away.
I accepted what he could give me because it was all he had to give.
And because it didn’t matter that he didn’t love me in this moment.
I might as well pretend to be happy, for a little while.
Chapter 25
Rocky
I spent all night in Peyton’s bed. God, I fucking loved sleeping with her. And I meant sleeping, not fucking. Although I loved the fucking, too.
I could still feel her clamped around my cock, could still her hear shouting her pleasure with my name falling from her lips. I could still taste her on my tongue. Fuck, I couldn’t stop thinking about her even now, when I once more had to leave her before she woke.
I couldn’t fucking focus on anything, which made me wonder why the fuck I bothered to show up to the clubhouse. Because there’s shit that needs to be handled. Right. There was the asshole threatening Peyton and now there was some unknown assholes who shot up the clubhouse.
“Problem?” Slate looked up from his laptop with an amused grin on his face as if the fucker knew exactly what was on my mind.
“A million and one. You find anything yet?”
One ebony brow arched. “Care to be more specific?”
I glared at him, the glare that made men shake in their boots.
Slate simply smiled even wider. The asshole. “Yeah, I did find something, actually. And I found it in Carter’s blackmail dossier. I’m waiting for Diesel, but I’m happy to go through it twice to put your pretty little mind at ease.”
“Dick,” I growled. “I can wait.”
Ten excruciating minutes later, Diesel showed up with Rebel and Hawk on his heels. “You said you have news?”
Slate nodded and cracked his knuckles, the way he did when found something good and wanted us all to bow down to his hacker skills. “Two items on the agenda today. First, I found a lead that could help with all the trouble Rocky’s girl is in.”
“She’s not my girl,” I grit out.
Slate just rolled his eyes. “The girl Rocky’s clearly fucking who lives in his house again and who he obsesses over every minute of every day.”
I glared at him in pure annoyance, but he completely ignored me and kept talking.
“I might have found a lead on who slit her roomie’s throat. I hacked into the dead girl’s phone and all its messages and calls—looks like she was sleeping with a married man.”
“Who?” Rebel asked.
“Dunno,” Slate replied with a shrug. “He was using a burner. I know from their conversations that he has three kids, and just turned fifty-three. And she’s suggesting hair-growth supplements to him a lot, so I guess he’s losing his hair. I can keep digging in the abundant spare time I have these days, and if I latch onto something, I’ll let you know and pass it on to the cops.”
“Do that,” Diesel said. “What was the second thing?”
“Wait,” I cut in, before we could move on. “How does that make sense with Peyton? She received a threat from the murderer. ‘It was supposed to be you’, remember?”
But Slate only shrugged again. “Maybe she was fucking the old guy, too?”
“Maybe his wife found out about them and went on a rampage?” Rebel adds. “Wanted to kill them both, but Peyton wasn’t home at the time?”
I frowned. “That doesn’t sound right.”
Hawk just snorted. “Ooh, sorry buddy, maybe your girl isn’t quite the angel you hoped for.”
“She’s not—ugh.” I slaked a hand over my face. “Fuck off.”
