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I can't help but feel a little nervous, especially with another woman coming in.
Amara and I are cool, and while I’d say I’m a girl’s girl, I’m not one to trust every bitch I meet.
Still, I have to mentally prepare myself for this.
The clubhouse is going to be bustling with all the prospects transferring in from the other charters.
It's exciting, but at the same time overwhelming.
Dante gets up from the couch and heads for the hallway, turning back to look at us. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m starved.”
Dante proceeds to head toward the kitchen.
Razor looks over at me, “You wanna eat now or later?”
I lick my lips and comment, “It doesn’t matter.”
Razor instantly furrows his brows, “You good? You seem off.”
Nodding, I put his mind at ease. “Yeah, I just . . . I don’t want to make a big deal out of this, okay? But, the way you told me about Lashes . . . it was like something happened between you two.”
Razor bursts into a fit of laughter, shaking his head. “No, I haven’t done anything with that girl. Before you, I always slept with women closer to my age. Young chicks were never my thing.”
I cock my brows, “So, you changed your ways for me?”
He smirks and takes a step toward me, running his fingertips against my bare arm. “Damn straight, and I’d do it again.”
I smile to myself.
Razor takes his hand and lifts my chin up, “No matter who comes here, you and I are solid until you tell me we’re not. I’m not lookin’ for anything else, Cola.”
The nerves swarming around in my belly slow down.
It’s nice to hear him say he’s not looking for anything, yet at the same time I’m not happy he’s saying what we are solely depends on what I want.
I give him a curt nod to appease him, “Yeah, I know. I’m starved, you coming?”
I walk past him and head for the kitchen, not sure how to take the conversation we just had.
In the kitchen, the four of us make idle chit chat, but Razor’s eyes are boring into me.
He knows something is up, and I need a little bit to process it.
The thing is, it shouldn’t just be up to me.
If he’s not happy with whatever the fuck we’re doing, he needs to speak up.
Does he think that I’m going to get sick of him and want something else?
As we all eat, all of these questions run through my mind.
It’s a little disappointing because I thought he felt the way I do about him.
Stopping this has never crossed my mind, and it won’t.
If anything, all I want to do is be with him . . . but I don’t know how to put my feelings out on the table like that.
It’s fucking scary, making yourself so vulnerable for someone.
