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"Kingston, yes. And Nixon. And Atlas. And Rush... Rivers," Lo supplied with a nod. "Who, in case all of you were wondering at all, had been armed robbers before settling down with their new businesses."
Shit.
I could sure pick them.
Of all the girls in town, I went home with one hooked up with enforcers and armed robbers.
Sounded about right.
"It was casual," I said, shrugging, not sure why there was a pit in my stomach about it.
"Yeah. That might be your saving grace," Lo agreed, hopping up. "I know you're new and don't know the Mallicks and Rivers well, but let me tell ya, they are protective of their women. And Peyton is theirs now. They know she's a crazy ass, so they let her have her fun, don't step in much. But if they heard she was getting dragged around by the heart by a Henchmen, you'd be hearing it."
"No worries. She kicked him out of bed," Roderick supplied happily.
To that, Lo didn't even bother trying to hold in her laugh. "Only seen her once or twice, but I have a feeling I'd like her."
"She's a fucking trip," I agreed.
"He couldn't keep his eyes off her at Kennedy's today," Lo's guy from Hailstorm supplied, surprising all of us because they never engaged in our normal conversations.
"Don't need your help," I shot back at him, only making him smile.
"When he wasn't looking at his phone, he was watching her talk to Benny."
"I liked you better silent," I told him, making him chuckle as he moved back outside. "Don't," I told Lo, shaking my head.
"Don't what? Whatever could you mean?" she asked, feigning innocence, a show she didn't put on well.
"It's not what you're thinkin'," I insisted as I reached for another beer. "She was hot. You look at hot chicks. That's it."
"Except then you waited hours for her to come out of the bar," Roderick piped back in. "Been on the town with you countless times, man. You strike out, you move onto the next hot chick. They've always been interchangeable to you."
The thing was, he wasn't wrong.
One hot girl was as good as the next hot girl when it came down to sex. All that mattered was willingness and acceptance of a one-night thing. I had never worked for it. I had never needed to, first of all. But no man could go through life without being turned down a time or two. Even me. And on those rare occasions, I just moved on.
I didn't wait outside like some motherfuckin' lovesick teenager.
So, really, I deserved the ribbing.
I tipped back my beer, shaking my head.
"She asked if going over all the potholes on my bike causes brain damage," I admitted, figuring it was always better to participate in your own ridicule than to sit there and let them know it was getting to you. "Then she told me that she had a woman to see get decapitated, and my breathing on her would ruin it."
"The fuck?" Virgin asked, brows drawing low.
But Lo just laughed. "Reese said Peyton reads really twisted shit. Serial killers. Rape fantasy. Snuff erotica. She sneaks them onto the 'Staff Recommends' section at night, leading all the little old men and ladies to complain the next day. She gets off on that kinda thing."
"What?" I asked when as soon as she finished speaking, her eyes started twinkling.
"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all."
"Why is it I don't fuckin' believe you?" I asked, small-eyeing her.
All I got in response was a sly smile that didn't make sense at the time.
Or the next day.
It was Monday morning when I finally understood the look.
Because one of her guys came up to me in the kitchen, telling me that Lo needed him.
And that I needed to head over to the library to keep an eye on Reese.
Where I was informed I only had to watch her until four when Cy would show up to take her home... because Peyton was coming in for her shift.
Fuckin' Lo.
Wouldn't be happy until she paired everyone up.
But this one time, yeah, she was going to fail.
"What, are you trying to kill me, Ree?" Peyton's voice called a while later as I was sitting just around the bend from the front desk, a stipulation Reese made, not wanting scary outlaw bikers or paramilitary people scaring off the kids and old folks at the reception desk. I had one of Peyton's recommended books in my hands, casually reading it when I could hear Reese talking, so I knew everything was fine.
Lo was right; it was fucked up shit.
I'd been involved with a lot of twisted shit in my life, but even my fuckin' stomach was rolling reading this crap.
"What?" Reese asked, her milk-and-honey voice sounding innocent. But, unlike Lo, it wasn't an act. She just was sweet that way.
"Denver," Peyton said with a sigh, slamming something down on the desk.
