I nod swiping under my eyes again in case my mascara has run. “Now, go sort yourself out and get out there and help Millie.”
The morning goes quickly without incident, but all I can think about is asking Marco for that advance. And given the fact I’m holding onto this job by the skin of my teeth, I’m not holding out much hope.
I’m clearing the tables in front of the floor to ceiling windows looking out onto the street when I hear the roar of motorbikes. It wouldn’t usually catch my attention but after last night it makes me stop in my tracks. There’re about six motorcycles that park out front. One of them removes their helmet and I freeze at the sight of the guy who rescued me last night. He laughs at something one of his mates says as he climbs from his bike. My stomach twists with knots of embarrassment as the events from last night come rushing back to me. I can’t let him see me, so I make a beeline for the back, not daring to look back as the bell jingles and his throaty laugh fills the space.
Once I reach the safety of the staff room, I sigh with relief. But then Marco shouts me from his place behind the counter.Shit. I stand frozen, my mind racing as I try to weigh up my options. I could pretend I didn’t hear him, but I’m already walking a thin line with him. My only other option is to suck it up and face the fucking music.
It seems I’m taking too long contemplating what seems like a huge life decision, because Marco bursts through the doors.
“Come on, we need you,” he shouts.
I take a deep breath, straighten out my apron and head out front.
Here goes nothing.
Clay
The smell of coffee fills my nostrils. It’s just what I need right now, because spending hours outside Belle’s place was not my brightest move. I didn’t stroll back into the clubhouse ‘til five in the morning, after I was sure she wouldn’t run out and go back right to where we started.
Coffee would be my oxygen today, especially as Pres has had us running errands since this morning.
“Good night?” Rock asks, wiggling his brows suggestively. “I saw you sneaking in at early doors. She must have been an animal, keeping you occupied ‘til that time.”
I shake my head, rolling my eyes. The fellas know I’m nothing like them. I never opt for the club girls.Shit, I didn’t want some pussy my brothers had been balls deep in.
I laugh. “You spying on me, Rock? Shouldn’t you have been tending to your ol’ lady?”
“Fuck, I wish. Meli’s regressed or some shit. I spend hours walking around the club trying to settle her. There’s only so many areas you can walk a kid around safely at that time without being exposed to some crazy shit.”
“Who’d have thought,theRock would be cockblocked by a little one.” I put my arm around his shoulder. “Seriously, though, it suits you. It’s nice to see you settling down.”
“What can I get you?” That voice I remember as plain as day, it’s haunted me for the last twelve hours.
I smile at Belle and can tell by the way she’s fiddling with her hair that she feels uncomfortable. But what a difference a few hours make. I take my time assessing her. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun with a few strands framing her face, showing how naturally beautiful she is. There’s no sign of the dishevelled woman I pulled off the bridge last night.
“I’ll get a flat white, please. Rock?”
She bites the inside of her cheek, clearly anxious.
“Same,” he replies, before making his way over to the other brothers, who have now found a booth in the corner.
“Belle?” I ask, and she looks up from the tablet where she’s entering our order. “I thought it was you.”
She swallows nervously. “Let me get your order.”
She exhales loudly as she turns around and starts scooping coffee into the machine. I feel like a dick for making her feel more uncomfortable, pointing out the obvious.
I rake my eyes over her petite frame, mentally scolding myself as I take in each perfectly sculpted curve which her all black uniform clings to.
“I didn’t realise you worked here,” I say, trying to make small talk. I crave to know that she’s okay. She nods, adding milk to the cups whilst the machine makes a loud hissing noise. “It’s good to see you again,” I add.
She places the cups on the counter, ringing up the cash register. “That’ll be seven pounds, please.”
I tap my card to the machine.
“Belle?” She raises her chin slightly until our eyes lock. She’s silently pleading with me to drop it. I debate asking if she’s okay but also know it’s a stupid question right now, so I change my tact. “Maybe we could grab a coffee sometime?”
She looks shocked. “Erm . . . you don’t want to waste your time with me.” She stutters. “I break everything I touch.” She wipes at an imaginary spill on the counter.
