Page 37 of Property of Kevlar

Though…

Would one more dalliance hurt? He could be two and done. There were no rules against that.

Kelsey’s apartment door opened, and she disappeared inside. Better that way. He had too much on his plate. There was no time for pussy, casual or otherwise. He had a club to build and a turf war to fight.

Maybe when things calmed down and they had a proper clubhouse, he could invite her over. Yeah. That made sense. Tonight was too soon. There would be more opportunities in the future. Kevlar wasn’t going anywhere. He was home for good.

He nodded to himself unconvincingly.

20

Kelsey

What a long night. Carrie was head over heels for an absolute asshole. Kelsey spent hours listening to Carrie share every detail of the man’s life with her. Clearly, she had projected some sort of fantasy on him because Kelsey had met him. He wasn’t that deep.

From what she’d witnessed, the guy liked three things: his bike, beer, and pussy. Right now, that seemed to be Carrie’s snatch, but who knew about when they weren’t together. Though from what Kelsey had seen, Carrie rarely left him alone.

If she wasn’t working, she was up his ass. At his place or at the bar with him. She never left him alone, unless he told her to fuck off.

Like tonight. Apparently, he had a meeting or some bullshit to attend to. Carrie was bummed about it. Which was why Kelsey suggested they go to the drag bingo event downtown with the theater troupe. Neither of them had won anything. But a few cocktails and a couple of close calls were enough to deem the evening successful.

A motorcycle rumbled outside her window.

Kelsey’s spine went ramrod straight.

Her heart leaped into her throat.

Oh no.

She dashed to her window, pushed the curtain aside, and bent the blinds to scan the parking lot.

Don’t be him. Don’t be him. Please don’t be him.

In the evening’s darkness, a motorcycle pulled out of the space across from hers. Whoever rode it wore all black and blended in with the night. She couldn’t tell if it was Pete or…

No.

Not him. She shouldn’t be thinking about Kev.

Besides, her neighbors could have a Harley or know someone with one. Not that she’d ever seen one before. Being tangled up with Pete had gotten her hypervigilant to that sound. She didn’t want it to be him.

But what about the other option?

Kev had no reason to be there. So, if she heard a bike, only one jackass could be the source.

The idea that Pete would watch her, waiting for her, made her want to vomit. She wanted nothing to do with him. He needed to get that through his thick skull. Besides, why wasn’t he wrapped up in whatever had Mike busy that night?

Oh. Right.

Carrie had gotten a text from Mike during their last game. Apparently, his plans had concluded, and he wanted her at his side. He snapped his fingers, and Carrie went running. That couldn’t be healthy.

Her friend had invited Kelsey back to the guys’ “temporary clubhouse.” Whatever that meant, Kelsey had no desire to be around them. She’d had enough of Pete. No way in hell would she voluntarily put herself in Pete’s orbit if she could prevent it.

Futilely, she had attempted to talk Carrie out of going. Her friend should consider the hour. They had work the next day, but Carrie wasn’t hearing it. Mike had summoned her, and she went.

The woman had it bad.

Hopefully, Pete didn’t have it like that. Kelsey wasn’t interested, and she’d run out of ideas on how to tell him. She was one step away from seeking a restraining order. Did bikers honor those? Probably not. They were just paper. She had to find a better defense against Pete’s advances.