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She laughs. “Tell me about it.”
A throaty engine rumbles out of the garage and rolls to a stop next to us. The driver’s side door of a shiny, black SUV swings open and Rock steps out. He kisses his wife’s forehead, then scoops the baby out of her arms, holding her close.
“Morning, Serena.”
I stand tall and try not to flinch under his intense stare. “Morning.”
Hope tips her head back. “Did you see Grinder leave earlier?”
Rock’s gaze shifts between Hope and me. “Briefly. He was in a hurry.”
In a hurry to get as far away from me as possible? Great.
The disappointment must show on my face. Hope reaches out and touches my arm. A light reassuring touch—nothing more.
The baby fusses and Rock takes her over to the SUV and ducks inside the back seat.
“Well, I should get going.” I gesture toward the driveway again.
“Oh. Yes. I didn’t mean to hold you up.”
“No. No. You didn’t.” God, the last thing I want to do is be rude to the president’s wife. Not that I ever plan to show my face here again.
She gives me a quick hug that almost knocks me off my feet, then jogs over to the truck. Rock grabs her around the waist and carries her to the passenger side. My heart thumps. They’re so affectionate with each other, I have to turn away. I follow the driveway around the side of the clubhouse and find my car where I left it last night.
The awkward feelings follow me all the way into Empire, to my tiny apartment.
I don’t care how much Amanda begs next time. Or if I think I’ve made a “connection” with a patient.
I won’t break another promise to myself.
Chapter Eleven
Grinder
I’m practically throwing myself a pity party as I find my way back to the clubhouse.
Somewhere between Rose’s house and the clubhouse, my self-pity turns into anger.
But also a sense of relief.
Rose and I are done. That chapter of my story is finished. The ending might have been messy and awkward, but at least it’s an end.
Finally, after all these years, I have closure.
I’m free to turn the page and draft a new future for myself without years of guilt weighing me down.
The more miles I put between Rose and me, the more peace settles over my mind. I didn’t ruin her life. She’s fine. Been fine for a long time. Strung me along…
Okay, a few shards of anger remain.
Focus on the road ahead.
I don’t have to bother with the GPS. The few landmarks easily jump out at me as I return to the clubhouse. Eagerness stirs in my stomach. Desire to see Serena as a completely free man. Free in body and heart.
The place isn’t as big of a mess as it was when I left. Brothers wave and greet me as I pass them in the living room. I acknowledge each one with a quick hello and keep moving. It’s noisier upstairs now. People getting up and moving around. Lotta fucking, too, from the sound of things.
I open my door.
The room’s empty.
My shoulders slump.
Damn.
Did I just miss her?
I run my fingers over the sheets where I’d left Serena sleeping. Cold. She’s been gone a while.
I’m sure my note left a lot to be desired. Jotting “Thanks for warming my bed, I’m off to see my ex-wife now” seemed a bit too personal, so I’d kept my words brief and vague. If I’d waited until she woke to explain, there’s a good chance I never would have let her leave the bedroom.
I find the slip of paper wadded up in the trash.
Seems like a sign Serena was hurt or offended. Or maybe straight-up pissed. Wouldn’t blame her.
I rake my hands through my hair and turn in a circle. There’s no way to get in touch with her. I never asked for her number. Can’t even stalk her properly, since I have no idea where she lives.
Lots of people around here seem to know her, though.
No. Like fuck am I asking anyone for her number. I can wait patiently until our next appointment on Tuesday. I’ll smooth things over with her. Explain myself. Well, maybe not the part about visiting Rose.
Fuck waiting patiently. I’ll move my appointment up.
I grab my phone and dial the clinic.
“You have reached Empire Physical Therapy. The office is currently closed…”
Of course they’re closed on the weekends.
Even though it’s considerably nicer, pacing my room reminds me too much of being in a prison cell.
Outside. I’ll think better once I get some fresh air.
As I reach for the doorknob, a heap of navy blue wool hanging on the back of my door stops me cold.
Serena’s coat.
Jesus Christ, it freezing outside. Was she in such a hurry to leave that she forgot it? Or was she planning to return?
Feeling like a pervert, I grab it off the hook. Smells like her. Soft, flowery, and clean.
