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“You think I don’t know.”
Lifting her hand, she pointed at her engagement ring. She covered her eyes with both dainty hands.
“I got cold feet.”
“Cold feet,” I shouted. “You ran off. You left Hallow at the altar.”
Eve scrubbed her face and breathed into her hands.
Undoubtedly, the girl was having a meltdown.
“What’s going on? Talk to me.”
Her and I had worked through her stage fright. I’d had her make eye contact with me, someone she’d been clearly terrified of while she practiced singing. And it’d worked.
“Look at me,” I tried.
Eve dropped her hands from her face and took a deep breath. Her chestnut eyes met mine.
“Sometimes, this biker life, I don’t know if it’s for me. And. There’s something I haven’t told Hallow. I’m scared to death to tell him.”
“You cheated on him?” I guessed, doubt heavy in my tone.
“No,” she strained, her eyes narrowing. Her lips pursed and nearly disappeared.
Good, she was angry. I’d get more out of her that way.
“Then what is it?”
“It’s personal,” she huffed out.
Angrier. Good.
“None of my business, even though you can pull me out of my bed on my honeymoon?”
“Honeymoon? You talkin’ about y’all high-jackin’ my wedding.”
“Is that what this is about?”
Miffed, Eve crossed her arms.
“No. But still. Getting married at my wedding. Rude. But this mess isn’t about that.”
“Explain,” I demanded, letting my fist fall hard on the table.
Eve jumped at the pound, losing eye contact with me. She made the most delicious sound, surprise and fear all mingled into one. Suddenly, part of me wanted to strangle her, but not in a bad way. Not for the first time, I imagined myself taking Eve. But it was the first time since I’d met Sky.
Tearing my gaze away from her, I stood up. I planned to leave.
“Wait, Kingpin. I need you. I’ll explain,” Eve whined.
And I wanted to slap her, shut her up and then bury my bone in her, right on the table. Panicking, I pushed the urge away. It was dark, and I’d just been interrupted in my pursuit of an orgasm was all, I told myself.
“You’re the only one who can help me,” she went on, begging.
And my thoughts of how I could help her were so depraved, so dark and delicious. Picturing feeding her kitty, I scolded myself. But I sat across from her again. Turning my phone over in the middle of the table so the flashlight shined bright.
“Go on,” I demanded.
