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I don’t know if it’s the alcohol I can smell on his breath giving him the confidence or what.
His eyes dart to my leg, and I know instantly that he’s at least heard of me before, despite me having no fucking clue who this idiot is.
“She’s not interested in a man like you,” I growl.
“Me? I’m more of a man than you’ll ever be.”
I look back at Slick, wondering if she knows this man, wondering if she said something to him about me.
I’m livid, feeling betrayed, when I turn back to face the guy again, but Ugly rears back and punches him in the jaw before I get the chance to.
The guy grabs his jaw, his eyes filled with hatred, but he backs up the second I feel Harley get closer to the situation.
My hands are twitching, every cell in my body preparing for a battle I’ll never get to participate in.
“You dick,” I hiss at Ugly.
“You’re the dick,” Slick says as she stands up and starts to make her way across the bar.
I nearly fall more than once chasing after her, and it takes the full width of the bar for me to catch her as she enters the hallway near the restrooms.
My mind is racing with what I see, wondering how much shit I’ve missed in the time I was away, because Boomer being pressed against the wall, lip-locked with Drake makes absolutely no fucking sense to me.
“Shit, sorry,” Slick mutters, but when she turns, she slams right into my chest.
I hate the fact that she has the wherewithal to grab my arms to steady me before I fall over.
I blink in Boomer’s direction, but he drops his head, shoving Drake away from him before darting out of the hallway.
“Fucking thanks, man,” Drake mutters as he wipes his kiss-swollen lips with his thumb. “Do you know how long it took me to get that fucking kiss?”
My mouth is hanging open, not because of what I saw but because of how fucking out of touch with everything I am.
“One step forward, fucking twenty steps back with that guy,” Drake mutters as he leaves the hallway.
By the time my brain comes back online, I’m standing in the hallway alone.
By the time I make it to the parking lot, the SUV Boomer drove is gone along with Slick.
Chapter 39
Slick
Unsurprisingly, Boomer didn’t want to talk on the drive back to the clubhouse. I didn’t push him, but the man looked like he was on the verge of tears the entire way.
“It’s not what you think,” he says as he parks the SUV in the parking lot.
“But it could be and that would be okay,” I whisper.
He doesn’t say another word before climbing out and disappearing into the garage.
I should probably go speak with him, or sit in silence beside him if that’s what he decides, but at the same time, I’m still a little lost in my own head with what happened at the bar.
There is no room in my recovering from him, for Aro getting pissed a guy was flirting with me. Him acting out because another man approached me doesn’t fit the narrative I’ve been trying to convince myself is fact.
After entering my bedroom, I lock the door and head straight for the shower, knowing I’ll never go to sleep if I’m feeling dirty. I know showering is an obsession for me, but I also know it’s a healthy response to childhood trauma. It took place of self-harm from my teen years.
I take a deep breath, sputtering under the flow of water when I inhale at the wrong time.
There will have to be a conversation with Aro. I don’t know when the right time will be. The therapist side of me tells me it needs to happen soon, but the woman side of me isn’t exactly prepared for jealous rage that is probably misplaced. I swear if the man tells me he was trying to protect me in some brotherly fashion, from a guy that was clearly a douche the second he walked up, I’ll lose my fucking mind.
I take longer in the shower, wishing the water had the ability to wash away all my problems, and I sort of feel like an asshole about it. Not only am I wasting water, but my problems are minuscule in the grand scheme of things. There are others with huge worries, and I’m getting all woe is me over a damn man that I knew was kind of a whore before we ever kissed.
I shouldn’t be surprised at how things have ended up. As much as I tried not to, I’ve clearly justified his behaviors, thinking that he would change once we spent time together, but I’m no more special than the last woman that crawled out of his bed.
“Fuck all of that!” I snap as I towel off. “I’m not even—”
