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The anger that was seeping in waned a little with Jake’s visit, but as I get lost in my head once again, it doesn’t take long for it to return.
Alex hasn’t once given me the benefit of the doubt. I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t now think that every time we’ve gotten caught was a setup of some kind.
Likely story.
His last words are on repeat in my mind as I furiously scrub at a spot on the bar top.
We haven’t even fucked yet. I have no idea why it’s even bothering me so much.
I know what may be fast for him is considerably slow for me. Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever met up with someone more than twice before we got down to the full-fledged nitty-gritty. Yeah there are some encounters that are only hand jobs or oral, but those usually are a one-off anyway. I don’t usually get a blow job on night one with a guy and then meet up with them at a later date.
Alex and I have hooked up in one way or another three times now, not counting the first kiss in the hallway. That’s twice more than I’ve hooked up with the same person in years.
Maybe that’s why I’m all out of sorts. My hand freezes on the bar top at the realization. I’ve had nothing but one-night stands and casual hookups since my ex was arrested years ago.
In an effort to keep from ending up in the same situation, I’ve kept more to myself than anything else. That’s the only difference. If I can somehow maintain distance from Alex, I know I can just move on.
It’s not like I love the guy or anything, right?
Chapter 29
Boomer
I planned to avoid every living person, but the guys were already hard at work when I got back to the clubhouse.
If I took off or hid out in my room, I’d look like a complete jerk. I don’t want anyone to have that opinion of me.
It’s been a week since Ugly caught me at the bar, but he hasn’t said a word. We honestly haven’t been alone since, but I don’t think that’s the only reason he hasn’t mentioned it. The guy could easily tell me he needs to talk to me. I’m honestly surprised he hasn’t cornered me or called me out in front of everyone. I don’t know why he’s been silent.
Come to think of it, no one who has an idea of what I’ve been up to has confronted me about it. I’ve seen Tug nearly every day since Drake and I ran into Max in the bathroom at Hale-ish, yet there have been no questions. They don’t look at me with expectation. It seems nothing has changed, and it’s growing odd, their silence.
I don’t know how to read it. Are they leaving the ball in my court? Do they have an opinion different from the one they share with others? Do they see my sins as greater as I do because of my upbringing?
The late afternoon sun is beating down on me. The tips of my ears feel like they’re on fire, but I haven’t stopped. The longer I stay on the ladder, the more nails I drive, the longer it will be before I have to face anyone.
For some reason, Ugly isn’t around today, and that also keeps me busy.
“Fuck!” I snap, my hammer falling from my hand.
“Holy shit, watch out,” Grinch hisses, my hammer nearly hitting him in the head.
“Did he just cuss?” Rocker asks. “Boomer?”
With deep, steady breaths, I slowly climb off the ladder, a serious feat with only the use of one hand.
“Ouch,” Grinch says, grabbing my hand the second my feet are on solid ground.
“I’ll get the keys,” Rocker says.
“For what?” I mutter.
“Dude, you have a fucking nail through your finger.”
“If OSHA were around, they’d fucking shut us down,” Tug mutters, his head shaking back and forth in disappointment.
“That’s why you should be wearing a hard hat like everyone else,” Scooter says to Grinch. He must’ve witnessed my hammer nearly knocking a hole in his skull.
“Sorry about that,” I mutter before looking at Rocker. “I don’t need an ambulance.”
A wave of hisses and cringes echo around me when I pull the nail out of my index finger. It burns like nothing I’ve felt before, but the pain is tolerable.
“I’ll go get this cleaned up,” I tell them before walking away.
“I’m going home to get my hard hat,” Grinch says.
“There are extras over there,” Scooter snaps. “Quit trying to get out of work.”
Laughter follows me as I walk back through the new opening in the side of the clubhouse, my right hand a temporary tourniquet around my finger to stanch the blood flow.
I head to my room, ignoring the chatter I hear in the kitchen. I don’t want anyone trying to take over my first aid, not that there are many around here who have an issue with blood.
