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But that was the sensation regardless.
“Oh. Alright,” I said, trying not to let any disappointment show.
“We can’t get Booker out to their place for three more days, at best,” Remy explained. “He’s swamped.”
“And the girls insisted that if we are going to be keeping them prisoner, then we owe them a wardrobe for the next few days,” McCoy said.
“To be fair, only the loud one said that,” Remy clarified. “The other one looked horrified.”
That sounded like her.
“Okay, so what are you guys all here for?” I asked, looking around at them.
“We’re here to talk to you about how you were undercover in the Bratva while spying for the mob,” Huck said, brow raised.
“Oh, that,” I said, exhaling hard, figuring it was always something that we would need to discuss.
“Yeah,” Huck said, nodding. “That.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Maeve
“Stop being so grumpy,” Triss said after wrapping an arm around my waist, hauling me close to her side, so none of the guys would overhear what she was saying.
Triss was… interesting that way. Able to completely embarrass me, indirectly, but also not do so directly whenever she could.
“I’m not grumpy,” I insisted, but, clearly, I was. I hadn’t so much as cracked a smile since she’d all but dragged me out of the room to go on a shopping spree. “You know I don’t really like shopping,” I reminded her, trying to deflect her attention to something frivolous so she didn’t hone in and start making guesses about what I was really in a sucky mood about.
Who I was in a sucky mood about.
“Yeah yeah yeah. Unless it is books or flowers, I know. But we actually need this stuff if we are going to be staying with the guys for another couple of days.”
“Yeah, about that,” I said as we moved a little further from said guys as we approached the women’s clothing section. “Why do we have to stay with them for a few more days?”
“Something about how their private security expert is busy,” she said, sliding plastic hangers across the metal semi-circle display. “Honestly, I wasn’t really paying much attention. I mean, I’m stoked about it. Why aren’t you?” she asked, finally glancing up, and those damn keen eyes of hers felt like they were looking right through me.
“I just… I miss home,” I told her.
There was some truth in that. Staying at someone else’s place never felt anywhere near as comfortable as home. You always felt weird about moving around freely, about eating or drinking things.
Or, at least, I did.
Triss seemed to fit right in with the rest of the crew. Like she’d always been a part of their world.
“Yeah, I mean, okay. I get that. But Maeve, you get the chance to experience all those little fantasies you’ve been hearing about and writing about on the site,” she said. “You know all of those guys who had sort of been characters to you, not real people.”
“I know,” I agreed. “I just… I never expected to be in their world, y’know?” I said, flipping through a rack just to give myself a reason not to have to look up at her. “I don’t fit in.”
“Says who?” she shot back, shaking her head, sending her blonde hair swinging. It looked as perfect as ever. Meanwhile, I’d needed to pull mine into a tighter braid because it was throwing a hissy fit about the slightly harder water at the clubhouse than our place.
“Oh, come on. I don’t fit in with a bunch of outlaw bikers.”
“Maybe because you’ve been spending all your time locked in the room, and not actually interacting with them.”
I mean… that was fair.
But I didn’t want to tell her why.
I don’t know where the urge to keep it all a secret came from. This was Triss. She knew all of my dating highs and lows. I just didn’t want to talk about the thing with Donovan with her.
Especially because I hadn’t really done much working through it yet for myself. I’d just poured it all into writing instead of trying to dissect it for myself.
Of course, the characters weren’t having the exact same situations with each other, but they were going through the whole ‘will this, won’t this’ work thing. Lots of uncertainty and some angst.
By the time I was done writing, I was emotionally drained. I had nothing left to try to work through for my own life.
Healthy?
Probably not.
But I was just going to lean into it.
Especially because Donovan had left me a plate outside the door when I didn’t come down to breakfast or lunch.
Sure, objectively, it could have been anyone. But Triss would have brought it in. And I don’t know, I just felt like the other guys wouldn’t have done it. In fact, it seemed almost like paying me back for getting him a plate.
Or maybe I was just making that all up in my mind.
