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“Does that mean I don’t have to worry about you running off?”
She shrugged. “As long as you don’t give me a reason to want or need to run away, you don’t. At least not right now.”
“Okay.”
“The Black Jacks get their drugs from an American guy, some surfer-looking guy. Not a Mexican national.”
I blinked at the unexpected news. “But they call their shit Mexican Madness.”
“I know, but that’s only because the guy lives in Mexico, well he actually lives on a boat, but he’s not Mexican. I’ve seen him. Up close and ugly if you get my drift.”
Shit. “Yeah, I got it.”
“So? That’s worth cash and a ride, right?”
More than. “I guess. At some point.” I didn’t want to think too hard about why the thought of her leaving made my stomach tie in knots, so I shoved another bite of food in my mouth.
“Excellent. Now tell me more about all the little shits you beat the crap out of in school. Start with a good one.”
“You really want to know?”
“Oh yeah. I loathe bullies. Give me a bloody one.”
I laughed again. “You are not at all what I expected, Savannah Rhymer.”
“Neither are you, Mr. President.”
There was definitely something wrong with me if my dick got hard whenever she called me that.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Savannah
Charlie leaned across the table, and for a minute I thought he was going to kiss me.
“I like hearing you call me Mr. President. Better be careful, Savannah.”
It disappointed me that all I got were words, but I was really starting to like the way Charlie said my name. Savannah. It rolled off his tongue in what was almost a low growl, sending a bolt of electricity through my spine before all that heat and energy settled between my thighs.
It was fucking unsettling. The way his lips curled up into that sexy, lazy grin as he flirted with me. And I had no doubt that Charlie was flirting with me. He had my nipples hard and aching, a fact not helped by the cool breeze that swept through the park.
“Yeah?” I teased. “What’ll happen if I’m not careful?”
“Keep it up and you’ll find out.” Those short words, growled with a dark promise were too much, too soon. I wanted him, that much was obvious, but I couldn’t be sure my reaction was genuine or some Stockholm shit.
He leaned back and popped the last bit of onion ring into his mouth. “Maybe I will. Only time will tell.”
I shrugged and searched my mind for a topic of conversation I could handle until I decided whether to listen to my body, or my mind.
“So,” I said, twirling the straw in my shake. “You gonna tell me about the childhood beatings you doled out, or what?”
Surprise and then easy acceptance flashed in his eyes before Charlie told me about one of his high school nemeses. “Let’s just say that Jake learned his lesson the hard way. And his jaw still clicks when it rains.”
I tossed my head back and laughed, trying to square the hot as hell boy next door charm with the big bad biker President I knew him to be.
“How do you know?”
“Ran into him in Bungalow Thirty, and he told me as much, after a half-assed apology for being such a shithead back then.”
“Did the apology help at all?”
He shrugged again. “I don’t know. I mean, I tried to let that shit go a long time ago, but yeah, I felt lighter, I guess. Less burdened with the past.”
He had a dreamy expression on his face for half a second, enough to make me want to dive into the mystery behind those irresistible eyes.
Instead, I gave him one of my secrets. “ I should have just beat up the bullies. Opportunity missed.”
I’d had more than my fair share of bullies, thanks to Ronan and Brendan, but I was encouraged not to fight back.
“Bummer,” I said knowingly.
His gray eyes flashed in surprise. “You were bullied? I find that hard to believe.”
“Why? Rich girl whose family made their money in dubious ways, which is pretty much a sin in private schools where everyone brags that their daddy made his millions in the stock market, or the casinos, or ad industry. I didn’t brag, and I didn’t lie. Oh, and Ronan and Brendan were terrible to everyone.”
“And you got all the blowback?”
“Every bit of it. I was an easy target because he was an asshole to parents and teachers alike, so no one was rushing to my defense. I graduated a year early just to get away.”
We’d gotten up from our hard wooden seats to look up at the stars again. I leaned back on the table and scanned the sky, the points of light twinkling down at us from every corner of the universe.
I looked over at Charlie. “You know what’s ironic? Running away from my last name. That seems to be the story of my life. Even back then.”
