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“It’s complicated.”
“No,” I say and cup her jaw to force her gaze to remain on mine. “You can’t talk around shit anymore. I looked like an idiot by having Hobo know more about you than I did. I spent weeks, worrying you were dead. I can’t play the secrets bullshit anymore.”
“Why would I be dead?”
“I don’t know. You work for a sick fuck. His sons are psychos. Hobo said Jimbo has a crush on you. Well, you saw how Marky’s crush on Yazmin worked out. I didn’t know why you hadn’t contacted me.”
“I didn’t know how.”
“You could have called here and asked for me.”
“Is there a house phone?”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Because you never asked.”
Irina frowns at my snarly tone. “Who is Hobo? Is that a person?”
“He’s one of my club brothers.”
“How did he know that stuff?”
I don’t answer immediately, worrying she’ll snitch on Hobo and get my friend killed. Finally, I mumble, “He’s got good sources.”
Nodding, Irina glances around my room. The Pigsty used to be a lodge. Each of the bedrooms is a suite. Some are bigger than others. The founding members wrestled to see who got the biggest ones. I defeated Tomcat and Walla Walla to claim Ruin’s old suite when he moved out to play family man.
“I didn’t want this room because it was big,” I tell Irina. “I grew up down in the family’s finished basement. I always had space. But I was down in the dark. This room gets the best light. That’s why my club president claimed it. He gets the best of everything because he kicks everyone’s ass.”
“Do you like him?”
“Of course.”
“But he kicks your ass.”
Grinning, I like how she wears a protective glare at the idea of me being bullied.
“Just to be the leader. It’s not like he comes around and hits me now.”
“I can’t imagine anyone defeating you,” Irina murmurs, and I hear longing in her voice.
My dick hardens immediately. I’ve missed the way our bodies move together. No woman’s gotten me as hard as Irina can with just a naughty grin.
Except fucking won’t fix the heaviness in my chest. I need to know who she is and if she’s really mine.
“I want you to quit your job,” I tell Irina. “I’ll find you a better one. Get you a place to live. Shit, you can move in here. There are empty rooms. I’ll figure things out.”
I keep talking, even after her face turns tight as if she’s under threat.
“What?” I ask when Irina seems farther away now. “No secrets, or I’ll make you leave.”
Irina glances at the door, killing my resolve. I walk over and block her exit.
“What?” I ask again.
“You saw Fiona at the funeral. How can you think I’d walk away from her?”
