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“Saturday at seven.” I looked at him. “Now where the fuck do I take her?”
Arlo chuckled and shook his head. “Your prison colors are showing,” he teased. I rolled my eyes at him. “Take her to dinner. Nothing fancy because you’ll just feel like you’re crawling out of your skin the entire time.” I snorted. Arlo knew me well. “You should be comfortable enough in Applebee’s. Just take her there.”
He turned and headed for the door. “Arlo?” I called. He looked over his shoulder at me, his hand on the door handle.
“Yeah?”
I licked my dry lips. “Uhm, thanks.”
He nodded once. “This is what family is for, brother.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jax
“You cannot go out wearing that,” Ace said as I stepped off the last stair. I tilted my head back, glaring at the ceiling. “Do you not own a pair of jeans without grease stains?” He walked over and plucked at my old t-shirt. “Or a shirt that’s not faded?”
I sighed, staring down at him. “Ace, you’re wearing on my nerves.”
He gripped my shoulders with surprising strength for his small body and pushed me back toward the stairs. “Back to your room. There’s got to besomethingin your wardrobe.”
“I don’t have time for this,” I growled as Ace pushed against my back. I grunted and walked back upstairs so he’d stop shoving against me. Fuck, the kid was persistent.
“You’re going to find time,” Ace retorted as we walked into my room. I sat on the edge of my bed as he walked into my closet, muttering under his breath about my lack of decent clothingchoices. In my defense, I was never out there to impress anyone. If I wasn’t here at the clubhouse, I was either in the garage or my cock was getting warmed in some escort’s body. Why would I need decent clothes for any of that?
“Ah-ha!” Ace cheered. He stepped out of the closet and tossed a pair of brand-new jeans at me. “I remember I got you those for Christmas. Never wore ‘em, huh?”
I picked them up. They were so dark that they were almost black, and the tags were still on them. I vaguely remembered shoving them in the back of the closet the day after Christmas because I didn’t want to ruin something Ace had gotten for me.
“Wear those and…” he popped back into the closet as I stood and toed off my worn boots. I was shucking off my jeans when he tossed a flannel shirt on the bed—the first one I’d gotten when I got out of prison. I hadn’t touched it since. “That.”
I tugged the jeans up my legs. “Really don’t want to wear that fuckin’ shirt,” I told him.
Ace shrugged at me. “Too bad. I don’t give a flippin’ fuck. You’re wearing it. That girl might be an escort, but she still deserves for you to show up looking like you put some effort in.”
I drew in a deep breath to calm my irritation. “Who the hell told you?”
“Arlo,” Ace said with a shrug.
I snatched the flannel shirt off the bed. “You fuckers gossip like old women.”
Ace pretended to mock me. I scowled at him. “You get on my damn nerves.”
He grinned at me, not giving a single shit that I was damn near at my limit with him. “You’ll be thanking me later.” With that, he yanked open my door and strode into the hallway. “Might want to hurry before you’re late,” he called over his shoulder as he began his descent down the stairs.
I wouldn’t be almost late if he hadn’t forced me to change my fucking clothes.
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered as I shoved my feet back into my boots. That damn boy loved to bounce on that last nerve I had.
My bike rumbledto a stop in front of Blakely’s apartment. The complex was shitty and rundown. Paint was peeling off the exterior, and a couple of apartments had boarded-up windows. Trash littered the parking lot, and there was so much furniture piled by the dumpsters that it looked like the city had given up on picking it all up and was just letting it rot there.
I didn’t like Blakely living here. Protectiveness surged in my veins, nearly overwhelming me. I wanted her out of this damn apartment complex and away from this side of town.
I wanted her in the clubhouse. In my bed. Living with me. Working with me. Suddenly, I needed her to always be where I could keep an eye on her. Where I could protect her.
She stepped out of her apartment wearing a pair of skin-tight jeans that molded perfectly to every beautiful curve of her legs and hips. Her top was see-through with rhinestones along the collar and the ends of her sleeves. A black lace bralette covered her perfect tits.
Blakely was…stunning.
