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“Thanks,” I whisper. “You don’t have to. I’m serious.”
“Shawn,” he says, his voice an exasperated exhale. “It’s not a problem. We’re neighbors. It’s what we do here.”
The blow to my ego is a hard one. It’s not that I expected him to be pining over me or anything, but we’re neighbors? Like we weren’t more than that. Like we didn’t fumble around and lose our virginity to one another in the bed of the truck he’ll probably pick me up in. I let it go, though, mainly because I desperately need the ride.
“Thank you, Austin,” I whisper.
“I’ll see you in the morning. And Shawn?”
“Yeah?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything else.
“Thank you for calling me when you needed someone.”
He ends the call, and I pull my phone away from my ear, wondering what’s just happened. I don’t love him anymore, but I can’t deny that it’s nice to hear his voice and to hear that he appreciates my call.
But then, as if being called back to reality, my mind wanders to Elvis. I really hate that I still want him. Badly. And I hate that I feel like he is nothing but a no-good liar because even though I’m feeling that way right now, if he walked into this bakery, I would probably fall to my knees in an instant for him.
KING
“Are you shitting me?” I ask.
Poison shrugs her shoulder, her lips curving up into a smile. Fucking bitch. I arch a brow, watching her and wondering what the fuck I’m going to do with her aside from slitting her fucking throat right where she stands.
I won’t do that, though. I typically try not to kill a bitch, but I’m about to bend my own rules when it comes to her. I’ve been working tirelessly on this fucking trucking company bullshit. I haven’t even had a chance to see my own woman.
By the time I finish working every night, it’s too late to go to her. I sleep, and it starts all over again. Now I’ve got this bitch standing in front of me, telling me shit. I don’t even know what the fuck she’s saying.
“I am serious, King.”
“Repeat it,” I murmur, leaning back in the office chair.
I’ve taken over Atomic’s office since I’ve been working on all this shit. He doesn’t mind because he’s been MIA anyway.
“I saw your old lady,” she says as if the word itself disgusts her. I know it doesn’t because the bitch would crawl on her knees over shards of glass to get that title herself. “With a man.”
“When?” I ask.
I don’t believe her. Not in the fucking slightest.
“This morning. I wanted some coffee that wasn’t made by Firecracker. She’s fucking horrible at making coffee. I went downtown and saw a young cowboy, looking fine as hell, loading up her fucking cupcakes into his ranch truck.”
“If you’re lying, I’ll beat the fucking shit out of you,” I grind out.
She purrs before she moves around the desk toward me. Against my better judgment, I turn the chair to face her, and she does exactly what I thought she might. She climbs onto my lap, straddling my hips.
I feel her palms against my chest and tip my head back to look into her eyes as she gazes down at me. I watch as her tongue slips out and slides across her bottom lip in an attempt to appear sexy. She is sexy in her own way. She knows how to fuck, too.
But she’s just not for me.
Not in any capacity.
“I wouldn’t lie to you, King,” she says breathlessly.
I know it’s bullshit. She’s just trying to piss me off so that I’ll fuck her. Normally, it would work. Hell, she wouldn’t normally have to piss me off to get me to fuck her. I would just fuck her if she winked at me.
But I can’t stop thinking about Shawn. I’m fucking falling for her, and this would hurt her. Even though she knows that it could happen. Even though she knows the score about clubwhores and all that shit, I know it would hurt her.
And I don’t want to hurt her. Ever.
