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“Seems like you could talk to him.”
She’s right. I could. And I will. Right now, I don’t want to see him, though. My dad came through for me when I needed him. Maybe he didn’t raise me, maybe he made some big fucking mistakes in his life, but he came through when I needed him. He always has. Always.
“You want me to?” I ask.
Her lips curve up into a grin. “I think since he’s your best friend, you should make sure you’re both good.”
I hum, sucking on the straw, still wishing it were her taste instead of the chocolate on my tongue, but she’s right. “He’s more than my best friend. He’s my brother, and I will talk to him. Just not on the way home from the hospital, yeah?”
She dips her chin in a nod, then clears her throat. She lifts her own straw to her lips and takes a drink of her shake before she speaks.
“I just…” she whispers.
“What?”
Her gaze shifts to mine, and she gives me a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. I can tell she’s worried about something, but she shakes it off and leans forward, touching her lips to the corner of mine.
“Nothing. I’m ready to go back to your room.”
I wrap my fingers in the back of her hair and tighten them, gripping the strands between them as I look into her eyes. She’s hiding something from me, but I’ll let her have her secrets.
Maybe she’s just working through shit. She went through some really bad fucking shit, and I’m sure she’s got some stuff to work through. I’m going to give her time, but I don’t know how much time I can give her because as patient as I want to be with her, I don’t think I could be for long.
“Let’s go home, sweetness,” I murmur, gently tugging her hair before I release her.
A few moments later, my father is here, and then I’m released. I’m loaded into his pickup truck, and he drives us back to the clubhouse. Each mile closer, my mind wanders to Atomic and what the fuck was going through his head during those days when the Nomads had Shawn and he did nothing.
He said his hands were tied. I get it, but at the same time, I don’t think they were as tied as he says they were. It pisses me off. I would never do this shit to Ryan. I would have gone to the ends of hell for her if for no other reason than because she was his.
Fuck.
SHAWN
It’s bothering him that things are the way they are. That I was kept for so many days. That I was taken, and his people didn’t storm into the Nomads’ place and rescue me immediately. But when Atomic tells me that he has a reason, I have to believe him. Even if I don’t understand it.
The clubhouse is still subdued when we walk in with Elvis. He shuffles, unable to take the long strides that are typical of him. I feel every person’s eyes on us, and Elvis stops in the middle of the bar and looks around, his lips curving up into a wicked grin.
“I may not be able to party quite yet, but I ain’t dead. Where’s the fuckin’ music?” he barks.
Someone makes a hooting noise, and then the music is slowly turned up and I feel the bass enter my soul through the speakers. Nash chuckles on Elvis’s other side, and we continue moving until we reach his bedroom.
I’ve cleaned it again. Washed all the bedding and made sure everything was perfect for his arrival. When he stands at the side of the bed, Nash leaves us alone, closing the door behind him, and I strip Elvis out of his clothes and get him in bed.
“Are you hungry?”
He grins, and I know I must look at him with confusion because he lets out a laugh before he speaks. “Yeah, sweetness. But not for food.”
“What?”
He reaches out, his index finger hooking mine before he tugs me closer to the side of the bed. My chin dips, and my eyes connect to his.
“Take off your clothes and climb on my face. I want to eat your pussy. I missed the taste of you.”
“Elvis,” I hiss.
He arches a brow, watching me for a long moment in complete silence. When he releases my hand from his, I decide to do what he wants. I clench my thighs together, my center begging to get exactly what he’s promised.
I need him somewhere, anywhere on my body. I’ve missed him, and it feels like a necessity to know that everything is okay, that we’re okay. I don’t know why sex would make me feel as if it is, but that’s beside the point.
