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I don’t think I sucked in a proper breath until I had the engine on, and was peeling out of the driveway and onto the street.
I didn’t look back.
I couldn’t.
Because some part of me knew that if I did, if I saw him there, that I was going to throw all my rules out of the window.
As ridiculous as that was.
CHAPTER NINE
Cato
She fucking… ran out when I was in the bathroom.
And she would have had to run, too. I was too fast for a slow walk out of the clubhouse. She’d fucking booked it to the driveway.
By the time I got to the window to look out, she was already pulling down the street.
“Fuck,” I sighed, dropping down into bed after, smelling that chocolate and coffee scent of her all over my sheets. It was going to make sleep impossible. But I couldn’t bring myself to strip the bed and wash her smell out of my bedding either.
I’d barely ever spoken to the woman, but I was somehow more into her than anyone else I’d ever come into contact with before.
What the fuck was that about?
Maybe it was just the mystery. The unknown. That wasn’t something I was used to either. Maybe if I just knew her damnnameI wouldn’t be so up in my head about it.
She was still what was on my mind the next day when Huck caught me coming downstairs where he and McCoy were already cleaning up the clubhouse.
“Hey, got any plans today?” he asked.
“No. Got something for me to do?” I asked.
“Want to head over to Arty’s and ask him about the Velle guy? And the new club?” he added.
“Sure.”
I mean, it wasn’t my idea of a great time. I liked Arty, don’t get me wrong, but his place was a sty. I would end up hauling out black bag after black bag full of trash teeming with fuck-knew-what to the dumpster while he clicked away at his keyboard, all but ignoring my presence.
But, it was something to do other than let my daily thoughts about my mystery woman eat me alive.
“Seeley will probably meet you there later,” Huck added.
“Alright. Anything specific you want me to ask?”
“Nah, you know Arty. He deep dives into it. He’ll tell us more than we could ever think to ask.”
“Okay. I’ll head out after I get some coffee,” I told them.
Then I did.
And the fucked up thing? The whole drive, all I could focus on was that I’d be back in Miami. Where I could possibly run into the woman again. Even though I knew that was fucking ridiculous.
My knock on Arty’s door went unanswered. Which wasn’t uncommon. He got lost in his work. Everything else ceased to exist.
When I reached for the knob, though, it turned in my hand.
“Christ, Arty, you’ve got to at least lock your fucking door,” I lectured as I moved inside, the door sliding a row of cans out of the way as it opened. “You work for all sorts of fucking unsavory people,” I added, walking right over to a window to open it up, heat be damned, because the place smelled rank.
