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Another kiss landed on my chest, this time over my heart.
“Let me shower, and I’ll come apologize properly for being late.”
I stared at the ceiling as he moved around the room, until I heard the water turn on. Tomorrow was the club picnic, and I already knew what would be expected of me, and I was already dreading it.
I had worn my property patch when I was around the club, but every time I did, there was a slice of my pride that seemed to be cut from me. I never wanted this life. I didn’t get to choose the father I had, or the mom. I didn’t get to choose my home, or the car we drove, or the way I was picked up from school as a little girl. I didn’t get to choose anything about my life, except Wes, it seemed, and now he’d been taken from me too.
Recently, after learning of what Wes had done, and coming to terms with how he’d made his bed, and I was reluctantly going to lie in it with him, I had come to terms with my anger over the situation. Acceptance led to hurt, and a gaping wound where the club was concerned.
I completely detested how happy Wes was with his place in the club.
It was as though he’d found a new family that fit him perfectly, and the connection he had with my dad and Killian was so tight that there was no question he’d become a high-ranking member. Killian was the vice president, but Wes was directly under him and was included in every decision my dad made for the club, which took all of his time. Wesley owned the mechanic shop on paper, but he hadn’t set foot inside the garage in six months. Wes had hinted at getting married ever since we were seventeen, and now here we were. I’d just turned nineteen and there wasn’t a single conversation we’d had about it since.
In fact, I hardly saw him, and when I did, it was at home.
Tossing the covers off my legs, I sat up and took a calming breath. The shadows continued to flicker along the far wall as the branches swayed outside. The water from the shower turned off, and before Wes could come out, I had to push down these raw emotions. I wanted just one night where we didn’t argue about his new role. It’s all we seemed to do anymore. I had to focus on the good and assume it would get easier.
NINETEEN
CALLIE
PRESENT
There weren’tany blackout curtains in Wesley’s room, so as soon as the sun rose over the hill, I was awake. Honestly, I was grateful, because while Wes looked like a sleeping warrior with that hard jawline and those high cheekbones. I was sure I resembled something that had crawled out of a sewer.
I thought back to how, after his shower last night and our harsh words, he had slid in next to me in bed. I had held my breath, waiting for him to turn away from me, but he shocked me by pulling me to his chest and nuzzling my neck. He didn’t say anything, but we both fell asleep like that. Sometime during the night, I escaped his hold so I could reflect on what I was doing and why I was doing it. I needed to focus on getting information and selling the property. Stop fantasizing about tattoo shops and local farmers’ markets, and how good Wesley’s house would look with mint-colored curtains, or a bench at the end of his bed.
Closing my eyes to erase those domesticated images, I sat up in bed and then walked into the bathroom. Gleaming, white tile stretched below me, cool under my bare feet. The large soaking tub in the corner silently called to me, begging me to feel those jets against my aching back. The glass shower was big enough for a group of people to join inside, although there was only one showerhead. Seemed like a giant waste of space if you didn’t have a bench to sit, or a double spout.
Wes had a few masculine shampoos and soaps inside, and there on the small inlet on the back wall were my things; my shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. He’d brought them in after unpacking for me. Even my razor was lying over the top of the shampoo lid. Wes was thoughtful, considerate, and an asshole all at once. It was maddening.
I bit my nail as I slowly turned, finally seeing myself in the mirror. My hair was a mess and looked like I’d been rolling around all night having rough sex. I laughed at the thought and stripped out of Wesley’s shirt.
Stepping under the hot spray of water, I took another look around the bathroom and practically lamented over how stunning it was. It was so much nicer than anything I’d had at any point in my life, and while I was happy for Wes, it did leave me feeling a little insecure. Wes had nice things growing up, and I was perpetually poor. Then I grew up to be meager, and while I was confident in who I was, I wasn’t assured that I was good enough for someone as accomplished as Wes. He’d gone to college, started his own business, and even had his own TV show. All I had going for me were my skills with ink and the piercing gun.
A few people had tagged me on Instagram, showing off their tattoos and how good of a job I did. I loved reading the comments about how amazing the detail was or how creative the design. I got a few clients that way, and it always made me feel so damn special, like maybe leaving Rose Ridge was worth it. Then the rent would come due, and I’d be right back to wondering what in the hell I was doing.
Wes suddenly walked into the bathroom, making me jump, and breaking me out of my thoughts. His dark boxers molded to his muscular thighs and round ass so perfectly that I had to withhold a groan. With a smirk in my direction, he pulled his morning wood clear of the constraint of his boxers, stroked once, and then shut himself inside the alcove with the toilet.
I quickly rinsed my hair and turned off the water. There were clean towels on a shelf to the left, so I tugged one on, hoping to avoid Wes. Once I darted into his bedroom, I shut myself in his closet and began to change. It was stupid—he’d just seen me naked, and I was literally sucking his cock the night prior—but I was worried if he touched me again, I’d be simpering for him to finish what he’d started last night.
Once I was dressed, I walked downstairs while brushing out my hair. Laura was at the table, sipping a cup of coffee while scrolling through her phone. She wore last night’s pajamas, with her knee hiked up, her chin resting on it, her messy hair tied up in a twist on top of her head.
She yawned. “Oh good, you’re up.”
I smiled and turned for the coffee machine.
“How long have you been awake?”
Right as I opened a cupboard for a mug, the front door opened. Killian walked in, stalling once his stare landed on Laura.
She froze, mid sip, before rolling her eyes and pushing part of her hair off her neck.
“Six,” she replied curtly, right as Wes jogged downstairs.
Killian gave him a nod, then took a seat across from Laura. “Six what?”
Laura lifted a dark brow then circled the top of her mug with her finger. “Six, as in the number of men I kissed last night. Do you really want to know the details?”
