Okay, so feeling her up is out, but if I wear her down, I might just snag a kiss.
“Wanna bet?”
“No!”
Challenge accepted.
-Twelve-
Lydia
Any minute now the men in the white coats are going to barge into the store and drag me to the looney bin. It’s a fate I accepted the minute I climbed onto the back of Bash’s loaner bike. At least I nixed the Target run. It’s easy to get lost in that store and I just happen to have a twenty percent coupon on my phone for Bed, Bath and Beyond. If I inherited anything from my grandma, it was her savvy shopping sense.
“What’s the difference in thread count?” Bash questions, looking genuinely perplexed as he weighs his options.
“I have no idea,” I admit.
If you ask me the whole thread count thing might as well be one of the wonders of the world. That, and the mystery of folding a fitted sheet. I’ve got nothing when it comes to those things.
“So you’re not a domestic goddess…noted,” he teases. “We’ll go with the cheaper ones than.” He puts the other package of sheets back on the shelf and starts for the front of the store.
I tag along, following him like an injured puppy. Whoever says riding a motorcycle is orgasmic, is a big fat liar. My thong is so far up my ass right now, I think it might leave a bruise, and my legs still feel like Jell-O. Let me not go on to tell you what that helmet did to my hair.
I am so not a fan.
On the flip side, I found something to add to the list of cons where Bash is concerned. However, the pro list keeps growing and every second I spend with him, I find myself wishing for ten more.
We reach the checkout counter and Bash hands the package of sheets to the cashier. He goes to pull out his money but stops and reaches for a meat tenderizer hanging on a hook of a pegboard next to the register.
“No way,” he mutters.
“What?”
“Wolf has one just like this.”
I’m sure Wolf has a whole plateau of gadgets in his kitchen, I’m just not sure why Bash is fascinated with this one, but, hey, to each his own. I hand the cashier my phone and she scans the coupon. Bash finally sets aside the tenderizer and pays the girl. He grabs the bag with one hand, and mine with the other before exiting the store. His bike comes into view and I groan. By the time this outing is over, I’m going to need to surgically remove my underwear.
Storing the bag of sheets in his saddlebags, he turns to me and pats the leather seat.
“Hop on.”
A groan rumbles from the back of my throat as I stare at the hard seat. If it’s painful for me to get on that thing, it’s gotta be for a man. It’s no wonder his balls are still intact.
“Thanks for the concern,” Bash says with a chuckle.
“What?”
“Your concern for my balls is appreciated,” he explains with a wink. Leaning in, he tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “They’re fine by the way, but if you want to—”
“I didn’t realize I said that out loud,” I interject, shooing his hand away.
“I know,” he says, cocking his head to the side. “Have you always done that? The talking out loud thing. Like even as a kid?”
I think about that for a moment. Until recently I didn’t even realize I did it and I’m starting to think it’s a habit I’ve acquired from spending so much time alone. I’m so used to talking to myself that I don’t know when to shut it down these days. It’s a problem. A big problem considering most of the time my thoughts are inappropriate. However, I’m not willing to divulge any of that to Bash. Before I can concoct a vague response, my phone rings.
“Excuse me,” I say, reaching behind me to pull it out of my backpack. A quick glance at the screen informs me it’s Chaz. Between the last-minute babysitting gig and Bash kidnapping me to go for a ride on that death trap, I completely forgot we had plans to continue our Netflix binge. Figuring he’s probably calling me to bitch me out, I silence my phone and shove it back in the bag.
“You’re not gonna answer it?” he questions, crossing his arms against his chest. There’s a bite to his tone and as I lift my gaze to his, I swear his jaw ticks with a flicker of annoyance too. Interesting.
“It’s not important,” I reply, carefully assessing his features.
“Right,” he says, dropping his hands to his sides. His gaze lingers for a moment and his lips part as if he’s about to say something, but they quickly smack together, creating a thin line. Tearing his eyes from mine, he roughly takes the helmet from the handlebars and shoves it towards me. “Better put this on if we’re gonna get out of here,” he clips.
The carefree man who muddled over thread counts is gone and for the first time since I’ve met him, Bash looks genuinely pissed. My phone rings again and he does nothing to hide his irritation.
“Not important is calling again,” he grinds out, taking the helmet out of my hands. Lifting an eyebrow, he tips his chin towards my backpack. “Maybe you should answer it.” His words sound like a dare and they touch a dark place inside of me. A place I swore no man would ever provoke again. An apology sits on my tongue as the need to explain myself churns inside my gut, while the question of how far he will take his anger runs through my head. It takes me a moment to remind myself I’m not the same person I was two years ago and the man in front of me isn’t Declan. Once that registers, I stare at Bash’s tense jaw and narrow my eyes in confusion.
“Are you seriously ticked at me right now because I received a phone call?”
“No,” he replies immediately, clucking his tongue as the phone continues to ring. Pushing out a sigh, he pulls the baseball hat from his head and runs a hand roughly over his head. “We never discussed if you were seeing someone…I guess I just assumed you were single.”
My eyes go wide at his words.
“You saw the contact name on my phone and because it’s a guy you think I’m seeing someone else?”
“It makes sense,” he mutters, more to himself than to me. “You’re always running off, doing everything in your power to avoid this…” he pauses to point a finger between us. Then, like a mad man, a chuckle escapes him, and he steps away from me. “God, I’m an idiot. I thought you were playing hard to get.”
Staring at his back in shock, I shake my head.
“Chaz is my friend,” I blurt. “My only friend, actually, and he’s calling me because I had plans with him tonight, but you…you… kidnaped me.”
Bash turns around abruptly and roughly fisting the baseball hat in his hand.
“Kidnaped is laying it on a bit thick, don’t you think?”
The phone rings again and I mutter a curse, roughly reaching behind me for my backpack. I don’t bother digging inside for the phone. I’m too angry. Too frustrated with everything. So, I toss it. Yep, I take the bag and throw it. I’m no quarterback so it lands at Bash’s feet, but damn it feels good.
Repositioning the baseball cap on his head, Bash bends to retrieve my backpack. I go completely still as he lifts the front flap and pulls out the offensive device. He stares at it for a beat before extending it to me.
“Answer the phone, Lydia,” he says softly, his thick southern accent on full display. Luckily, he doesn’t follow with one of his infamous darlin’s or I’d be a goner. “Ask him if he likes pepperoni on his pizza.”
“What?”
He sighs, closing the distance between us.
“I’m sorry,” he drawls, taking my hand. He turns it over and deposits the phone into my palm. “I’m a dick. I should’ve asked if you had plans but, well, I don’t know how to act around you. That night at Kate’s…fuck, Lydia, it’s all I can think about. You, you’re all I think about. I’ve never been this consumed by a woman before and I don’t know what the fuck to do with myself. I keep telling everyone you’re not the reason I’m here, but I just spent the last few days holed up with Riggs and you were never far from my mind. When I wasn’t wondering what you were doing, I was
counting down the minutes until I could see you again. I’m like a fucking junkie, jonesing for a fix.”
He pauses for a beat before offering me a small smile.
“I like you Lydia and I want to get to know you. You say you don’t want a repeat, fine. What about a do-over? We can wipe the slate clean and start fresh. Be friends until you feel comfortable enough to go on a real date with me. No more tricking you into sharing meals with me. I won’t even ask you to hang out with me.”
“Bash,” I whisper, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat.
He lifts a finger to my lips, silencing me.
“I’m sorry I stole you away from your friend. I’ll take you back to Kate’s, you can get your car and see if it isn’t too late to meet up with…Chaz, is it? I did promise you dinner so if you know what kind of pizza he likes, I’ll order one—”
“Shut up,” I interrupt, my voice thick with emotion.
I know I’m about to make a mistake, one that might ultimately cost me more than just a bruised heart, but I can’t help it and more than that, I don’t want to. I don’t want to fight these feelings I’m having for Bash. If only for a little while, I want to be a normal woman, someone who relishes in the attention of a man and doesn’t fear it. I want to forget I’m a victim. I want to live. I want to love. I want to grow old like my gram and maybe one day tell my own grandchildren how beautiful love can be. I just need to find the courage to take the plunge and leave the past behind me
“Chaz likes pineapple on his pizza,” I say. “I don’t.”
“What do you like?”
It’s a simple question and yet it causes me to freeze. Once upon a time, pizza was my favorite meal. That was until Declan reminded me of the calorie intake and punished me for gaining weight. I avoided the Italian classic at all costs. A shame really, considering pizza was more than just a meal for me. It was a tradition. Pizza Friday was my thing with my gram. Until I married Declan, we would make everything from scratch. The sauce and the dough. We’d load them with mozzarella and sausage. It was something I hoped I’d one day do with my own children. I pictured gram and I in the kitchen, teaching my kids how to roll the dough. I don’t know what’s more jarring, knowing I’ll never have that or realizing I still haven’t allowed myself to eat pizza. For fuck’s sake, I’m still cutting my cucumbers in half!
Balling my hands into fists, I try to control my rage and lift my gaze back to Bash.
Enough.
I’ve had enough.
“Everything,” I reply. “Meatballs, sausage, ham, everything but pineapple. My gram would roll over in her grave if she knew I put that shit on my pizza.”
He lifts an eyebrow.
“Okay,” he says slowly. “So, we’ll get one with pineapple and one with the works.”
I nod, releasing a ragged breath.
“And a calzone with ham.”
“A cal who?”
I close my eyes. I forgot who I was talking to.
“Forget it,” I murmur, opening my eyes. Cocking my head to the side, I take in the smile teasing his lips and a pang of sadness hits me hard. My gram would’ve loved this southern soul. I can almost hear her voice with that broken English accent of hers, scolding me to cut him slack.
He’s one of the good ones, Bella.
“I’ll call Chaz and tell him to meet us at your apartment,” I say hoarsely.
“My apartment,” he repeats.
“Well, someone has to help you with those sheets, right?”
“I can make a bed, Lydia.”
“Fine,” I relent, huffing out a breath. “You’re going to make me say the words, aren’t you?”
He tries to hide the smile, but it’s hard to miss since I’m staring at his lips trying to recall how they feel against mine.
“I like you too and I’m not here, standing in front of you because you tricked me. Well, maybe a little, but I’m also here because I want to be and if you still want to have dinner with me and Chaz, I’d like that too.”
His grin widens as he bends his head and rests his forehead against mine.
“You like me, huh?”
“It sounds ridiculous,” I whine. After all, what thirty-two-year-old woman tells a man she likes him. It’s almost as bad as saying, you’re cute. I might be out of practice but that’s just ridiculous. Someone shoot me if I start saying things like ‘what are we?’ and ‘duh’.
Silencio, Bella.
“Actually, it’s the best thing I’ve heard in a while,” he says, pulling back. He presses a quick kiss to my forehead and smiles widely, tipping his chin to the phone in my hand. “Get Chaz on the horn.”
Looks like I’m about to take the plunge.
Here goes nothing, gram.
I hope you’re smiling.
-Thirteen-
Bash
A win, no matter how small, is still a win in my book and right now while Lydia nervously paces my apartment, I toy with the idea of hosting a ticker tape parade in my honor. It was touch and go there for a second when I spied Chaz’s name on her phone. I immediately let my imagination run away with me and assumed the worst like she had a boyfriend. In my head it made sense, and I was angry with myself for not seeing the signs sooner. So angry that I made a fool of myself. I don’t regret it, though.
After my jealousy reared its ugly head, Lydia shared Chaz was just a friend. She also admitted he was her only friend, and that she broke plans with him to spend time with me. But that’s not where the victory lies. Seeing her so vulnerable and knowing she shared a piece of herself with me, albeit a small one, that’s the win.
I wasn’t feeding her lines when I told her I spent most of the last few days camped outside Riggs’ house, wondering what she was doing and when I would see her next. It’s fucking nuts, I know and wooing her should be the furthest thing from my mind. But I can honestly tell you, having her here, rambling on about her friend as we wait for him and our food to arrive, it’s the most content I’ve felt in a really long time.
I don’t want tonight to end.
Even if she doesn’t share any more pieces of herself.
Even if she doesn’t let me feel her lips against mine.
Just having her here, knowing this is where she wants to be, it’s enough for now.
Although, my dick would disagree.
Especially since I’m almost certain she’s not wearing a bra and I’ve been sitting here trying to tame my hard on.
A knock sounds at the door, forcing me to tear my gaze away from her nipples poking through the Big Nose Kate’s shirt she’s wearing.
“Oh God, it’s him,” she mutters, staring at the closed door.
“Or the pizza,” I remind her as I rise from my place on the couch. Digging into my jeans, I pull out some cash for the delivery guy and start for the door. As I pass Lydia, she reaches out and grabs my arm.
“Wait.”
Another knock sounds and she snaps her attention towards the door, chewing nervously on her lower lip.
“What’s the matter?”
“Chaz…he’s…well…”
“What?” I question, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes flit to mine and for a moment she stares at me silently. “Lydia, what is it? Does he have a third eye or something?”
“No,” she replies, shaking her head. “Let’s just say he has really great eyelashes, though.”
“I’m not following.”
“Chaz is a drag queen,” she sighs, releasing her hold on her lip. “At night…during the day he dresses like a guy, though. Good God, I’m saying this all wrong,” she groans. Huffing out a breath, she blows the stray hairs away from her face and peers up at me under her lashes. “Chaz is gay.”
Waiting for her to elaborate on why this is an issue, I raise an eyebrow.
“He’s had a rough go of it since he’s come out and I guess, I’m just looking out for him. I don’t want you to be weird around him or make him feel uncomfortable.”
“
If you think I would do that, you’ve got a lot to learn about me, Lydia. I don’t give a shit if your friend is gay. In fact, I’m kinda relieved. If you’re as close to him as you say you are and he was straight, there’s no way he wouldn’t be trying to put the moves on you.”
“Oh, believe me, he’s as gay as they come.”
I smile, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her forehead.
“Stop worrying.”
“I’m not worried,” she lies. “But if he’s got his boobs on don’t stare okay? And if he hits on you—”
“If he hits on me, I’ll tell him, I’m flattered but I’ve got my eye on someone else. Now, are we going to leave him outside because that’s just rude.”
“Fine,” she huffs, releasing my arm. I laugh and move for the door. With a smile on my face, I pull it open and find who I assume is Chaz, dressed in a pair of simple gray sweats and a black t-shirt. He lifts his head, slowly letting his gaze rake over me.
“Chaz, is it?”
“Holy hunk.”
I chuckle, stepping aside to let him into the apartment
“Thanks,” I reply. “It’s good to meet you. Come in. The pizza should be here any minute.”
He enters the apartment and immediately seeks out Lydia.
“Chaz, this is Bash,” she introduces, waving a hand from me to him. “Bash, Chaz.”
“Girl, you weren’t kidding,” Chaz says as he makes his way to Lydia. Reaching her, he wraps his arms around her tiny frame and gives her a gentle squeeze. “You’re totally forgiven for ditching me for dick.”
“Chaz,” Lydia groans. “Can you tone it down? You’re making it awkward.”
Ignoring her comment, he pulls back an inch to study her face.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you did get the D, didn’t you?”
“No, but I’d appreciate it if you put in a good word,” I chime in.
Lydia shoots me a glare from over her friend’s shoulder and I wink at her. I’m just about to close the door when I hear the delivery man approaching. I pay him for the pizza and whatever the hell a calzone is, before taking both from his hands. Kicking the door closed, I walk the food towards the breakfast nook. Lydia and Chaz join me and immediately they make themselves at home in the kitchen, opening cabinets in search of plates. I grab the six-pack of beer from the fridge and offer one to Chaz. He eagerly accepts and when I go to pop one open for Lydia, he shakes his head.
Shifting Gears (Satan's Knights Prospect Trilogy Book 1) Page 10