Club Princess - Nicole James Page 0,44
I can think about is that I’ve put Lola in a shit-ton of danger.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Lola—
I lean over the pool table to line up my shot. My gaze flicks up, and I catch Utah checking out my ass. I can’t help the grin that steals across my face. It feels good to be up at the clubhouse, having fun, and not thinking about Memphis or what that psychic said for a change. I sink my ball in the corner pocket, and straighten.
Utah stands, feet spread, his arms crossed, his eyes following me around the table as I move into position for my next shot. I pick up the little blue chalk square, and rub the tip of my stick, tormenting him for another minute. Then I reach over to the high-top table, and grab the shot glass full of Fireball, downing it.
I may not be able to knock back Tequila like the guys, but I love this stuff. It goes down smooth and easy, and warms all the way to my belly.
“Finish me off, Lola,” Utah growls with a lift of one brow.
I grin. “I’m workin’ on it. What’s your rush?”
He rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth pulls up.
As I bend over the table, stretching to make the final shot, I hear him telling the prospect to bring the bottle of Fireball.
When I run the rest of the table and sink the eight ball, I straighten to find Utah refilling my glass. I stroll over, catching his eyes on my hips and bare midriff. He’s drinking a beer, and raises the bottle to his lips, those eyes still on my body. I chuckle, and hold out my hand.
“Pay up, Utah.”
He pulls a twenty out of his hip pocket, and tucks the bill in the chest pocket of the sleeveless blouse that’s tied up under my breasts.
My brows rise. “Watch it, old man.”
“I ain’t that old, Lola.”
I chuckle, and down the shot, my eyes suddenly drawn to the door of the clubhouse. Memphis stands there, eyes scanning the room. He spots me, and our eyes hold for a long moment.
My mouth goes dry, and I feel butterflies in my stomach. Or maybe it’s all the Fireball. I suddenly feel lightheaded. The smile fades from my face, and I feel Utah’s presence next to me, shift. He moves to partially block my view, but he follows my gaze, twisting to look over his shoulder toward the door.
He grabs my chin, and brings my eyes to his. “He’s a Nomad, Lola. That spells nothin’ but heartache for you.”
I pull my chin back from his grasp, and nod. “I know.”
“Stay away from him.”
I can’t let that slide, so I stare him down. “I’ve already got a father, and you’re not him.”
His chin pulls to the side. “Not tryin’ to be your father, princess. Just lookin’ out for you.”
“I appreciate it, Utah. Really, I do.” I pat his cheek. “But you don’t have to worry about me.” With that I strut through the crowd toward the hall to the bathrooms. I spot Memphis, now sitting at the bar with Darko and T-Bone, but his eyes follow me. I barely give him a glance, thrusting my chin in the air. Fuck him and the Harley he rode in on. How dare he show up here again after all this time without a word? If he thinks he’s going to just pick up where he left off, he’s got another thing coming.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Memphis—
The sound of Lola’s laughter drifts to me, reminding me of the soft tinkle of wind chimes. I wonder what the Durango Enforcer said to make her laugh. With an effort, I pull my gaze from the doorway where she’s gone, probably to the restroom to freshen up.
After making the long ride here, only to find her with him, has me edgy and irritable. I wait a few minutes, downing a shot, then grab my longneck, and wander through the crowd to position myself near the back hall. I take a swig of beer, and soon spot her approaching out of the corner of my eye. Twisting, I set the bottle down on a nearby table.
I grab her arm as she swings past with her nose in the air, attempting to ignore me, but I’m not about to let her. I pull her back down the dark hall, and hem her in against the wall. “Don’t fucking pretend I don’t exist, babe.”
“You don’t,” she snaps back.
“Bullshit. I can see the rapid pulse beating