Club Princess - Nicole James Page 0,48
to get at my lighter in the hip pocket of my jeans, groaning at the pain that shoots through me.
Lola leans across the desk and grabs a pack of matches. She strikes one, cupping it in her hand. I lean forward, sucking on the cigarette until it flares to life.
I slump back and meet her eyes through the smoke trailing up, and say around the filter, “Thanks.”
I drag hard on it again, then pull it from my mouth, blowing smoke to the ceiling.
“You’ve got a couple of more scratches on your face,” she says and reaches for a bottle, tilting it up over a cloth, then dabs the antiseptic on them.
I study her face as she leans close to me, concentrating on her task. Those blue eyes reveal nothing, but I sense there’s a lot going on behind the mask she shows me. The touch of her hand is gentle, and I find something steadying in having her here, tending to me. With all that’s transpired between us, it’s reassuring. Maybe there’s still hope for us.
“What are you thinking, Lola?” I want to know, my eyes narrowing with curiosity. “I never can tell what’s going on inside your head.”
Her eyes flash to mine for a brief second before returning her attention to the cut on my cheek.
“I’m thinking that I should have stayed home tonight.”
The apologies I haven’t made yet, bubble up. “Lola, I was planning to call you—”
She cuts me off mid-sentence, finishing her task and turning quickly to the desk. “You don’t have to tell me anything, Memphis. No apologies. Nothing.”
I catch her hand, and tug her around to face me, reading the look in those blue eyes that never fail to suck me in.
“I’ll be coming back this way again. That’s a promise.”
Her smile trembles, and her fingers tighten around mine for a moment.
The door opens. I look impatiently at the intruder. Rock stares back at me, his features sharpening. Lola snatches her hand from mine, and I feel oddly guilty.
She collects the supplies, and snaps the kit closed. “He’s all yours.”
Both of us watch her go.
Rock moves to sit a hip on the edge of the desk, staring hard at me. The corners of his mouth are pulled into grim lines. “She takes a lot on herself.”
I lean forward to rest my elbows on my knees and lace my fingers loosely together in front of me, bowing my head to study them. “I know.”
“More than she should.”
I nod.
“Lola’s been doing that since she lost her mother.”
I sit mutely, not sure how to tread those treacherous waters. Rock cuts the silence for me.
“Don’t take advantage of her.”
I straighten and look him in the eye. “Yes, sir.”
“You hurt her, I’ll kill you myself, and it won’t be pretty.”
With that, I push unsteadily to my feet. “I should get back on the road.”
“Don’t be an ass. You’re in no condition to go anywhere tonight. Sleep it off. You’re bike will be waiting for you out front in the morning.”
That’s his subtle way of telling me he wants me gone, but the morning will be soon enough. I’m lucky he’s not taking a swing at me, himself, and again I wonder how much he knows or suspects. I move to the door, pausing to glance back. “Thanks.”
He says nothing, just gives a lift of his chin.
I exit the office and trudge down the hall toward the room I’d used last time I was here. It’s empty and I pull off my clothes and slip under the covers, letting blessed sleep suck me under.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Memphis—
My bruised ribs won’t let me sleep for long, and I scoot against the headboard and light a smoke.
My thoughts drift to the events of earlier and I probe the bandage-covered area above my eye. I contemplate yanking it off, but Lola went to the trouble of treating me, and I know she’ll be pissed if she sees I’ve pulled it off.
The clubhouse is quiet, unusually so, perhaps the trouble at Rita’s put a damper on things. I suppose I’m to blame for that, too. I’m going to be persona non grata around here tomorrow.
I hear quiet footsteps coming down the hall and wonder who’s still up and around. The knob clicks and my door pushes silently open. The shape of a woman is outlined in the rectangular patch of light from the hallway. I come to full alertness as she glides into the room. Is this some club sweet-butt come to slip uninvited into my bed?
I