“I’m Bull,” I tell her. “I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s nice to put a face to the name.”
“Likewise,” she says as her eyes flick over to Amelia in suspicion before coming back to mine. “You leaving?”
“Apparently so,” I tell her before turning back to Amelia. “I’ll see you Saturday night.”
She instantly starts shaking her head, the rejection on the tip of her tongue. “I told you—”
“You can pick her up at seven,” Zoey cuts in with a grin the size of Texas on her face. “She doesn’t like seafood or anything that will make her feel bloated.”
“Zoey,” Amelia hisses.
“You got it,” I say, sending a wink Amelia’s way and pulling the door closed behind me before she gets a chance to back out.
I grab my welder and look over the railing once more, proud as fuck and feeling like the mother fucking man. That was a good night. I’m fucking exhausted after such a long shift, but I would have stood at that counter for hours if I could.
She makes my heart beat in a way I’ve never experienced before, and all I know is that Saturday night can’t come fast enough.
I throw the welder in the back of my truck and climb in before starting up the engine. I get halfway home when my phone lights up with a text, reminding me that I never checked the earlier one. I unlock it to find two texts from Jessa.
Jessa – You busy?
Jessa – Are you coming ‘round? If you don’t get here soon, I’ll have to do it myself.
I look at the time and realize it’s well after midnight. I was with Amelia for two hours, yet it feels as though I’m leaving way too soon. Just those two hours with her was enough to get my blood pumping in all the right ways. I’m on edge, and there’s nothing I’d like more than to go for a quick fuck, but it won’t be with Jessa. It won’t be with anyone. That urge to sink into a random pussy just isn’t there anymore.
Now, Amelia, that’s something worth waiting for.
I delete the texts and get my ass home. I know I won’t be getting any sleep until I’ve had one hell of a cold shower, or I rub one out like a fucking teenage boy thinking about that body of hers. Yeah, I’m going to have to go with option two, only I know it won’t even compare to what it would be like having the real thing.
CHAPTER 8
AMELIA
Zoey and I walk out to my car with the girls in tow. She takes Ryan, and I take Coby, each of us putting up the fight to get them buckled into their car seats when all they want to do is play.
My body burns from our workout. I decided to take the whole self-defense thing seriously after Bull made himself welcome in my home the other night. I was ashamed at how effortlessly he avoided the wrath of my baseball bat. I don't stand a chance against a real intruder.
Zoey, thinking it was a great idea, tagged along for moral support, hoping the instructor was a young hottie for her to feast her eyes upon. Unfortunately for her, he was about fifty with an outfit suggesting that he bats for the other team. I’ve never seen so much disappointment on my friend’s face before, but apart from that, we actually had a really great time.
I think we got more laughing and screwing around done than actual self-defense. But I think we’ll end up coming back each week, and hopefully, we’ll learn a few things that could potentially save our lives. It was a great form of exercise, and the girls were able to come along. The facility has a child-minding area knowing that a lot of the women who attend self-defense classes are moms. It was great knowing that they were well taken care of while Zoey and I did our thing. It was like a mini-vacation for me. They definitely get my vote.
We get the girls buckled, and I drop down into my car beside Zoey. “Are your legs hurting?” I whine, starting up the car and pulling out of my parking space.
“Yes,” she groans, rubbing her hands down her thighs. “I’m not going to be able to move for days.”
“Why sore, Mommy?” Ryan questions from the back seat as Coby blows spit bubbles behind me.
Zoey gives me a devilish grin. “Because Mommy had to get on her