voice is way more confident when she’s on the defense. “So, do you know him?”
Again, I almost laugh at her fucking gall. “Yeah, I do. I’ll put in a good word for you. Granger is always looking for a new whore. Although with you being religious, that might be a problem since Granger likes them nasty.”
I light up my cigarette and take a breath. This is fucking pathetic. I’m fighting with this woman as if we’re a couple and I haven’t even fucked her.
I walk to my island and grab a bottle of Jack Daniels. Taking a swig, I don’t even look at her.
“Can I use your bathroom, please?” She’s pissed, not that I blame her. I’m being a dick, but that’s me.
I bring the bottle to my lips, my eyes never leaving hers as I down a good portion, letting the spicy flavor sting its way to my gut.
“Second door to the right in my bedroom, princess.”
She looks down at her feet and nods, heading toward my room. I almost grab her. Instead I bring the bottle to my mouth before I say or do something I’ll regret.
She hesitates at the doorframe. “I’m filthy. Do you mind if I take a shower?” Her voice drips sarcasm.
I snort. “Darlin’, make yourself at home.”
ANTOINETTE
Leaning against his bedroom door, I try to steady my breathing. This was a mistake. A huge one.
I can’t even try to understand my emotions. All I know is I want to run and hide. I grab one of my trash bags full of clothes and rush into his bathroom. Locking myself in, I blink and adjust to how clean the room is. Strike that. It’s spotless with a faint smell of bleach.
“Unreal,” I whisper, fighting back the tears that I’m not sure are from humiliation or shock. I’m locked in a biker’s bathroom, albeit the cleanest bathroom I’ve ever been in.
This is ridiculous. It all happened so fast. My mind is still trying to catch up. Closing my eyes, I let the truth of today and my reality crash over me.
I had no choice, right? I had to have the cops call him. I was in trouble and scared and he was the only person I thought to call.
What does that mean?
I take a deep breath and know exactly what it means: he came and he took care of it. It’s time to stop crying and start thinking.
I push myself away from the door. Checking to make sure it’s locked, I remove my jacket and drape it over a wicker hamper. The bathroom is black—he seems to favor that color if his clothes, tattoos, and bedding are any indication.
There’s a large dark cherrywood buffet cabinet on the other side of the shower. It’s plain yet classy. The bathroom could be in GQ in a piece on how to have the perfect bachelor pad bathroom. I almost don’t want to put my dirty clothes on his floor.
This is crazy. I pull off my top and kick off my leggings as I open the large glass door to the shower. It’s spacious, and he has a rain faucet like the one I had in the house I grew up in.
The shower in my apartment was barely big enough for one person. I had to be careful not to knock myself out when I bent down to shave my legs.
Turning on the water, I glance over my shoulder into his mirror and frown at my reflection. God, I’m a disaster. Eyes and lips swollen. Pale. I guess I need a tan, but that’s the least of my problems.
Axel. He’s a problem.
I take a deep breath and step into the hot water. I’m all screwed up. He’s a combination of everything I want and everything I hate. One second, he’s looking at me in a way that makes it hard to breathe. The next, I want to kick him in the face.
He’ll put in a good word with Granger.
Grabbing some shampoo, I roughly wash my hair, replaying all that’s happened… starting with this morning’s fucking mess. I groan at what a disaster this day has been.
Instead of attending an early morning hip-hop class, I should have stayed in bed. But come on, how could I have imagined Ryan would be such a snake? The moving truck parked on my street should have been a big fat red flag.
God, the looks on that couple’s faces when they opened the door to my apartment. Thankfully all I was doing was stretching. Had they