Rhythm of the Road - Autumn Jones Lake Page 0,134

side of his head. “It’s why I was put on this earth.”

“Lucky us.” I jerk my head toward the truck. “Come on. I want to get her inside.”

“Switch those last two words around, and I’ll believe you.”

“Christ, you’re a fucking pain in the ass,” I grumble, stalking to Shelby’s side of the truck. “We’re here, chickadee,” I say in a hushed voice.

“Jesus.” Jiggy leans on the truck and stares up at the sky. “I haven’t seen you like this since high school.”

“What’s your point?”

He glances at Shelby. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“I’m never fucking you, so put that thought right outta yer head,” Shelby rasps.

“You’re awake.” He slaps the side of the truck. “Listening in?”

“Kinda hard not to hear your big mouth.” She slides out of the truck.

I’m busy laughing for a solid minute. Hell, even Jiggy’s laughing.

“Now, why did your dirty little mind go there, Shelby?” Jigsaw asks with a big grin stretched across his face.

She waves her hands in the air. “That story you told about giving up your V-card to his girlfriend.”

“Ex-girlfriend,” I correct.

“Ex. Whatever.”

“That was years ago.” Jigsaw pulls a puppy-dog face. “I’ve matured since then.”

“If you’re not planning to help unload the truck, can you at least get out of my way?” I shove him to the side and yank open the back door, pulling out Shelby’s bags.

She and Jiggy continue their verbal sparring all the way into the clubhouse. I can’t help watching with a goofy-as-fuck grin. Nothing better than a sassy woman who can go toe to toe with my best friend.

We say hello to a few brothers we pass in the clubhouse. Ice and Pants are nowhere to be found. I’ll have to try to catch Ice in the morning.

And catch myself a stalker tomorrow night.

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Shelby

Tonight, I’m more alert, and I study the clubhouse as we walk to our room.

Jiggy gives Rooster a fist bump and says good night at our door.

Inside, I take my backpack and one of my totes from Rooster. “I’m sorry you’re always schlepping my stuff around.”

“It’s fine.”

I drop my bag on the bed and unzip it, searching for my jammy pants. “So, is this place where the porno magic happens?” I ask.

“Are you still pissy about my job?” He stalks closer, hands on his hips.

I snort. “Some job.”

“Seriously?”

“Sorry, guess I haven’t had a lot of time to process—”

“Don’t,” he warns me. “You got some motherfucker stalking you, and you lied to me about it for days.”

“I didn’t lie about anything.”

“Are you fucking kidding?”

I hurry and dig through my backpack faster. Where are my damn pants? My fingers brush against something soft, and I pull out the velvet bag with my tarot cards. I’ve been too scared to do a reading since the last one where the devil card and his two buddies popped up again.

“Shelby?”

I blink back tears. Oh my God. Is this it? The impending breakup? I duck my head, not wanting him to see me cry.

“Hey.” He brushes his knuckles over my cheek. “I didn’t mean to yell.”

I risk a peek at him. He’s still tight with anger but love and concern also burn in his eyes. “I don’t want to break up.”

He frowns and takes a step back. “Where did you get break up from what I said?”

I shrug.

“Get over here.” He pulls me against his chest, stroking his hand over my head. “Break up? You’re not getting rid of me, woman.”

“Don’t stay because you think you have to protect me.” I snuffle against his shirt. “It’s not your job.”

He sweeps his hands up and down my back, soothing a little of the storm inside me.

“Shelby,” he says softly. “Why’d you go to breaking up?” He leads me over to the side of the bed and snaps on the table lamp.

I can’t form any words and end up uselessly shaking my head.

“I don’t like you thinking that every time we have a…disagreement or we’re angry with each other that it means I’m leaving you. We can talk and work through anything.”

I blink and turn over his words. Work through? Sure, Rooster’s gruff on the outside. But he’s always thoughtful and concerned about me. About us. But can I really trust that he won’t walk out the door one day and never come back without telling me why?

“I hate that every time we spoke on the phone and I asked you if you were okay, you didn’t tell me about the letters.” He taps his chest. “But I’m right here.”

“You’re still mad at me?”

“Not at

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