Page 45 of Laila Manning
“Stop.” I snapped, feeling my body heat increase just thinking about Zeke being kinky like that.
“There’s that green-eyed monster.” Elora joked. “Can’t even let us talk about Zeke sexually.”
Carly laughed at my expense, but I wasn’t mad, because she was right. “I remember how I felt about Jed in the beginning, too.” She assured me, “I was very possessive too, but that lessens the longer you’re together and feel more confident in the strength of the relationship.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Elora challenged. “I’ll still cut a bitch for looking at Ryker with bedroom eyes.” She shrugged. “You included.” She smirked at her best friend.
“Ladies,” I intervened comically.
“Okay, back to the point.” Carly glared at Elora before looking back at me. “Here.” She grabbed a paper off the printer as it came out and handed it to me. “Take the test, think about the answers, and then we’ll plug them in and get your results.”
“Take the kink test?” I droned, “No.”
“Yes.” She shoved the paper into my hand and closed it with hers. “You should know these answers before you enter a sexual relationship with someone who has so much more experience in the real world of sex.”
“Shut up.” I ripped the paper and my hand out of hers theatrically. “My green monster is growing.” I glared at her as I stood up, folding the paper up and putting it in my back pocket. “I have to go to therapy.”
“Have fun!” Carly called as I walked through her house. “Learn something.”
“Make wise choices!” Elora called out after her. Before I shut the front door behind me, she sang, “Our little girl is getting so grown up.”
I shook my head with a smirk on my face as I walked through the grass back to the barracks to drop off the offensive paper, burning a hole in my pocket before I left for therapy.
There was no way I was going to my session with that bomb in my pants.
Chapter 12 – Laila
“I’ve been looking for you.” A gruff voice called as I stared at the cracks in the sidewalk in front of me.
“Why?” I rolled my eyes, looking up and getting blinded by the bright sunlight before Diesel Ames stepped in the way, blocking the offensive glare so I could drop my hand from my face.
“Because you keep changing your schedule.” He stated plainly.
“You know you are kind of creepy when you don’t filter your thoughts, right?” I mused, feeling so numb from therapy that I didn’t even feel the fear I normally got from being in men’s presence. Most men, though to be honest, not usually around the MC president with his menacing scars and long wild hair tied back.
His face pulled up in a smirk, accentuating the gnarly scars covering his cheeks. “Yet you never tell me to get lost.” A loud horn honked from the busy street, reminding me I had been walking before he interrupted me.
“Wrong.” I started walking again, and as expected, he followed. “I’m pretty sure I’ve told you to kick rocks almost every time I’ve seen you out randomly.” I stopped and glared at him. “Or not so randomly.”
He smirked again and moved the toothpick between his teeth with his tongue. “I had business in this part of town.”
“Right.” I pressed the button for the crossing light and waited, hoping he’d get on with it or get lost. “What do you want, Diesel?”
“You’re snappy today.” He scoffed as if he was offended, but I didn’t think anything really offended the man. Other than pushing his tricked-out motorcycle down a cliff or something as extreme.
“I’m burned out.” I pushed the button again. “Therapy has that effect on me.”
“How’s that going?” He asked, like we were old friends. And in a way, he kind of was his own version of a friend to me, I guess. I wouldn’t really know how to make friends organically since the only two I had were partially related, and we all shared space on the estate. It wasn’t like I met them at a restaurant and complimented them on their outfits and became fast friends or whatever girls do.
Hell, I wasn’t even a good friend to Diesel, since every time he came around, I told him to get lost.
“I mean, she hasn’t strapped me down and shocked me with electrodes.” I shrugged, making him snort, “Yet.”
“Sounds like my kind of Saturday night.” He joked, though I didn’t know how much of a joke it actually was. “But do you feel like it’s helping? With the anxiety and stuff?”
It was my turn to snort, “And stuff?” I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, it’s helping.” I looked back across the street and watched people walking and passing by each other, busy and on their way with their day. Yet my only purpose was walking down the street.
Diesel said something about progress or something, but I was distracted as I watched a kid walk out of an alley across the street, with a hood pulled down deep over his head and his shoulders hunched under his baggy tattered sweater.
