Page 7 of Ravaged and Ruined
The crowd shifts, and I catch a glimpse of Marianna out of the corner of my eye. She’s standing with Grizzly talking. I can’t help but watch them for a moment, noticing the chemistry that neither of them will admit, not with her uncle being a member of the club and Grizzly being… well, Grizzly. But it’s there, that little spark, flickering between them. I can’t help but wonder if they’ll ever let themselves give in to whatever this thing is between them. I hate to admit it but it almost helps to know I’m not the only one being denied something I want.
From behind me Emery appears, her lips spread into a wide smile and her eyes dancing with excitement. “You’re never going to guess what just happened.”
Cocking my grin, I raise an eye, “By the smile on your face, I’m not sure we want the sexy details.”
Emery laughs and smacks me on the arm playfully, “Not that. Aero agreed to help me get the shelter up and running and introduced me to Quinn from the Royal Harlots. She’s willing to help me too. We might actually be able to pull this off.”
“That’s great,” Zoey squeals, “I’m happy for you.”
The mere mention of Aero’s name makes my heart flutter but I don’t give into my desire to glance over my shoulder to see him. “It is Em, if anyone can pull this off it’s you. I know how much it means to you.”
That’s the thing about Aero. He can be cold, distant, and downright impossible to read. Sometimes an outright asshole,but when it comes to his club and the people who matter, he shows up. Always. He puts their needs above his own every damn time. Maybe that’s the problem, because there’s never anything left for himself.
The music shifts, a familiar beat pounding through the speakers, and Zoey and Emery let out matching squeals of excitement.
“I love this song!” they shout in unison.
I laugh as Emery grabs my hands, twirling me until the room blurs around us. The bass vibrates in my chest. Zoey jumps in, her smile wide, her feet moving quick as we spin into a wild circle of laughter and energy. Midge and Marianna follow, their laughter loud enough to rise above the music. For a moment, I let it all in. The joy, the chaos, the warmth of having them by my side. I shove my feelings for Aero into the background where they belong, at least for now. Maybe tonight, I let the weight of past mistakes and bad choices drown under the next drink, the next laugh, the next song.
Even with my back turned, I feel the weight of his stare, heavy and heated, rolling off him like a storm from across the room. If I turned now, I know exactly what I’d see, dark, brooding eyes that have been my undoing too many times to count. But I don’t look. I can’t.
I laugh louder with Zoey, spinning again, pretending I don’t feel the space Aero has put between us and I hate how badly I want him to close it. The longer I push it down, the harder it fights to surface. The longing, the frustration, the desperate part of me that wants him to see me the way I see him. I’m not just another warm body in his bed. I’m not a fleeting thought. I want to be the one he turns to, the one he needs.
And even though I try not to look, I do. My gaze is drawn to him like a magnet, locking on to the hard set of his jaw, the way his leather vest hugs his broad shoulders, the tension ripplingthrough his muscles. He stands with his arms crossed, cold and distant, but his eyes… God, his eyes. They burn with the kind of intensity that makes me feel like I’m everything only to turn cold and leave me feeling like nothing.
I want him. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
I tip my head back, taking another slow sip of my drink, trying to swallow down the doubt clawing at my chest. If Aero wants me, really wants me, then he needs to say it. He needs to show it. And if he won’t then maybe it’s time I stopped waiting.
Chapter Three
Aero
I storm into the main area of the clubhouse, the glass door slamming shut behind me so hard I glance over my shoulder to check it didn’t shatter. The world feels like it’s spinning, but I can’t afford to let that shit cloud my head for too long.
All eyes dart my way and the buzz of conversation drops for a split second before picking back up. Club members are spread out around the room, already halfway through breakfast, plates piled high with eggs, sausage, and the usual greasy spread. The scent of sizzling bacon and fresh coffee fills the air, so thick I can almost taste it, but the only thing I can focus on is Lacey.
Lacey’s sitting at the end of the table, looking as sexy as ever. Her long, sun-kissed hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, a few stray curls falling around her face. She’s got a coffee mug in her hand, her fingers wrapped around the handle like a vise and a sour expression on her face that makes my gut twist. She’s pissed and she has every right to be.
The faint clink of silverware against ceramic mingles with the chatter that’s coming from all directions slicing through thedull throb in my skull. My head’s a damn wreck after last night’s party, the booze still flowing through my system. I nearly drank myself into a coma to keep myself from dragging Lacey off the dance floor and into my bed. Even after the party winded down and she locked herself in her room, I kept slamming them back like I could drown her out of my system. I grumble under my breath remembering how weak I was. How weak she makes me.
I hate myself for it. I hate her for making me feel like this. I take a slow breath, grounding myself. I’m the damn President of the Royal Fucking Bastards. I am not weak, and I sure as hell won’t let a woman, no matter how perfect her sweet pussy is, deter me from the job I have to do. And that’s to keep them all safe.
A fact I almost forgot last night when I found myself outside her room, my hand clenched around the doorknob. If it hadn’t been locked, this morning would be a whole different kind of hell.
“You look like you need this.” Marianna hands me a coffee and moves on, tidying empty dishes without waiting for a reply.
I would’ve said thank you if she gave me the chance. Hell, who am I kidding? I’m a fucking prick when I get like this, and they all damn well know it.
The strong, bitter taste of black coffee smacks me awake a little, but not enough to dull the frustration gnawing at me.
I loathe the fact that Ricci’s presence has gotten under my skin and I hate that I can’t let myself be what Lacey needs me to be. There’s too much fucking chaos around us. My club, Ricci’s bullshit, the casino, now Emery’s shelter, the constant pressure of being the damn president of the RBMC. Some days it’s all too much. I can't drag Lacey into it. I won’t. Not when my past with Ricci could put her at risk. Fuck it could put them all at risk.
I should tell them the truth before all hell breaks loose.
As I make my way to the table, my eyes flicker to Surge. He’s sprawled in a chair, his arm around Emery like he couldn’t care less who’s watching. He has that familiar look in his eyes that’s easy for old friends to recognize. The one that’s sizing me up, like he knows I’m not in the mood for bullshit, and yet he’s about to dish it out anyway.
Smug bastard doesn’t even hide the smirk on his face.“You look like hell, Prez,”
