Chapter 2 #2
“No.” She holds up a hand. “I get it. Your first instinct when you see me is to be pissed I’m here. Message received.”
“That’s not—“
“I’ve got customers.”
She disappears inside, leaving me standing in the alley with Devil’s knowing look burning into my back.
“Fix it,” he says simply, then heads back inside.
I run my hands through my hair, frustrated. She doesn’t understand. How could she? She doesn’t know about the threats, the missing people, the real danger Summit poses.
When I finally go back inside, she’s behind the bar, purposely not looking at me. The hurt in her posture is obvious, and I hate that I put it there.
“Kya.”
“What can I get you?” Her tone is professionally cold.
I blow our a breath. “I’m sorry for being an ass. That’s not about you. It’s about Devil being an ass. Can we start over?”
She arches an eyebrow, staying silent.
I pull a fifty out of my wallet and stuff it in the tip jar. “How about now?”
She stares at me for a beat, a reluctant smile pulling at her lips. “Maybe. What do you want to drink?”
“Just give me a bottle of whatever your most expensive beer is.”
“Good choice. Money makes forgiving you a little easier.” She reaches down and pulls a foreign beer from one of the fridges, popping the lid before sliding it across the bar.
“Let me start again. How long you been back in town?” I ask, because I need to know how long I’ve been oblivious to the fact that Emma’s little friend grew up into… this.
“About a week.”
A week. She’s been here a week, and this is the first I’m hearing about it. In a town this size, that’s practically impossible unless someone’s been deliberately keeping it quiet.
“My mom died,” she says suddenly, like she can read the question in my eyes. “Car accident. I had to come back to deal with things.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. “Shit. Kya, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“There’s no reason you would have.” She shrugs, but there’s pain hiding behind the casual gesture. “She left me some money. And this opportunity came up.”
“So you decided to buy a bar?”
“It’s a good opportunity. Devil made me an offer, and… here we are.”
Here we are, indeed. Emma’s best friend is back, she owns the bar, and I spent five minutes checking out her ass like some kind of pervert. This day just keeps getting better.
I glance over my shoulder to see Devil lurking in the hall. The bastard. He knows how in the shit the town is right now and he still decided to sell to Kya.
A muscle leaps in my jaw as I turn back to her. I’ll be having further words with him later.
Before I can figure out what to say to that, the door opens and Cash walks in, followed by Mack and Bones. They’re laughing about something and bringing the cold night air with them. Their voices carry across the room, and I see Kya tense slightly, her eyes tracking their movement.
They haven’t noticed me yet, but they will soon enough. And when they do, they’re going to want introductions to the new owner. They’re going to look at her the way I just looked at her, and for some reason that makes something dark and possessive twist in my gut.
Which is fucked up on about seventeen different levels.
“I should go,” I say, straightening.
“You don’t have to—”
“Yeah, I do.” I drop a twenty on the bar, way too much for one beer, but my hands are apparently not taking orders from my brain right now.
She nods like she understands, but how could she? She doesn’t know about club business, or about the careful lines I have to walk as enforcer. She doesn’t know that I’m supposed to be the one who keeps everyone in line, not the one who gets thrown off balance by seeing an old friend.
An old friend who looks nothing like the girl I used to know. Now? She’s back, grown up, and way too sexy for my peace of mind. And, if I’m honest, a friend who’s definitely going to be starring in my X-rated fantasies.
“Lee.” My name stops me halfway to the door. When I turn back, she’s watching me with an expression I can’t read. “It’s good to see you.”
The words are simple, but they hit me harder than they should. Because despite the confusion, it is good to see her too.
Too good.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice rougher than I intended. “You too, kid.”
The word kid comes out automatically, and the second it’s out, I flinch.
I hate being called that. Every time someone does, it’s like they’re erasing everything I’d been through.
And even as I say it, I know it doesn’t fit.
In no way shape or form is Kya a kid. She hasn’t been a kid for a long time.
I watch as her expression cools, her smile disappearing. She takes a small step back, and I can feel the apology forming on the tip of my tongue.
Fuck.
I need to get the hell out of here before I do something stupid.
I push through the door and back into the cold night air. I settle on my ride, grateful when the engine roars to life, drowning out the music drifting from the bar and the sound of my own thoughts spinning in circles.
Kya Sullivan is back.
Kya Sullivan owns Devil’s Bar.
Kya Sullivan looks like fucking sin.
Don’t go there, Armstrong.
I rev the engine and tear out of the parking lot, but I can’t outrun the feeling that everything just got a lot more complicated. The careful order I maintain, the rules I enforce, the lines I never cross. It’s all suddenly a lot less clear than it was an hour ago.