Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Cassie
Rarely, rarely do I feel like I should have stayed in for the night. I'm pro girls’ night every night. Always down to shake my ass and do shots with my friends. I've slowed down in the last few years, but I still enjoy a night out.
Not tonight.
The fact that I can't stop thinking about Maddox lately should have clued me into the fact that I needed some sleep. Sadly, I thought it meant I needed to go have some fun and inebriate myself.
Dumb.
I didn't want to think anymore. I'm sick of wondering how I can get his attention and keep it.
He's making me do the one thing I've declared I would never do: question my worth because of a man. So, like the boss ass bitch I am, I decided the best way to get over him was to get under someone else.
That plan lasted all of four fucking seconds before the guy was dragged away by his friend. I rolled my eyes at the shock on his face because it's likely he gave his buddies a signal to get him out of the situation.
I came on strong, but that was only because I felt if I did it fast the sick feeling in my belly would go away. It didn't. Now my eyes burn and my stomach twists in retaliation. Nobody should feel sadness or guilt while Miley Cyrus blasts through the speakers.
Add being pissed off to my list of feelings because I don't even want to fucking dance now.
Why should I feel guilty for just thinking about sleeping with someone else, when it's more than likely Maddox is sticking his dick in all his club girls? He's the president, he can have any pussy he wants whenever he wants it.
"Cass, you need to calm down. I can practically see the smoke coming out of your ears."
Allowing Violet to drag me through the club, I try to shove Maddox from my mind. He's probably balls deep in another woman, and I can't get a guy to even dance with me.
Violet takes us to her husband and a bodyguard who is none other than a member of the motorcycle club I'd love nothing more than to join. I ignore their conversation about going home. I should be listening because I need a ride, but I'm so stuck in my head.
"Let's go, hun," Violet murmurs and pulls me outside.
I snap out of my thoughts when she stops me beside an orange and black Harley. Giddiness swamps me as she tells me Bash is taking me home. Fuck yes!
We say our goodnights and give each other hugs. I'm so damn excited I barely even feel my friend wrap her arms around me.
"Have you ever ridden?" Bash asks. His voice is deep like the rumble of an engine.
I nod and bounce on my toes. "Yeah. Jake picks me up and brings me to work sometimes."
Bash frowns and uncrosses his arms. He hands me his helmet. "Here, put this on. Violet said she would have taken you home, but you could use the fun."
"Are you alright with this?" I ask, wondering why his face looks tight with unease. "I know having a woman on the back of your bike is a big deal."
"How would you know that?" The suspicion in his tone makes me tense in response.
"Jake," I offer.
I don't want to tell him that I know his president intimately because I'd have to tell him Maddy has never let me on the back of his motorcycle. Then I might cry and have to blame it on the lemon drop shots.
"Right," he grunts. "You work with Jake and Jamie at the tattoo shop."
Why is he looking at me like he's trying to pull all the secrets from my brain? "Yep. Are we going or am I walking home?"
"I have a feeling I'll get my ass beat by more than just Violet's husbands if I allowed you to walk home. Put the helmet on and let's go."
I do as Bash says while he looks around the shadowed parking lot. He isn't acting like we're in danger, more like he's looking for something. "Is something wrong?"
"Just trying to find the answer to my questions." Before I can open my mouth to ask what the hell he's talking about, he pins me with a stare. It's intense even through the visor of the helmet. "Interesting how the guy you were dancing with disappeared huh?"
Cocking my hip, I plant my hands on my waist. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Nothing at all," he replies mysteriously, having heard my muffled voice. "Let's go."
Bash turns away from me and straddles the seat. When he beckons me toward him with a raised eyebrow, I follow suit and swing my leg over.
The roar of his motorcycle coming to life excites me just as much as it makes my gut roil with guilt.
This is how I feel every time Jake drives me around too.
Riding on the back of my gay best friend's motorcycle is purely platonic, yet it feels wrong.
There's only one man I should be holding onto as I fly through the city streets.
Each flash of a street lamp across Bash's body reminds me this isn't what I want. I'm thankful when he doesn't nudge me closer or wrap my arm around his stomach. At least he trusts me enough to just hold on to his shirt.
I know how to ride and almost how to drive. It feels like second nature, but I can't enjoy it.
The ride home takes less than ten minutes, but it feels like hours. I kept worrying that Maddox would see. What would he do? He'd have to care about me riding with Bash, and it's more than likely that he wouldn't give two shits.
"Thanks for bringing me home," I tell Bash and push his helmet at him like it's burning my hands.
He grunts out, "You're welcome." I turn around. Just before he puts it on his head where it belongs, he parts with a warning. "You be careful. Men don't like being taunted and messed with."
Rage shoots up my spine and hellhounds nip at my heels to kick his fucking ass, but Bash is already speeding off down the road. "Motherfucker," I growl and stomp into my apartment building.
The Shadows don’t know about me and Maddox. Bash is probably just making a guess about whatever trouble he thinks I’m in. Or maybe he just thinks I’m trouble.
I don't see anything or smile back at my neighbors. I'm completely stuck on the fact that Bash thinks it's me who's messing with someone.
Maddox is the problem here, not me!
Like a dog, I grumble and pout through my bedtime routine. Unable to stop myself from slamming the cupboards, I work myself up even more. So much so that I don't think I'll be able to get any sleep tonight.
I may be closer to snapping than I thought...