71. Chapter 71
He’d been called a lot of things in his life. Loser. A waste. Asshole. Most of it earned, and plenty from Graham’s own mouth. But this was different.
She’s too good for you, man.
There was no rebuttal. Deep down Jase suspected it was true.
Even if it wasn’t, Lindsey was a relationship kind of woman, and he wasn’t the guy who stayed.
He never hurt anyone intentionally, never made promises to any woman who shared his bed.
With Lindsey he didn’t have to explain that there was no future.
She was Graham’s ex-girlfriend, a truth written into the foundation of whatever relationship they formed in the meantime.
He liked her, and despite days on end in each other’s company he wasn’t tired of her.
Yet. That’s as far as it went. If they met under other circumstances, he really would’ve taken her for her first ride and hung around for a few days to give her the time of her life.
Leaving is the only thing you’ve ever been good at.
Jase would’ve put his fist through a wall if he could’ve afforded to fix it.
He blew out of his room, a beast on the prowl.
In the elevator he texted Lindsey and she said she’d meet him in the lobby.
Perfect. He’d get her to the concert then get on with finding much easier prey.
There was still the problem of Declan, who definitely was a problem.
The English prick had texted Lindsey nonstop after she told him she was staying in ’Avasu for the night.
It was an odd thing watching her smile while Jase’s own disgust rose, bitter as bile in the back of his throat with the chime of each new message.
Odd because it bothered him a little too much. He was responsible for her now, as far as the trip went, and dickhead’s return threatened his ability to take care of her.
But that wasn’t it.
That wasn’t only it.
If anything had ever been urgent, it was the need to go absolutely buck wild with the first willing woman to cross his path. Jase expected to find one at the concert. Instead, he spotted her across the lobby tied up in a black leather bow.
Her back was to him. The legs coming out of the bottom of a painted-on skirt promised to quell every primal urge threatening to tear him apart. He had to have her, whoever she was. He could practically feel his hands curving around her ass, lifting her into his lap.
Where r u? he texted Lindsey, on his way to get a closer look at those stems.
Lobby.
Jase scanned the space, peering around the corner at the hotel bar packed with suits, and the bank of computers opposite the front desk, then back to the fox in leather who turned to face him.
No.
It couldn’t be Lindsey. He refused to believe it.
At the same time, he didn’t know how he didn’t recognize those legs or that long curly hair. It could only be her.
A part of Jase died just then, and another part roared to fucking life.
Clearly unaccustomed to showing skin, Lindsey crossed her arms to cover the bare curve of her breasts down the center of a leather top about to pop.
“It’s a little much, right?”
Jase was speechless, which didn’t happen often. A sound like a laugh fell out of his mouth.
“It’s—”
Un-fucking-real.
“It’s not me,” Lindsey said, rubbing the gap between the shirt and the skirt.
“It’s hot,” he grunted.
This hitched her confidence enough to drop her arms and expose the bare midriff she was trying to hide.
“Billy gave it to me. I never thought I’d wear it. Should I go change?”
“No. You look like a Demon.”
Except a Demon wouldn’t blush. If she walked back into their den in this outfit, she’d own the place.
“I don’t know how she rode a bike in this skirt,” Lindsey said.
“I have a few ideas about that, if you’re interested.”