Chapter Four #2
So, she did. They chatted a little. He filled her in on some shenanigans from home, and she talked about her job at the pet grooming salon, but most of the meal was quiet. Saint seemed to realize she had a lot to process and let her do so without his two cents, which she greatly appreciated.
As she listened to him describe the clubhouse, the mountains, and Copper snarling about some new bikers in the area, a strange swell of emotion rose in her chest. She missed home, missed the noise and laughter, her mom’s hugs, and her dad’s gruff affection.
Excitement tugged at her. She was really going back, and she was more than ready.
Right on top of it sat fear. Fear of the questions. Fear of their judgment when they eventually learned what she’d allowed to happen. Fear that she wasn’t the Beth they remembered anymore, but a beaten-down version they’d no longer be proud of.
By the time they finished eating, her energy had bottomed out, and an all-consuming heaviness settled over her. Whether she was tired or just ready to turn her brain off didn’t matter. She wanted nothing more than to crawl under the scratchy covers and pass out.
Would Saint care if she turned in early? Jason always got mad when she went to bed before him, claiming it meant she didn’t want to be around him. He was a night owl, whereas she preferred mornings, and more than one fight had begun over her inability to stay up as late as he did.
You say you love me, Beth. If you really loved me, you’d want to spend some fucking time with me.
Ugh, she hated that statement because it always preceded a horrible mood and either a lengthy silent treatment or Jason’s screaming. Opposite ends of the reaction spectrum, but equally awful.
“You wanna tell me what’s on your mind?” Saint asked after a long stretch of silence.
“Huh?” Her cheeks heated. This guy would think she was the biggest space cadet if she kept zoning out.
“You look like you got something to say. What’s up?”
“Oh…well, I was just thinking that I’m, uh, pretty tired.”
He tilted his head and studied her with those dark, intense eyes. Her face warmed. Being the focus of such robust scrutiny was unnerving. “I imagine you would be pretty fucking whipped. Today was shit for you.”
A harsh laugh burst from her gut. “Yeah, you could say that,” she said as she touched her bruised neck without thinking.
His eyes narrowed as his gaze darkened. “All right, you ready to call it a day then?”
“Oh.” She blinked. “Only if you are. I don’t want to mess with your plans any more than I already have. I’m good to stay up as long as you want.”
Grunting, Saint began to clear the table. “Babe, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, you are my plan. I came here to make sure you’re okay and find out why you’re ghosting your mom. But even if I wasn’t here for that, if you’re tired, you sleep.” He shrugged. “Simple as that.”
“Are you sure?” God, she hated the meek insecurity in her voice.
He paused in his task to give her his full attention.
“Seeing as how we’re gonna be spending a lot of time together over the next two days, I’m gonna tell you a little something about me.
I’m nothing like that weak, pathetic fucker you were dating.
I don’t need to beat on or scream at a woman to feel like a goddamn man. ”
His eyes burned, nostrils flaring as he spoke with ferocity and heart. Beth’s breath caught.
He tapped a hand on his chest. “You need something, you tell me, and you’ll get it.
I piss you off, tell me. I’m being a dick, tell me.
I will not lay a hand on you in anger now or ever.
I saw way too much of that shit growing up, and it fucking sickens me.
You can get mad, freak out, break down, or annoy the fuck outta me, and you will remain safe. I am not that man. Get me?”
Her eyes widened as she nodded. The words sank beneath her skin, piercing her core, but they didn’t magically erase the tension in her muscles.
It was going to take time. More than a day, more than a road trip.
For the first time, she understood that on a bone-deep level. “I got you,” she whispered.
He nodded once. “Good. Now, I’m gonna take a quick shower to wash the road off me, and you get comfy.” His lips quirked. “Or as comfy as you can be in this shit-ass motel.”
Smiling, she glanced around. “What? You too good for smoke-stained yellow walls? Didn’t know the club had gotten so bougie since I’ve been gone.”
Saint snorted. “You really are a brat, aren’t you?”
She just grinned.
After rolling his eyes, he set their takeout bag, now full of trash, in the center of the table, then pushed it back in the corner of the room. “I’ll be quiet, promise.” He stopped in front of her on his way to the bathroom. “Sleep well, Beth.”
He stood close enough that she could feel the warmth wafting off him and smell the familiar and comforting leather scent of his cut.
But there was an added layer that had her fighting not to squirm.
His cologne mixed with the leather gave him an erotic and intoxicating aroma she could have inhaled all day.
“Um, thanks. You too. I mean, have a good shower or… whatever.”
Oh my God, kill me now.
Saint winked, then grabbed his duffel and headed into the bathroom as she sat there stewing in her own awkwardness.
The snick of the locking door shot her into action. She dug through her bag, then scrambled to get changed into her sleep clothes before he could walk back out. Hopefully, he’d take a while, and she’d be long asleep before he emerged.
As soon as she had her T-shirt and sleep shorts on, she dove beneath the covers. Screw brushing her teeth. She had excellent dental hygiene. Missing one night wouldn’t kill her. All she wanted was to sleep and wake to a brand-new day.
But her body and mind had other ideas. Despite extreme exhaustion, she lay in the bed, eyes wide open, staring into the darkened hotel room. All of a sudden, she became intensely aware of the fact that Saint was showering on the other side of the wall at her back.
Naked.
With warm water running over all that tattooed skin.
With a groan, she flopped to her back. “Go. To. Sleep,” she whispered.
Her brief pep talk didn’t work. She rolled onto her side again, with her back to the wall, which did nothing to help.
All of her senses went on high alert, listening for every sound, inhaling to catch the scent of his body wash through the door, and trying to see out the back of her head and through a wall into the shower.
After a few moments, the shower shut off. Beth sucked in a breath, keeping it in her lungs as she strained to hear what was happening. Was he shaving? Brushing his teeth? Staring at himself in the mirror?
No more than sixty seconds passed before the door opened and steam floated into the room. Saint killed the light immediately, then strode into the room.
She froze.
Did he think she was asleep?
Should she pretend to be?
By now, her vision had adjusted to the dark, and she zeroed in on his form as he strode across the room to his empty bed.
Holy shit.
He was bare-chested, muscles and tattoos on full display, with nothing but shorts riding low on his hips. Muscles rippled up his stomach, and his hairless chest looked firm and lickable. Every inch of him screamed power, heat, and trouble she had no business wanting.
She squeezed her eyes shut, but it was too late. The image burned itself into her memory. It would be all she saw every time she closed her eyes for the foreseeable future. An untouchable torture she’d have to endure all night long while she breathed slowly and evenly, wishing to be asleep.
At least it was a hundred times better than the memory of Jason’s hand around her throat.