Chapter 22
SUNDAY
Carla rolls her eyes as I pocket my phone.
“Razor, I’m guessing.”
“You guessed right.”
She blows out a breath.
“When are you gonna make it official with that man?”
A little of the sunshine fades from my day because, to be honest, I was wondering the same thing.
Instead, I force a bright smile on my face and wink. “I’ve got to keep him on his toes.”
I’m convincing no one. Carla has walked this walk a lot longer than me, and she leans against the bar and fixes me with a stern frown.
“You make it easy for him to avoid commitment.”
“Who says I want to commit?”
“For fuck’s sake, Sunday. It’s obvious how mad you are for one another. It’s seriously pissing off the other guys because Razor won’t make it official and you won’t even look at them when he’s around.”
“We don’t need a label.”
I’m aware I’m just convincing myself of that.
Of course, I want one. To be Razor’s official girl with none of the uncertainty that surrounds our relationship.
It’s difficult though; he keeps his emotions in check and his history guarded under lock and key in his mind.
He is an impenetrable mountain that I doubt I will ever conquer, but I’m happy with what we have, despite the fact there is no official label on it.
Are you sure about that?
That inner voice mocks me, and it’s becoming louder the longer the days pass.
I do want more, of course I do, but it’s not up to me and it probably never will be.
Carla sighs. “I’m worried about you, Sunday.”
“Me?”
I’m surprised, and she nods, chewing her lip as if she has news I won’t like hearing.
“What is it?”
I’m more than afraid right now, and she sighs.
“Listen, I’ve been here a while now, and it’s unusual to meet two people so obviously into one another without some form of progression. There are many women here who would bite your arm off to be where you are now. Exclusive with one Reaper and having his undivided attention.”
“But I thought you all loved playing the field.”
I’m a little shocked by her admission, and she shakes her head. “Think about it, honey. We are all here for a reason. Life threw shit bricks at us and did irreparable damage. Sure, it’s great to be held in strong arms and desired by men like these who are just as lost as we are.”
She makes a valid point because I witness the pain behind Razor’s eyes he attempts to blink away and yet he won’t let me in to help him with that.
Carla continues. “We help them, they help us, and together we kind of pretend the past never happened. The Reapers do what they do, and the ghosts hang on with the rest of their demons, and I wonder if some day the load will be too great. Razor appears to be shifting many demons inside him, and yet won’t share the load.
I really believe you could help each other out, and if he wasn’t so stubborn, he would realize that. ”
I’m done pretending because Carla’s words have hit home, and I sigh heavily.
“How can I get through to him? He keeps the barriers up.”
“Then duck under them if you must, but find a way.”
She shakes her head. “Men like Razor see life in black and white. They like routine. Everything has its place and does not move from that. Perhaps you should challenge that. Not be so available, flirt with another guy, shake the foundations a little to test his commitment to you.”
My heart falls. “I couldn’t do that, Carla. I would never hurt him like that.”
“But he’s hurting you, Sunday. That is not okay. You deserve better.”
“I do.”
My heart is heavy because, no matter how much I try to ignore it, his coldness is hurting me. I desire more from him, but I’m scared he doesn’t see it in the same way and that by challenging the situation will change everything.
She smiles, her kind expression causing a chink in my armor, and as she heads my way, she pulls me in for a hug.
“Don’t be afraid to go after what you want, honey. Sometimes you must spell it out in single letters for it to register in their emotionless brains.”
She chuckles as she squeezes me hard. “Men are very different from us. They are happy if their dicks are and yet women connect on a more emotional level and you are selling yourself short if you play by his rules. Be a strong woman because a Reaper will respect that. Go and get your man and force him to face the situation that everyone here can see as plain as day, other than the two of you it seems.”
A movement by the door distracts us, and my heart beats a little faster when Ryder’s wife, Ashton, walks into the bar with Bonnie, Ryder’s second in command, Snake’s wife.
Their easy smiles are always so welcoming, and Ashton grins.
“Hey girls. How are you?”
I’ve met Ashton and Bonnie several times.
When I first got here, and in the bar most evenings.
I have never seen two women more treasured by their husbands.
They worship them and the women are obsessed with their men.
They set the bar incredibly high, and it’s a goal I wish like hell I could achieve with Razor.
Carla jerks her head toward me.
“I’m trying to talk sense into Sunday.”
Bonnie rolls her eyes. “Let me guess, she has a leather-wearing problem that could sure use a shave.”
Ashton glances at me with sympathy, and I sigh inside.
“You’ll crack the code. I have every faith in you.”
She smiles and I nod miserably. “At least one of us does, then.”
Bonnie sighs in annoyance. “What is it with these guys? Do they wear blinkers that I’m unaware of?”
Ashton groans. “They are difficult, I’ll give you that. But everyone can see how much Razor likes you, honey. He watches you when you work the bar and warns the other guys off with a cold glare and his overbearing presence.”
“Yeah, it’s as if he has surrounded you with tape reading, Property of Razor, do not approach if you value your life.”
Bonnie is so funny, and we all giggle, the tense atmosphere lightening at her words.
“I’ve tried, but getting two words from him is difficult enough. I don’t stand a chance.”
“You’ll get there, honey. I believe in you.”
Ashton’s soft smile warms my heart, and I can tell why everyone loves her so much.
I want what she has. We all do because Ryder King is besotted with his wife and, by all accounts, was the moment she walked through those doors with her brother.
Unlike Razor, though, he didn’t hang around, and they were married two hours later.
I am several months down the line and no further forward, and that is a huge problem because it tells me only one thing.
Razor doesn’t look at me in the same way, and I can’t even begin to process what that means for my heart.