Chapter 15
Elizabeth
We’re still keeping us quiet from everyone, which is good, and what we both want, but it’s difficult.
I really need to get some outside perspective on what’s going on between us, especially with Angel’s birthday coming up.
I want to ask Donovan what type of present I should get, should I arrange a party or get-together, or should I let the club sort it?
I’m getting all ‘in my head’ about it; if I buy him a silly present, he might not think I’ve put enough thought into it, but if I go too thoughtful, is that saying our relationship is more than it is?
All I know is that I don’t want to fuck it up .
The doors to the diner open and I’m expecting a customer, so it’s a nice surprise to see Angel walk in, looking as handsome as ever—a dark, plaid, button-up shirt under his cut, and his usual black jeans and boots.
“Hey beautiful,” he says, smiling and coming to take a seat at the bar.
“Hey you.” I smile back before leaning over the bar and kissing him. “What are you doing here so early, it’s only 1 a.m.”
“I know, I couldn’t sleep, and you said Wednesdays are always quiet so figured I’d come and keep you company. That okay?”
“Of course, you want a coffee or anything?”
“Sure, let’s make it a decaf though yeah, I don’t wanna keep you awake all night, you’ve got morning classes.”
“Good point,” I say, pouring the coffee into a mug and passing it to him. “I was just thinking about you actually.”
“Oh yeah?” he smirks, “Good stuff I hope.”
“I mean, I’d say way better than good…” I reach my hand out and run it over his shirt. “Mmm, definitely way better than good. But seriously though, I was actually thinking about your birthday.”
“How did you know it’s my birthday soon?”
“I have my sources, confidential of course. So, what do you usually do for your birthday?”
“Nothing much, usually just hang out at the club,” he says, but I can tell he wants to say more.
“And is that what you want to do this year?”
“Um… I was thinking about doing something different.” He looks at me nervously. “Hopefully something with you?”
I don’t bother trying to hide the smile on my face.
“I would love to spend your birthday with you. What did you have in mind? You want me to arrange something? ”
“Nah, I’ve got it covered, I was just building up to asking you.”
“But it’s your birthday, I should be treating you.”
“Yeah but, I had an idea of what I want to do so I arranged it. I just want you with me, Elizabeth.”
I don’t know how to respond to that, so I lean over and kiss him, until Brian coughs loudly in our direction through the kitchen hatch.
“Fucking pendejo,” Angel whispers.
“Shh,” I giggle, before moving away from the counter and going back to sorting cutlery.
It wasn’t obvious from the parking lot, but as soon as we get within a few feet of my front door it’s clear it’s been kicked in. Splintered wood surrounds the lock and pieces of the frame stick out at odd angles.
“Get behind me,” Angel says, putting his arm out in front of me.
“It’s fine…” I try to brush it off, embarrassed that he’s seeing this. “I’m sure they’ve left, come on.”
Stepping around him, I try to reach for the door, but he grabs my wrist.
“Elizabeth, are you crazy?”
I turn, ready to take charge; this isn’t the first time this has happened, and it won’t be the last, but the worried look on his face stops me.
Instead, I gesture to the door and fall in behind him.
He pushes it open with one hand and shines the flashlight from his phone into the doorway, as the light moves around the room, it’s clearly empty of people.
He steps inside and switches on the main light .
“Shit,” he says under his breath.
“Can I come in now?” I ask, just wanting to get on and deal with the fallout.
“Yeah, they’ve gone. They’ve messed up all your stuff though, I’m sorry.”
I sigh. “I know, this happens sometimes, when they see there’s nothing valuable, they leave.”
“What?” he says, “Are you telling me this has happened before?”
“Yeah, that’s why I used to go and stay with Donovan sometimes, until my door could get fixed.”
His expression is one of pure fury and he’s clearly lost for words.
I don’t know what else to say, so I pick up the suitcase, giving it a quick check over before roughly folding my clothes and placing them inside.
I purposely don’t look at him while he paces around the space, but out of the corner of my eye I see him clenching and unclenching his fists.
“Elizabeth,” his voice is firm as he comes to a stop.
“What?” I ask, I’ve never seen him this angry before and it’s kind of scary.
He pauses, as though rethinking what he was going to say, before sighing, “We can’t take the suitcase on my bike, so fit what you can in your backpack, and I’ll come back for the rest of your stuff tomorrow.”
“The door should be fixed tomorrow, so I only need stuff for a day.”
“No fucking way. There is no way you’re ever coming back here again. Tomorrow, we’re getting you out of your contract and you’re moving into the clubhouse.”
“The clubhouse?”
“Yeah, I know we’re not ready for people to know about us yet, so you can have your own room, El Jefe won’t mind. But you’re not coming back here. ”
I don’t answer him straight away. I hate this apartment, but it’s mine, I pay for it with the money I earn.
I’ve managed to survive here, not even just survive, thrive.
I’m independent, I work, I study, things I could never have thought possible after my parents passed away.
I’m about to say no, tell him that I can’t, but he takes my hand in his and turns me to face him.
“Elizabeth… please?”
His eyes plead with me, and I know I can’t refuse him.
I nod. “Okay, thank you.”
He pulls me into his arms and holds me for what feels like an age. And even though it’s almost too quiet for me to hear, he whispers, “I can’t bear the thought of anything bad happening to you.”
We arrive at the clubhouse and it’s strange seeing it in the early hours of the morning, dark and empty, knowing everyone is either asleep or returned to their own homes. I follow Angel up the stairs, not knowing where I’m going as I’ve never been up here before.
“I don’t know which rooms are free,” he whispers, “so you’ll have to stay with me tonight; but we’ll get you your own room tomorrow.”
I nod and continue to follow him to the end of the hall, where he unlocks the door to the last room before ushering me inside.
The room smells of him, the earthy scent of the leather, accompanied by whiskey; it’s comforting.
He enters behind me and switches on the main light.
As far as decor goes, it’s pretty sparse; a double bed faces me with a small table either side.
A chest of drawers, wardrobe and comfy chair are along one wall, and a door to what I assume is the bathroom is on the other side.
It’s all painted a gray tone and there are no pictures or anything, just a window with a blind above the bed.
I take a few steps in and place my backpack on the bed before turning around to say something, but I stop in shock…
Diablo
“I don’t know which rooms are free,” I whisper, “so you’ll have to stay with me tonight, but we’ll get you your own room tomorrow.”
Sleeping in a separate room from Elizabeth is the last thing I want to do, but we agreed to keep us a secret.
I don’t really want to be keeping us quiet anymore, I want to tell everyone, but she’ll be safer if we stay quiet for now.
The last thing I need is for Frank to find out, it will just give him more ammunition against me.
When it comes to her safety though, I want to kick myself for letting her stay at Midtown Apartments for so long. Granted, she’s barely been there alone in the last month, but still, the thought of something happening to her is too much to bear.
I unlock my door and usher her inside, before stepping in and switching on the light.
I know my room isn’t much, I haven’t made it anywhere near as comfortable as she made her apartment, but I hope she’ll be happy here until we figure out something more permanent.
Shit, if the guys could hear my thoughts right now, thinking about a permanent living situation with a girl, they’d never believe it.
I know it’s only been six weeks, but that doesn’t matter, this is it, I know it is .
I go to ask her if the room is okay, but she’s staring at the wall behind me in shock.
“The painting…” she says.
“I forgot that was here, it was meant to be a surprise,” I say.
“What?”
“You said it was your favorite when we were at the gallery, I remember you talking to the artist about it.”
She doesn’t say anything, so I continue trying to explain.
“You told Miguel you couldn’t afford it, so I bought it for you, and you said it wouldn’t be safe in your apartment, which, obviously after tonight you were right, luckily I had it delivered here.”
“You bought this for me?” she asks.
“Yeah, after I heard you talking to Guadalupe I went and spoke to her and asked her if I could buy it for you. I was thinking of giving it to you when it’s your birthday.”
“Angel…” She slowly lowers herself to the bed, her eyes glued to the painting. “This is too much, I know how expensive these pieces were, I can’t accept this.”
I kneel in front of her. “But it made you so happy, the way you looked at it, I wanted you to have it. Guadalupe did too, she liked you.”
Her head falls in her hands, and her body starts to shake.
“Fuck,” she mumbles.
“Are you okay?”
She lowers her hands slightly. “I just wasn’t expecting to cry in front of you tonight.”
“Cry? Are you upset; I meant it as a nice thing.”
She takes my face in her hands and rests her forehead against mine .
“Don’t worry, these are happy tears. It’s just, it’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. Everything you do is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
She kisses me and I lean in, wrapping my arms around her waist. Even though it’s awkward, we manage to fumble our way up the bed until we’re lying down, my legs resting between hers as I hold myself over her.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“You’re welcome, princess.”
I kiss along her jaw and down her throat, but when I reach the neck of her work t-shirt, I’m reminded that it’s still the early hours of Thursday morning, and after everything that’s happened, she still has two more days of college, and a diner shift tonight.
“As much as I’ve dreamed of fucking you in this bed, I know I need to let you get some sleep,” I say, lifting myself up to get undressed.
“Wait,” she says, “with everything that’s happened tonight, I want to be close to you.”
“We can still be close, you know I’ll let you snuggle in all night. I just wanna make sure you get enough sleep.”
“I know, but I need to feel you,” she chuckles, “can we at least have some slow sleepy sex?”
“Slow sleepy sex? Well that’s new.”
She’s reaching her hand into my jeans, and I’m getting hard, the way she’s touching me feels so good.
“Fuck, Elizabeth,” I moan, “we’ll need to be quiet.”
“We will,” she whispers, “we’ll have quiet… slow… sleepy… sex.”
We’re stifling giggles as we remove each other’s clothes.
I settle between her legs and enter her, enjoying a couple of lazy thrusts.
She lifts her legs and wraps them around me, while I continue to move slowly, peppering her face with soft kisses.
She lets out little gasps of sound, every so often whispering my name, which I always reply with my own whisper of, “Elizabeth.”
I lose track of how long we lay there, gently moving against each other, our orgasms aren’t anywhere near as intense as usual, but having slow sleepy sex feels so good neither of us care. It feels amazing just being naked together, before falling asleep in each other’s arms.
The next morning it feels strange to be waking up in my bed; but smelling the vanilla in her hair before I even open my eyes reminds me that she’s here with me. She stretches in my arms and that’s when the alarm on her phone goes off.
“Morning,” I say, pulling her back into me as a little spoon.
“Morning, how did you sleep? Was it nice being in your own bed?”
“It was nice being here with you,” I chuckle, kissing her neck and shoulders.
“Your bed smells like you, I like it.”
“Mmm, but I’m never gonna be able to wash that pillow now because it will smell like your vanilla hair stuff, and I want it to stay like that.”
She laughs. “You need to wash it! I’ll have to be like a cat and sneak in here every now and again and rub my hair all over it for you.”
“Or you could just sleep in here with me,” I say softly, treading carefully in case it’s too much.
I’ve been telling myself that she’ll be safer if we keep us quiet, but what are the chances of Frank actually finding out? I can tell the guys that I don’t want him to know, they’ll understand. I can practically hear the cogs turning in her head as she thinks my words over.
“Can we wait until I next see Donovan?” she asks, “This isn’t the type of thing I want to tell him over the phone, I think it would be better to explain in person.”
“Wait, you mean, you’re ready to tell people about us?”
“Yeah, I think I am. But only after I’ve spoken to Donovan, please?”
“Absolutely,” I say, and I can’t shake the smile from my face as I nuzzle into her neck.