Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
Ayda
Ipulled up to the one parking spot left outside The Hut in the huge Dodge Ram Drew had loaned me and turned to look at the only woman in the place who seemed to have moved on from all the drama of my initial appearance.
Libby and I had become friends of sorts in the last couple of days, especially after the revelation of her and Tate’s budding romance.
After Drew and I arrived back from the diner the night before, I bumped into her and, taking a chance, asked her for some help.
I hadn’t been on a date in years. Even though Drew was mine, it didn’t mean that there wasn’t any pressure.
I wanted to look nice for him. I wanted to make him smile the way he always managed to make me do.
More than anything, I wanted to do him proud, which meant the absolute opposite of the crap I’d tried only days earlier.
Sitting in the truck with cut and fluffed hair, bags full of clothes and makeup, it almost felt superfluous. All those years I’d spent struggling and there I was being frivolous.
“Stop. I can see the buyer’s remorse written all over your face,” Libby said, unbuckling herself and turning in her seat. She’d been bored waiting for me to get my hair done and had a styling done by one of the people in the salon. Her hair was huge.
“He’s worth every penny,” I said confidently, putting both hands on the steering wheel. “It’s just habit. All those years worrying about where every cent went, it’s weird to not have to worry as much. I’m also really nervous.”
“You are? Why? You’re Drew’s old lady. You’ve got nothing to be worried about.”
Leaning farther forward, I dropped my elbows onto the leather and pushed my hands into my hair, before freezing and dropping them under my chin as I stared at the door of The Hut.
It was so hard to put my nerves into words.
Those women had more confidence in their baby fingers than I had in my entire being, and explaining that there were times I felt like I was playing house with a man that was completely out of my league was difficult.
It wasn’t that I was buying into the shit that those other women were feeding me.
I mostly ignored their comments, but my self-esteem could only take so much before the dents started to appear.
It was just a little sooner than I’d expected.
I’d always thought of myself as stronger than all that.
“What aren’t you saying?” Libby asked softly, grabbing the soda we both got at the drive thru. “Scrap that. Let me tell you a little secret the others would hate me for disclosing.”
“Don’t get yourself exiled on my behalf,” I said just as quietly, tilting my head to look at her as she waved her hand in dismissal.
“I don’t care, Ayda. They’d throw me under the bus in a heartbeat if it meant they would be upgraded to one of these guys’ old ladies.
That’s exactly why they hate you. They’re so jealous they’re ready to spit their teeth out.
In their eyes, you didn’t have to work at getting Drew’s attention.
You had it the minute he laid eyes on you. ”
“And that’s my fault?”
“Jealousy doesn’t make people rational. You waltzed into The Hut and you not only bagged the most valuable asset, but you were accepted and every one of those men in there respected you.
You just gotta lift your head up and ignore the shit that they throw your way. It’s all because they want to be you.”
As much as I appreciated her candor and her attempt to make me feel better, I wasn’t sure it was helping.
Not with the bigger picture, anyway. It did make me feel better about the clothes Libby and I had picked out, though.
One night of allowing myself to be a girly kind of girl wasn’t going to kill me.
“Thanks, Lib.”
“Anytime. Now let’s go get your war paint on before you change your mind again.”
“I didn’t change my mind.”
“No? What was that then?” she asked, waving her hand around the cabin as she pulled her bag strap over her shoulder.
“A bump in the road.”
“Big ass bump.”
“I’m not that easily swayed, honey. I would fight tooth and nail for that man. I’m just not confident I deserve him.”
Libby mumbled something I didn’t quite catch and flashed me a smile as she pulled on the handle and hopped out of the door.
If it had been any of the other whores, I would have assumed they were agreeing with me, but there was a mischief in her eyes that told me it was the last thing she thought.
In fact, I was pretty sure the wiggle of her eyebrows was saying the exact opposite.
“What’s that?”
“What’s what, sugar?” she asked, spinning in a circle and trying her hardest to hide the amusement.
“That look, sugar,” I said in the same tone. “What did you just say?”
“I said I’m pretty sure he’d disagree considering that smile he was wearing this morning.”
“You,” I said, pointing at her, “are just like Deeks. You’re too intuitive and you see too much.”
“That man gossips like those old hens in the salon, Ayda. A girl picks a few things up listening to old men who don’t realize they’re there.”
“You’re a dangerous woman.”
Libby shrugged and pushed the door closed, tipping her head in the direction of The Hut, kick-starting me into grabbing the bags and following her lead.
We both got stares as we walked through the bar area.
Drew was nowhere in sight, but there was an abundance of whores lounging around with some of the guys, their eyes like lasers on the two of us.
I could feel every one of their gazes following us until we were out of sight in the corridor, which was exactly when Libby started singing Renegade and walking with a renewed bounce to her step.
“Seems like you’re persona non grata.” I sighed with amusement, opening the door to my room so she could go inside.
“Damn. Who the hell is gonna run around after them now?”
I couldn’t help my small laugh as I pushed my freshly fixed door closed.
She was eighteen, but she was smart and she was fierce.
I couldn’t imagine having that mindset when I was her age, and I actually admired her for it.
For the first time since I’d caught them in Tate’s room together, I was really starting to understand what he saw in her.
If she kept him on his toes and in school then I would never so much as complain about them sharing a room.
I’d never really had many female friends growing up.
I had my best friend, but other than that, high school had pretty much been exactly like The Hut.
It was an order of hierarchy. I had acquaintances, of course.
The girls in the drill team and I got along because we had to.
There was a level of sisterhood there, but it wasn’t as though we spent much time together outside of school or practice hours.
There were the rest of the girls in my grade, who I would exchange pleasantries with, but a true, honest to God friend? I only had one of them that was a girl.
That made Libby something of an anomaly, but to my surprise, she was more knowledgeable than any of my friends had ever been about fashion.
Most of them had been happy to go to the nearest store and grab a pair of Rockies.
I think I spent half of my teenage years laid flat on my back trying to zip them up. Libby, however, went a step further.
As I stood staring at myself in the mirror, tipping my head from side to side in wonder, I realized exactly what I’d been missing out on.
The jeans I was wearing could have been a second skin.
They hugged every curve I owned and made them more voluptuous in a way that was complimentary.
The sweater she’d picked out for me was much the same, the v-neck revealing the lacy, push-up secret under it when I leaned forward just so, the bottom of it clinging to my hips and ass.
Then there were the heels. I’d never really been one for wearing heels in the past. Jacob’s idea of a date night was pulling me out into an old field or hayloft so he could get to third base.
I was older and wiser, it was true, but I was still fully prepared to make Drew work for dessert.
Being a little closer to his height was just one of those added bonuses I hadn’t put much thought into before.
“Damn. You should do this more often, Ayda.”
“Yeah?” I asked, spinning on the balls of the heels and squeaking at my ass prominently on display, accentuated by the nude pumps I was wearing. I was suddenly feeling nervous for a whole different reason. The last thing I needed was Drew to pull some guy’s arms off and beat him with them.
“You’re missing something.”
“Oh, I don’t need jewelry,” I said, tugging on the hem of the sweater when she turned her back on me, only to pull it back up when I saw lace peeking out over the top of it.
“It’s not jewelry,” she said, grabbing the one bag she’d come home with. “I bought this as a peace offering between us, and a thank you of sorts for being so understanding about Tate and me.”
She thrust the ball of leather at me and pulled her hands behind her back, her hips swinging from side to side, making her look her age for once.
Shaking the thing out, I almost squealed in excitement.
It was the vintage 80’s leather jacket I’d been admiring in the thrift shop next to the salon.
I hadn’t thought anything of it when I’d finally been called by the stylist, but it had been gone when we headed back to the car, and now I knew why.
“Remind me to never cross you.” I laughed, pulling her into a hug. “You’re smart and stealthy. I didn’t even see you leave the salon.”
“I didn’t really have to pee. They have a back door,” she replied, her voice muffled from my hair.
“I can’t thank you enough.” I pushed my arm in one side and swung it around my back, tugging down on the front and spinning back to the mirror. “How does it look?”
“Gorgeous.”
All of the self-consciousness I’d been feeling suddenly bled away as I looked at myself.
It wasn’t like I dressed like that every day, and as long as it had been since I’d gone out on a date, Libby was right about one thing: this was Drew.
He loved me, and no matter where we went or what we did, it was with him.
That was what I had to focus on. The rest I could deal with in the morning.
“What time is it?”
“Seven fifty—” She put up one finger, her breath firmly held. “Nine.”
I gave her a grin and checked the door in the mirror, realizing I had no idea where I was supposed to meet him.
With one last hug to Libby, I sucked in as much oxygen as I could manage and headed to the door.
It took everything in me to step out and head down to the bar, the heels marking every step I took with a small clip.
When I finally made it out there, I found almost every guy in the place congregated at the bar, most of them hiding behind their beers as their eyes widened and followed my progress across the room.
The looks they were giving me only succeeded in making me more nervous.
I was practically hyperventilating by the time I reached the door. All the eyes of the MC were burning holes into my back as I forced myself to focus on balancing with the heels, my hands tugging the bottom of the leather like a nervous twitch.
All of that was forgotten as soon as I walked outside. The chatter started the moment it slipped back into the frame, but my eyes were on the man that stood at the base of the porch steps, his handsome face angled up at me, his eyes bright as they drank me in.
He looked amazing. The white shirt he had on under his cut was made for him. Where my sweater hugged my curves, his shirt clung to his muscles. Not that I could blame it. I would have been clinging to him if I was that close, too.
As my eyes met his, his smile grew to the one that made my stomach tighten in want while his fingers twisted the most perfect long-stemmed rose I’d ever seen in my life. There were a thousand thoughts running through my mind as I memorized the image, but only one stuck out.
I was in so much trouble that night.