Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Lyric blew out a shaky breath and squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to settle her churning stomach and spinning thoughts.
The kiss with Ash had opened a door. Now she just needed to walk through it. But it would also help if he opened his own door first.
After missing a whole day of appointments yesterday, she couldn’t afford to skip out on any more today so she needed to get to the shop before her first client arrived. For this reason, she stood in front of his apartment super early in the morning.
She knocked again and listened for his footsteps.
She had no idea where he went last night after their kiss but figured he either felt guilty about it or regretted it. Otherwise, why would he skip out on a club party?
She was tempted to call out his name but really didn’t want him to know it was her.
Because then he might not answer it.
And she certainly didn’t want to have this conversation with him downstairs at Heaven’s Angels after she was done with her day. No, she wanted to have it when he wasn’t distracted and they weren’t surrounded with people. Especially nosy people.
“C’mon. C’mon. C’mon. Answer the door, Ash,” she mumbled under her breath after knocking on the door for the third time.
Of course, managing the strip club, he regularly went to bed late. Or early, depending on how one looked at it.
Realistically, he could be still passed out from a long, exhausting night. Gabi once mentioned that the Heaven’s Angels dancers would drive him nuts with their cat fights over petty shit. The previous night could’ve turned out like a pay-per-view wrestling match with him as the referee.
Or…maybe he wasn’t home at all.
She glanced down at the employee parking area behind the strip club. His sled was parked in the lot and so was his truck.
Other possibilities for him not coming to the door could be that he had a “guest.” Or he’d gone home with a woman in her cage instead of his.
Shit. She might be standing there for nothing. But if she left now, she might not have the nerve to come back.
Anyway, she’d prefer to know if he was with a woman. If so, then that kiss didn’t mean as much to him as it did her and she could be fooling herself.
With a sigh, she pressed her forehead and a palm against the cool, painted steel door.
When the door abruptly flung open, she lost her balance and stumbled forward. Luckily, Ash caught her before she tumbled to the ground at his feet.
Once she was upright, her knees wobbled.
Not because she was still unsteady, but because he only wore jeans.
Jeans he hadn’t bothered to zip or button closed.
Not that she hadn’t seen most of his body while filling his skin with ink, but history had proven that the tattoo gun didn’t give him a hard-on.
Unlike the one he sported now.
He released her elbows and stepped back, a frown marring his forehead. “Whataya doin’ here?”
The Viking braids on top of his head were a mess with stray hairs escaping. His voice was more gruff than normal. His deep brown eyes bloodshot. And he smelled a bit like cheap perfume, cigarette smoke, and whiskey.
Actually, more than a bit.
Crinkling her nose and rubbing it didn’t go unnoticed.
“Passed out. Didn’t get a chance to shower yet.” He took a step back.
Whether that was an invitation or not, she took it as one and crossed the threshold into the darker interior. She’d never been inside his apartment before, but he took it over when he began running Heaven’s Angels after the former manager and DAMC member, Moose, died years ago.
Looking around, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to be in it right then, either. It was a disaster.
Unfortunately, that was being kind.
“Umm…that’s some…interesting perfume.” That was one way to ask without actually asking. She didn’t want to come off as jealous, even though she was one-hundred-percent jealous.
He frowned. “Coupla girls were beefin’ last night. Topaz launched her bottle of shitty perfume at Velvet like a fuckin’ grenade. Let’s just say she don’t have good aim.”
“Anyone get hurt?”
“Just some feelin’s.”
Like hers did yesterday when… “You disappeared last night.”
He stared at her for a few seconds, then closed the door. “Yeah.”
“Why?” She heard the lock click behind her. If it had been anyone other than Ash or any of her club brothers, she’d be hightailing it out of there, but it was Ash and she trusted him with her life.
“Had shit to do. You forget I manage the club downstairs?”
“Difficult to forget that, Ash.”
“It bother you?”
Did it? “No.”
Unlike Moose, Ash wasn’t doing the strippers. Ash did not shit where he ate. Again, unlike the former manager, who died from a heart attack in the middle of having sex with one. Rumor had it it was mid-pump.
She could imagine that a morbidly obese man collapsing and crushing her with his—literally—dead weight would be traumatic. After that incident, the dancer quit and was never heard from again.
Lyric hoped she had sought therapy.
“What’re doin’ here?” Ash asked once more, drawing a hand down his stubbled cheek and yawning loudly, not bothering to cover his gaping mouth.
Bikers were allergic to manners.
“We need to reschedule your appointment.”
His eyebrows stitched together. “You always show up on your customer’s doorstep for that?”
“No.”
“Then, what’re doin’ here, Lyric?” he asked yet again.
She needed to stop avoiding the subject and get to it. “I think we need to talk about what happened yesterday.” She shook her head and clarified, “No, I know we need to talk about yesterday.”
“Need coffee,” he grunted and headed over to the counter in his small kitchenette. He asked over his shoulder, “Your birthday?”
She let her eyes roam over the black and gray club colors inked into his expansive back; a blatant reminder of why they were both the way they were. “Not that.”
After he prepped the coffee maker, he stabbed the power button. “Then what?”
Her eyebrows rose. “You don’t remember?”
He pulled a mug from under a mess on the counter—a counter without even an inch of clear space—and turned to stare at her for a few heartbeats. “Remember. That’s the problem.” He tipped his head toward the gurgling coffee maker. “Want some?”
She shook her head. No way was she drinking anything out of one of his mugs when she couldn’t confirm the last time it had been washed. The sweet butts probably didn’t come over to clean his place very often since it wasn’t convenient. Unless they were already there for another reason.
The little green monster raised its ugly head again and clawed at her insides. “Why is it a problem?”
“‘Cause it ain’t smart.”
“That’s what you said yesterday. Then you disappeared.” She tried to keep the hurt from her tone, but she failed.
“Yeah.”
Yeah? Was that all she was going to get from him?
His eyes slowly roamed over her from top to toe. By the time they rose to her face again, they were heated. And so were her insides. “Left ‘cause you’re too temptin’.”
She rolled her lips under so she wouldn’t smile at that confession. Once she had it under control, she asked, “And why is that a problem?”
His jaw shifted and his tone turned a little harsh. “‘Cause you need someone better than me, Lyric. I ain’t it.”
If he thought that was going to scare her away, he was mistaken. “We kissed, Ash. It wasn’t a marriage proposal.”
With a grunt, he turned and pulled the pot from underneath the still-dripping coffee and filled his mug. “Kissin’ leads to other shit.”
She rolled her eyes. “I learned that in Sex Ed.”
He took a sip of the steaming coffee, then peered at her over the brim of the mug. “Sex Ed.”
“Did you skip that class?”
“Didn’t need a fuckin’ class to learn that, woman.”
“No. Just a lesson in baseball.”
Once he gulped down another mouthful of coffee, his eyebrows rose. “Baseball?”
“Yes, you know…bases. First base, second base, third base, home run?”
He shook his head. “Too early for this shit,” he mumbled under his breath.
She grinned. “Please tell me you know that reference.”
“Yeah, baby, know that reference, but haven’t used it in over twenty years. For a reason.”
She tipped her head to the side and studied him. “You’ve never had sex without kissing first?”
He plunked his mug down on the counter and his chest expanded slowly before quickly contracting. “Don’t you gotta open the shop soon?”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
He sucked on his teeth. “Didn’t say that.”
“Sounds like it. Is it because I tempt you?” When he didn’t respond, she continued. “Because that’s what you said.”
He grunted.
“Is the temptation in the room with us right now?” she tried to tease. Unfortunately, her attempt fell flat.
“Yeah, Lyric. It’s in the fuckin’ room right now.” His grumble sounded more irritated than amused.
He abruptly turned, pulled a bottle of whiskey from a cabinet over the coffee maker, and generously poured some into his mug. He then downed half the mug.
Holy crap. “A little early for that, isn’t it?”
He circled the mug in front of him. “Too early for all this shit.”
“Point taken.” It was time to get out of there since he didn’t want to be bothered. She cleared the sudden thickness from her throat. “Before I go”—she pulled out her phone—“let me pull up my calendar and we can reschedule your tattoo. I think you’ll like the finished design.”
He never had an opinion on what she designed for him. He had always accepted whatever it was.
One day she should simply draw a big, veiny penis and see if he objected to that.
Now she wasn’t looking forward to tattooing the hawk on the side of his head. Luckily, she could act like a professional and pretend he was simply another client.
He plucked the phone from her fingers.
“Hey!” She tried to grab it back from him but he set it aside on the counter and blocked her access to it by using his big body.
“That ain’t why you’re here.”
“Of course not. I already told you that. I’m here because of the kiss.”
“Should just forget it ever happened.”
She stared up at him and said slowly, “I don’t want to forget it, Ashton.”
His nostrils flared. “I ain’t for you, baby.”