Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Razor sat in the quiet of his office, staring out the window, the world outside moving in sharp contrast to the stillness inside his head.
He couldn’t shake the thought of Lottie; the way she had wormed her way into every corner of his life without him even realizing it.
And now, as much as he tried to compartmentalize, he couldn’t ignore the reality that she had become something more than just an employee at the clinic.
She was in his world now…her world. And maybe, just maybe, there was more to it than he was willing to admit. The information Sherlock found did nothing to sway him from wanting her. Nothing stood out like a beacon screaming against the dark sky as a warning to turn away.
It had been a year since she’d started working at the clinic, and in that time, Razor had seen sides of Lottie that he hadn’t expected.
When she’d first walked through the door, she had been like any other rebellious spirit…
disheveled, often a little too bold, and at times, a bit too careless.
He remembered how she'd sauntered in some mornings looking hungover, her eyes shadowed with the aftermath of late nights that bled into early mornings. She didn’t talk much about her personal life then, but it was clear enough from the way she carried herself that she was running from something or perhaps running to something.
But that was over now. Over the past year, she’d become a different person in front of him.
There was a quiet professionalism about her now, a sharpness that hadn’t been there when she first started.
Lottie had taken on more responsibility than anyone had expected, and Razor couldn’t deny the respect he had for her work ethic.
She never said no. Not once. Always willing to cover shifts, always offering to pick up extra hours when others called out, always there when he needed her, no questions asked.
It was almost like she had thrown herself into her work to avoid whatever else was waiting outside.
At first, Razor had thought it was just a phase—something she’d eventually grow out of.
But now, a year later, it seemed like her entire world had narrowed to the clinic.
If he didn’t know better, he’d think she’d given up on a personal life altogether.
She didn’t talk about going out anymore, didn’t mention dates or anything outside of the sterile walls of the clinic.
It was almost as if she had erased herself from the world outside.
Razor leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair, the weight of his thoughts pressing heavier on him with each passing second.
It was as if Lottie had retreated into herself, into her work, and maybe that was the one thing that still tethered her to something.
He didn’t know what had happened to her, what had turned her into the person she was now.
But he knew one thing for sure—he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
The idea of bending his rules, of allowing her to cross the line from employee to something more, wasn’t just tempting.
It was becoming necessary. He knew there was something between them, something deeper than the fleeting moments they shared when their eyes met across the room.
He had felt it the night of their first kiss, the way her lips had pressed against his with an urgency that caught him off guard.
And he felt it again whenever she was near, when he could smell her perfume in the air, when he could hear the sound of her voice in the quiet.
But then the walls went up. His rules were what kept him steady, what kept him grounded.
He was a man who controlled his life, his world, and for years, he had told himself that adding a woman into it was nothing but chaos waiting to happen.
He couldn’t afford that. Not again. Not after what happened before.
But as he thought about it more, he realized that Lottie had already slipped into that world. Without him even realizing it, she’d become part of his life in ways he hadn’t expected. She was in the clinic. She was in his daily routine.
And now... She was in his head.
The question was, could he bend those rules to get closer to her? Could he bring her into the fold of his life, into the shadows of the world he’d built? Or would it destroy everything?
He stood up abruptly, his muscles tight with the tension of indecision. This wasn’t just about what he wanted. This was about how far he could push those boundaries before everything started to crack.
Razor thought back to their last conversation, to the way she’d looked at him, the subtle pull between them that neither of them acknowledged openly. He wondered if she even realized what she was doing to him.
But then again, maybe she didn’t need to. Maybe she wanted him to see it.
His heart pounded as he turned his thoughts over in his mind.
If he gave in to this, if he let himself entertain the idea of bringing Lottie closer.
he wasn’t sure where it would lead. But what he did know was that she had already carved a space for herself in his world, and that space was growing. Slowly, dangerously.
For now, Razor let out a breath and reached for his jacket. One thing was certain: he couldn’t keep ignoring it forever.
Especially now more than ever. Needing time to think, the only thing that would help clear his mind was getting in the wind for a while.
Blasting down the road on his Harley, Razor headed outside the city limits.
He wanted to take a ride in the countryside.
Twisting the throttle as the bike went into a deep curve, the inertia kept him level as the bike flowed with the road.
Razor couldn’t shake the nagging question: would Lottie want more than a casual date?
The wind tore at Razor’s leather jacket as he opened the throttle and surged down the open road, the rumble of his Harley vibrating through his bones.
The city was a blur behind him, swallowed up by the darkening horizon.
He didn’t know how far he was going, just that he needed to get away for a while.
The steady hum of the engine beneath him was the only thing that could calm the storm in his chest.
He’d learned long ago that there were moments when you needed to get out of your own head, get away from the noise, and let the wind whip through your thoughts until they sorted themselves out.
His mind had been racing ever since he hung up with Sherlock.
Lottie. The woman who’d somehow become the focal point of his obsession.
He twisted the throttle, leaning into another curve, the bike slicing through the road like it was made to do it. The rhythm of the ride, the feel of the engine beneath him, it all brought him back to himself for a few seconds. But then the thoughts returned, unavoidable.
Would Lottie want more than a casual date?
The question gnawed at him. Razor wasn’t stupid.
He knew what people saw when they looked at him—rough around the edges, unpredictable, dangerous.
Women might want a taste of that, a bit of wild to break up their routine, but Lottie wasn’t like the others.
There was a sharpness to her, an intelligence that wasn’t easy to ignore. And it made him wonder.
The bike leaned into another sharp turn as Razor’s thoughts swirled faster than the road ahead. What the hell are you doing, man? The idea of pushing deeper into Lottie’s world made his chest tighten, but at the same time, it felt like a pull—something magnetic.
His grip tightened on the handlebars, knuckles white as he rode the bike through the open countryside.
The sun had dipped lower now, the sky painted in shades of orange and purple, but the road stretched endlessly ahead of him.
Razor wasn’t sure what he was hoping for out here, but it was the silence he craved—the kind of silence that didn’t have an agenda, just the quiet hum of the world around him.
Eventually, the miles started to blur together, the burn of the engine, and the hum of the road filling his senses until it almost became second nature.
Razor wasn’t sure how long he had been out there, maybe an hour, maybe two—but when he pulled off the road and into a quiet rest area, the weight of his thoughts hadn’t shifted. If anything, they’d only grown heavier.
His mind spun like the wheels beneath him, faster than he could control. The ride was supposed to be his escape, a way to put some space between him and the question that had been gnawing at him for hours. But instead, it had only dug in deeper, pulling him in a dozen directions.
He killed the engine, letting the silence settle around him as he took a deep breath. His helmet came off, and he ran a hand through his hair, the cool breeze on his face doing little to ease the knot in his gut.
It wasn’t uncommon to have both a girlfriend and still have a sub at the club.
It took a strong woman to handle that sort of relationship.
That was not what he wanted at all. Shit!
It seemed a ride in the country was not helping him clear his mind.
Now he was thinking about having both a girlfriend and a submissive instead of having both in one female.
His thoughts went to him seeing Lottie at The Red Door. Maybe she wanted a similar relationship. Maybe she was looking for what he and only he could give her. The problem was the not-knowing.
The idea of having both a girlfriend and a sub at the club wasn’t new to Razor.
It wasn’t an uncommon arrangement for people who walked the fine line between the world of commitment and the pull of their darker desires.
It took someone strong to handle both roles, someone who could navigate the complexity of that relationship with an understanding of boundaries and trust. But Razor didn’t want that.
He wasn’t looking for a setup where the pieces never quite fit together.
But what if she could be both? The thought echoed in his mind, uninvited, relentless. What if Lottie could be the one who fulfilled both sides of him? His girl, the one he could build something with, and the one who could surrender to him, no questions asked.
What if she was looking for the same thing?
What if she wanted someone who could give her what she needed, someone who wasn’t afraid to push boundaries, to take control?
What if, deep down, she was hoping someone would see her the way he saw her?
No pretenses, no games. Just raw, unfiltered desire and understanding.
But the problem was that nagging question. The uncertainty of not knowing whether that was what she wanted. He couldn’t just barge in and assume she’d be open to it. He wasn’t sure if he could handle the rejection, or worse, if he was the one who ended up not being what she needed.
Reaching for his phone, Razor’s fingers hovered over the screen for a moment as he fought the impulse to simply toss it away. Don’t overthink this. The words echoed in his mind, but he couldn’t shake the weight of the hesitation in his chest.
He opened his contacts. There was Lottie’s name, sitting innocently at the top of the list. The same name that had been making his pulse race all afternoon, the one that had been haunting his thoughts since the moment he laid eyes on her.
It would be so easy to pick up the phone and send a simple text: You free tonight? Or even better… Want to grab a drink sometime?
But would that be enough? Or was he already setting himself up for something more complicated than either of them could handle?
Before he could think himself out of it, his thumb hit the screen, dialing her number before he could second-guess himself. The sound of the call ringing in his ear felt like an eternity.
He could already hear her voice in his mind, and it only made the knot in his gut tighten.
What do you even say to her? he thought.
She was smart, strong-willed, and independent.
He couldn’t just go in like he was some kind of knight in shining armor offering her a seat at his side.
He’d have to meet her where she was, make her see he wasn’t just some guy playing games.
The call rang again. Razor sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, his grip tightening on the phone.
This was it. Either she answered, and the real conversation would begin, or she wouldn’t, and he’d be right back at square one, left with nothing but the same restless thoughts spinning in his head.
He hoped it wouldn’t be the latter. But even if it was, one thing was certain—he wasn’t ready to give up on figuring her out.