6. Kelsey
Kelsey
What was she doing? Kelsey had lost her marbles. Was she drunk? She’d barely nursed a beer and a half at the bar. More than that normally got her tipsy. Unless Pete had slipped her something. Which was possible, she supposed. She didn’t feel drugged. If anything, she was quite clear-minded.
Except she wasn’t.
She’d experienced her first ride on the back of a Harley-Davidson, and her panties were soaked through.
Which, she could argue, meant that she was not of sound mind.
There was no way she would invite an unknown criminal biker into her home, alone, in the middle of the night, if she possessed all her faculties.
Yet here she was. Opening the door with a burly biker man right behind her.
Jesus Christ. What had she gotten herself into?
Think rationally.
Pete had assaulted her. If this random man on a motorcycle hadn’t shown up, who knew how far Pete would’ve gone? Beardo biker Kevlar was her savior.
He didn’t have to step in, but he did.
He didn’t have to bring her home, but he did.
They may have just met, but he was a hell of a lot more trustworthy than the guy she shared a beer with earlier. One thing, though. Before they went inside, she needed to find out one single detail about him.
Whirling around, keys in hand, she met his gaze. “What’s your name?”
A humble grin appeared between his mustache and his beard. “Kevlar.”
She wrinkled her nose. Not a real name. There wasn’t a mother on the planet who would do that to a baby. Though should she really press him? If he didn’t want to share his legal name, who was she to demand it?
“You can call me Kev if you’d like,” he offered.
Tightening her lips into a thin line, she nodded. Fine. Whatever. He’d done her a favor. She supposed she could go with it. Sticking out her hand, still holding her boobs with the other, she introduced herself. “Kelsey.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said as he took her hand quickly. “Can we go inside now?”
She nodded, returned her attention to the door, and unlocked it. Pushing it open, she then walked into her small living space and flicked the switch, turning on the overhead light.
“I wasn’t expecting company,” she said as she kicked her shoes to the side and out of the walkway.
Passing the couch, she collected the assortment of tops she’d discarded while deciding what to wear for the evening. She was thankful for the added material offering her more modesty than she’d had before.
“It’s fine,” he assured her as he glanced around her cluttered space.
Kelsey wasn’t the best housekeeper, though she wouldn’t go so far as to say she was dirty. She had a plopping problem. Stuff lived on whatever flat surface she came across. Although, when she expected company, she tidied things up.
Kev dropped onto her sectional sofa with a whoosh and kicked off his boots.
“Make yourself comfortable.” The words fell from her lips before she had time to think about them. Hopefully, he wouldn’t get too cozy.
Not that she knew what that meant.
He was a good guy. He’d helped her. She had to remember that. Just because he wore the diamond patch didn’t mean he was as much of an asshole as Pete had been. They were different people. She couldn’t paint all bikers with the same brush.
So far, Kev had proven himself to be quite the gentleman. A little handsy, but nothing she hadn’t welcomed. His actions weren’t as invasive as what Pete had done.
Internally, she shook her head and refocused on the task at hand. She had to get herself presentable. Pete had practically ripped her shirt off. If she didn’t find something suitable to replace it, she would have no one to blame if Kev got the wrong idea and acted on it.
Grabbing a dirty plate she’d abandoned on her table, she ducked into the kitchen.
Flipping through the garments in her hands, she shook her head.
She’d opted against them earlier because they either didn’t fit right or were more revealing than she’d liked.
The situation remained the same. None of these would do.
She dropped the plate in the sink and then scurried across her apartment, glancing in his direction as she went.
“Would you like a drink? Water? Coke?” she offered. She was hosting after all; the least she could do was get him something.
“Got any beer?” he asked as she ducked into the privacy of her bedroom.
“Um. Maybe,” she answered as she tugged the rest of her shirt over her head. “I had a party not that long ago. I think there is still some leftover.”
Holding the torn top in her hands, she frowned. It’d been one of her more flattering shirts. The bright blue was her favorite color. The deep V of the neckline allowed her to show off the girls, but with some class.
Apparently, that hadn’t been enough for Pete, considering he’d ripped it off her body.
Dickhead.
With a sigh, she tossed it into the corner of her room. She didn’t want to think about that right now. It was behind her. Kev had rescued her from what could have happened. Now she needed to sort that out.
Opening her dresser drawers, she tapped her finger against her chin. What could she wear that would send the right message?
What message did she want to put out there?
Chewing her bottom lip, she considered her sleep clothes. Pulling out a pair of lace-lined satin booty shorts with a matching chemise was an option.
Kelsey shook her head. That wasn’t a good idea. She stuffed that outfit into the corner of the drawer.
An oversized, threadbare Care Bear T-shirt with matching boxer shorts could work.
Loose-fitting and comfortable. There was no way anyone would be impressed or enticed by such attire.
Pursing her lips, she considered the material of the shirt.
It’d seen better days and become essentially see-through over the years, so she’d have to put on a bra.
She hated wearing them when she was in her apartment.
If she hadn’t had company, she would’ve removed it the moment she walked through the door.
So, nope.
That went right next to her satin number. Apparently, when Kelsey went to sleep, she either looked like a ho or a hobo.
“I’ll be right there,” she called, realizing she had been in there a while.
Pick something!
Anything would do at this point. She had to stop overthinking this.
Shutting her nightclothes drawer, she then opened another one. Leggings. Perfect. They would do. From the top drawer, she selected a longline sports bra. While, yes, a portion of her midriff would be exposed, this outfit wasn’t as bad as her cleavage hanging out. Plus, no underwire.
Modesty and comfort. Win-win.
She made quick work of kicking off her jeans. The compression pants went on easily enough and were high-waisted. They wouldn’t meet the bottom of the extended torso of her top, but that was fine. That area of the body showing wasn’t as scandalous as her breasts flopping all over the place.
Struggling into the bra, she grunted until she finally got the girls tucked away and sitting properly. Someone needed to reinvent the sports bra. There had to be another way to keep everyone secure without it going over her head.
A thought for another day.
Lifting her arm, she gave her pit a quick sniff. Wrinkling her nose, she grabbed some body spray. She didn’t want to smell like Pete. That seemed rude. After a few spritzes, she checked the mirror and froze.
Dear God.
She resembled a bridge troll. The soft curls she’d meticulously styled were gone. Her hair was knotted and windblown. With her lipstick smudged around her mouth, her reflection reminded her of a clown. Her eyeliner ran, giving her the ever-so-sexy raccoon look.
There wasn’t enough time to fix herself.
However, she could grab a quick makeup wipe and at least tidy up a little.
Kelsey had already left Kev alone in her apartment long enough.
If she remained in her room another ten minutes, he might come find her.
Grabbing her brush, she figured she could at least get the knots out as she entered the living room.
“Sorry,” she apologized and briefly detangled her hair.
With his legs crossed and his ankles on her coffee table, Kevlar grinned. Holding up a bottle of light beer, he winked. “No problem.”
Apparently, he had helped himself to her refrigerator. Nothing invasive about that at all.