Chapter Eleven
“Wait, what do you mean you’re going to be late for work? You got a job there?”
Addison’s steps faltered, and she closed her eyes, squeezing the bridge of her nose. She was silently cursing her own stupidity. Never once had she considered telling her sister about the bar. Hannah wouldn’t understand nor would she support the decision.
“Addy!”
Addison released a heavy breath, ruffling her bangs.
This was the last conversation she wanted to have.
Actually…the second to last. The one she dreaded slightly more was with Cleo and having to explain her abrupt departure from the party the other night.
She’d gotten away with texting for the last day, but Cleo had been insistent they get together soon.
“Hello!”
Addison blinked open her eyes, staring up at the entrance to Barry’s.
“I’m here.”
“Where? At your job?” Hannah’s disgruntled groan only added to her own impatience. “What the hell is going on?”
“It’s not permanent, obviously. It kind of fell into my lap. I was getting dinner here, and the owner needed a bartender. It’s only a few shifts, gives me some cash, and occupies my time when I’m not hanging out with Cleo.”
There was a long stretch of silence.
“But you’re coming home, right?”
“Yes, I’m coming home.” Addison rolled her eyes. The idea she’d stay was ridiculous. “But I’m going to be late for my shift if I don’t head in now, so I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Alright, bye.”
Addison hung up, shoved the phone in her bag, and walked into the bar. As expected, there were only a few customers. The locals as she’d come to know them. She gave a small wave and received an enthusiastic greeting from the two older men at the corner of the bar.
“You’re late!” Barry threw the towel on the bar and winced, cupping his casted arm.
“By two minutes.”
“Still late,” he snapped, scowling.
She tucked her bag under the bar and rested her hip against it, folding her arms.
“Well, you could always fire me.” She shrugged. “And if that’s the case, can I get a cheeseburger, onion rings, and a beer?”
His glare hardened. “Get your ass to work.”
She pressed her lips together, holding back her smile. It would only agitate him more. She restocked the shelves, made four drinks, and bullshitted with the locals. While it wasn’t hard work, it left time for her thoughts, which wasn’t something she wanted.
I had sex with a man who hates me on a dirty couch where he’s probably banged hundreds of other women. The first of many that night, according to keg girl.
This might be a new low for me.
At least the sex was good. Good, really?
The corner of her mouth curled, and heat rushed from her chest to her cheeks.
Best sex she’d ever had would’ve been a more accurate description.
This wasn’t her first one-night stand. She’d indulged once or twice.
An equal attraction, no strings attached.
Great, hot, meaningless sex. So why did Cross feel different?
The attraction was a no-brainer and obviously mutual.
Even if his desire was clouded by hate, there was no denying it.
Hell, he’d instigated it. Maybe it was the passion?
There was something in his touch, soft at the beginning and rough when she wanted it.
As if he could read her thoughts and gauge what she needed.
And the kissing. His mouth was constantly on her. Even the few times she’d pulled away to take a much-needed breath, he took her mouth again as if he couldn’t get enough of her.
Settle down, girl!
Addison softly snorted, shaking her head.
She may have been romanticizing and was reading into this way too much.
They fucked. He came. She came. It was over.
There certainly wouldn’t be a repeat. If Cross had any interest in her beyond that night, he could’ve gotten her number from Cleo and called.
Even if he wanted to keep it discreet, he knew where she worked.
Cross could’ve shown up. Wouldn’t be the first time.
Or at the absolute least, not told her he’d come find her and then have another woman in his room ten minutes after they’d been together.
Addison wasn’t expecting anything from Cross. But a little decency and respect would’ve been appreciated. She couldn’t even get that courtesy. It’s official! Her sexy, hot, sex-stache one-night stands were over. One and done!
The creaking of the door had her heart picking up the pace. She casually turned to the entrance.
“You’re fucking late again!”
Addison eyed Barry, who was glaring toward the front door. Ava was walking through the room. She didn’t acknowledge Barry or even look his way. Addison had to batten down her snicker when Barry’s face burned red.
“Ava!” He slapped his hand on the bar.
She glanced over her shoulder and smiled.
“Ten minutes.” He shouted.
She cocked her brow. “Thank you, Father Time, but I have a phone, so I’m well aware.”
When her gaze glanced past Barry and she shifted to the left, Addison waved and started toward the end of the bar.
“Hey.” Ava said.
“Hi. I know we keep running into each other in the back, but I never introduced myself. I’m…”
“Addison. I know.” She snickered.
“Oh, I guess Barry mentioned I was working the bar.”
She scoffed. “Barry doesn’t tell me shit unless it’s to complain. Mandee, one of the dancers, told me your name. A new girl doesn’t start working here and fly under the radar without being the talk of the dressing room. Especially when they look like you.”
Aw, that’s sweet.
Ava leaned on the bar, lowering her voice. “Everyone was real happy to hear you’re working the bar and not the stage. They hate new competition.”
Addison laughed and held up her hand. “Trust me, no one wants to see me dance.”
Ava arched her brow. “I don’t know about that. Cross seemed real interested the other night.”
“Yeah, well, that’s” —she waved her hand, playing it off— “nothing.”
“Didn’t look like nothing.” Ava paused. “Between you and me? The guys from the club come in a lot. There’s some that enjoy the company of the girls. Cross isn’t one of them. And believe me, they try to get his attention.”
“Really?”
Ava nodded.
“Jesus fucking Christ. I don’t pay you two to talk.”
Ava rolled her eyes and winked. “See you later, Addison.”
“Bye.”
She watched Ava disappear behind the curtain then quickly busied herself, avoiding Barry’s glare.
With very few customers, her mind once again wandered to Cross.
He didn’t enjoy the entertainment at the strip club?
That was the opposite of how “keg girl” had described him.
But then again, Addison saw her go in his room with her own eyes.
One and done, Addy!
****
Cross lifted his mug, took a sip of his coffee, and stared at his house. Progress had been made, but it was slow.
It was strange to think in a few months, he’d have his own house.
It would be a first for Cross. He’d lived his whole life in apartments with his father.
They’d moved a lot. Some would say it was for work, and they wouldn’t be wrong.
However, it wasn’t about changing jobs. It was for safety.
His father had worked almost his entire life for Inez.
Cross was second generation in the Underground.
Once he turned eighteen, he’d thought he would follow in his father’s footsteps.
Inez had other plans. Now he had almost twenty-two years in the MC.
“How’s it going?”
“Alright.” Cross glanced to his left.
Cue stood next to him. In a few short months, they’d be neighbors. It was fine by Cross. They’d grown closer in the last couple years. Cue was younger but an old soul.
“Saw Addison at the party the other night.”
Yeah, I know. When Cue asked Cleo about her whereabouts, he assumed his brother had seen her leaving his room.
That subject was not up for discussion. Nor would he be a repeat offender.
Addison had made the decision to leave after he’d told her he’d find her.
It was obvious she regretted her choice to sleep with him.
Cross continued to stare at the house. “Yeah?”
“Came down the hall from the direction of your bedroom. You know anything about that?”
“Fuck off, Cue.”
He laughed. “Brother, I like it. Always thought it was weird none of you had taken an old lady.”
It wasn’t a rule per se, but it hadn’t happened.
Until Cleo. Killcreek was involved in a lot of dangerous deals and illegal activities.
They’d made plenty of enemies over the years.
Bringing women into their affairs wasn’t something any of them had considered.
Or maybe they hadn’t met the right woman.
“You know who else would like this?”
Jesus fucking Christ! If he says…
“Knox.”
Cross narrowed his gaze. “You see her leaving my room, and now she’s my old lady?”
“It’d be a nice change from Wraith taking fucking years to claim Cleo.” Cue shrugged. “And brother, I never said I saw her coming out of your room. But you just did.”
Fuck!
Cross lowered his mug and angled his head. “Gonna bust my balls about this?”
Cue chuckled. “Every fucking chance I get.”
He’d expect nothing less. This was not only new territory for him but the club as a whole. Cleo had been around for a while, and it was known that she was Wraith’s long before they’d made it official. But it was different. Cleo wasn’t an outsider. At least, not anymore.
He talked to Cue a little longer, changing the subject back to the construction before retreating into the clubhouse. Cross didn’t hear the voices until he walked into the main living area.
“You need to fix this. Now!” The female voice was familiar.
What the fuck? He scanned the room, making direct eye contact with Oak, who was sitting at the table drinking a beer. At ten in the morning. The brother sighed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.
“Penny.”