“A girls’ night in,” Grace clarifies.
“We can turn the indoor pool into an oasis,” Jasmine adds. “You’ll come, won’t you, Sylvie?”
I nod, if anything to avoid a harder conversation about why I just don’t feel like I deserve a night to relax and enjoy the company of the women in this room. Aren’t they aware of what I did or didn’t do that led to a little girl being hurt and a woman murdered?
Chapter 30
Spade
“Where are you going?” Aro asks when I walk toward the door leading into the living area of the clubhouse.
“It’s fucking stuffy in here,” I complain. “All you fucking mouth breathers are making me uncomfortable.”
Ugly chuckles as he stands from the table. “More like he doesn’t have eyes on his woman.”
I don’t argue. Getting defensive would only rile them up even more, but my refusal to play along doesn’t keep them all from following me out of the room.
We join Tug, Dominic, and Griffin in the far corner of the room. Each of the guys has a beer in their hands, but I turn down the offer to grab one from the fridge when Aro asks.
He eyes me like he can read my mind, but I just look away from him, unable to be in the room a minute longer without looking toward Sylvie.
A handful of women are sitting on the sofa across the room, each smiling and laughing as they chat. Sylvie is right in the middle of it, but I can see that she’s not having as good of a time as she’s trying to convince everyone she is.
Faith isn’t fooled by her behavior either, but she’s also not the type of woman to call her friend out on it in front of mixed company.
Today was the first day Sylvie mentioned wanting to leave her house. I’d hoped that being here with her friend would help, and maybe it has some, but it’s definitely not a quick fix.
The woman still feels guilty, and there’s nothing I can do to take that from her, despite wanting to own it all myself. She’s going to have to work through it the same way we all do. I can only hope it doesn’t drag her too far down because I miss the way her eyes smile when she’s genuinely happy, and the way she gets fired up and feisty when she’s annoyed with me.
My back straightens when she nods her head before standing from the sofa. Her eyes search the room, finding mine, and I do my best to ignore the way my chest tightens when we lock gazes. I have this unexplained need to tuck her under my arm and pull her into my side when she approaches.
“Hey there,” Aro says in a tone I’ve heard too many times atJake’sto confuse his meaning.
“Hi,” Sylvie says, but she keeps her eyes on mine. “Are you ready to go?”
I don’t bother with goodbyes as I walk away with Sylvie. I know they’re going to talk shit and make predictions the second we leave. But even knowing that doesn’t bother me, because the second we’re outside, Sylvie tangles one of her fingers with mine, and it affects me greater than some women have standing in front of me completely naked.
Taking a chance, I let my hand brush down her hip after opening the passenger side of one of the SUVs for her. Her teeth dig into her lower lip as she settles inside.
She doesn’t argue about leaving her car here as we drive away. She seems a little too focused on shifting in her seat as if she’s uncomfortable to open her mouth.
Her discomfort is glaringly obvious the second we step inside her house. I barely have time to lock her front door before she’s standing on the tips of her toes, fingers tangled in my hair, as she pulls my mouth down to meet hers.
“Shower with me?” she asks after the second-best kiss of my life.
The first being last night. I’ll never forget the taste of tears on her lips and the way she sighed into my mouth as if she’d been waiting for that connection her entire life.
She’s frantic to strip me naked, and I can’t help but meet her energy as clothes are pulled and skin is revealed. I have to pause, releasing her to get my boots off, but she utilizes the time to peel her sexy panties from her hips, kicking them to the side.
“You’re wasting time,” she teases, making me aware that I’m just standing there with laces in my hand, my mouth hanging open.
“You’re fucking sexy as hell. You know that, right?”
“You’d be sexier if you were naked and wet,” is her rebuttal before she slinks into the bathroom, the ass that I’m quickly becoming obsessed with twitching back and forth with every damn step she takes.
I’m certain I pull skin from my heel as I peel my boots off, kicking my jeans and boxer briefs away in the next breath.
I don’t know where the change happened or what the women were talking about that has made her look at me the way she does when I step up to her in the shower, but I feel like I should send each of them flowers, regardless of the shitstorm that will occur from their equally possessive men.