In addition to those thoughts, I’m now wondering why Spade didn’t come with the other guys.
Did he make plans with another woman?
Does he just not want to see me?
“I think I know the answer, but I had to ask.”
I look over at Legend, somehow losing track of the conversation.
“What’s that?”
He gives me a small smile, and it’s filled with sympathy. I hate the look on his face. I don’t need anyone worrying about me.
“I thought maybe you’d want to stay at the clubhouse when we leave for work.”
My head shakes immediately. “No, thank you.”
“You and Faith can have a girls’ night, or several girls’ nights.”
“We’re having a girls’ night right now.” I lift my drink, grateful when Legend asks Aro a question.
A girls’ night is one thing but being at the clubhouse for days and possibly weeks would undo everything I’ve been working on the last couple of weeks. I know I’d seek out Spade’s room, needing to revisit that first night we shared, and I already do that enough but from the sanctity of my own home.
I need my space and silence to work through all the shit that has been weighing me down.
“You’re sure?” Faith asks when the guys start to argue about the fucking Super Bowl of all things.
“I’m sure,” I tell her, a weak smile the best I can manage.
“I’m worried about you.”
“I’m working through it all. It’s just going to take time.”
“You’ll let me know if there’s anything you need?”
“Of course,” I tell her as I wave my empty glass between the two of us. “Are you my designated driver? Because I think I’m going to need a couple more of these things.”
Chapter 36
Spade
“You coming?” Aro asks as I enter the clubhouse.
“Coming to what?” I ask as I make my way to the kitchen for a cold bottle of water.
“Probably not since you just worked out.” He points to my sweat-damp shirt. “When did you start running?”
“How do you know I was running?” I snap.
That’s the thing about Cerberus. Everyone is in each other’s fucking business, but there’s one subject they seem to have taken a vote on not mentioning around me. It’s gotten to the point that I want to scream because I want to fucking talk about it. I want advice from the guys who have managed to snag the fucking woman of their dreams. They’re all very fucking helpful getting on my nerves until I really need them, and then it’s nothing but fucking crickets around here.
“Your legs are dusty from the gravel road. What’s your problem?”
Guilt builds in my chest as I chug a bottle of water.
“I’m fine.”
“Obviously,” he mutters before turning around and heading toward the back door.