Tank had fucked up, big time.
Bell did deserve someone better than him. Someone who did legal shit, but he couldn’t stand the thought of another guy being anywhere near her.
He passed the clubhouse and headed in the direction of the diner.
By the time he arrived at the diner, the lights were out, and he saw a few people moving around inside.
Tonight was Bell’s night to close up shop.
He turned off the engine of his bike but stayed straddling his machine, waiting.
The owner and Bell made their way to the door, and he watched as the old man let her out, but not before asking if she needed him to call the cops.
Tank didn’t consider himself an expert lip reader, but it wasn’t hard to determine what was being said.
Bell was surprised to see him but told the old man that it was fine. He was a friend.
That stung. He’d been placed in a friend zone. It was no fault but his own.
Once Bell was outside, she walked toward him, hiking her bag up on her shoulder. Did she even realize how sensuous she walked? The sway of her hips only heated up his blood.
“Tank,” she said.
“Attitude.”
He saw the corner of her lips twitch, but she didn’t caveand break into a full-blown smile. Not that he blamed her. He’d fucked up.
“What brings you here?” she asked.
“I heard a young woman needed some company walking home.”
Bell shook her head. “Nah, she doesn’t need any company from a man who doesn’t want to be around her. You can head home, back to your life. You have yours, and I have mine.”
Tank should have expected it. He’d been a prick to her. It was only natural for her to be pissed at him. Not that he blamed her. He’d be pissed at himself as well.
“What if I said that he’s sorry?” Tank asked.
Bell folded her arms underneath her breasts and stared at him. “Then I’d be shocked, but what is he so sorry about?”
“For telling her that they weren’t going to see each other anymore?”
She pursed her lips. “Not good enough, you see this guy thought that he knew what was better for her than anyone else, and that, well, that just plain old sucks.” She tutted.
He smirked. He couldn’t help it.
Back at the clubhouse, women wouldn’t dream of standing up to him. All he had to do was point, and they’d do exactly as he said.
Bell was holding him to his shit.
“He’s a lot older than her,” he said.
“Doesn’t make him wise. She might be older than his years,” Bell said. “And don’t you think it’s a little unfair that he gets to call the shots? I mean, how does she know that he’s really sorry? He could be looking for some entertainment to pass the night away for all I know.”
“He’d never do that to you.”
Bell took a step toward him, then another. “You were unfair.”
“I know.”