Page 24 of Aro (Cerberus MC)

Page List


Font:  

“How have you been?” he asks as he takes a seat opposite of me, in the recliner.

“As well as can be expected,” I mutter, hating the self-pitying tone in my voice.

“You seem agitated,” Ugly says, calling me out on my shit.

I frown in his direction. “It's a lot to get used to,” I say.

“Have you been out of the house for anything other than PT?”

I narrow my eyes, wondering if he's going to give me shit for not going to counseling. “I don't exactly have the ability to go sightseeing,” I say.

Ugly hums in agreement. “I guess that's true.”

I shift my weight on the couch, trying to get more comfortable, but there's nothing that will take the ache out of my muscles and bones. Silence surrounds us for a long moment before Ugly slaps both of his knees before standing.

“I'm going to get a beer. Do you want one?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think we have any beer.”

He gives me a slow smile. “I put some in the fridge when I got here. You want one?”

I shake my head. I know a six-pack would probably help me feel better, but dulling the pain I feel in that way is a slippery slope. Instead of trying to pressure me into having a drink with him, Ugly simply leaves the living room and heads into the kitchen.

We need to talk, Slick and I. I have a lot of things to say about that kiss earlier, but I know I’m not going to be able to do that with Ugly here.

Chapter 13

Slick

Aro didn’t mention Ugly coming today, but I knew he was aware that our teammate was going to show up because he was not surprised at all. At the sight of his bike in the driveway when we got back to the house, I left the room as quickly as possible because for the first time since arriving at Cerberus, I felt awkward around my teammates.

I know it’s dangerous and messy to start anything with one of the men I work with. Ugly’s arrival at the house made that glaringly obvious. Knowing it, however, doesn’t exactly make me want to stop that kiss we shared earlier. It was possibly the best kiss I’ve ever experienced. I blame the crush I’ve had on the man since day one.

I tried to reason it all in my head why there would be no problem with continuing what we’ve done while we’re here in Albuquerque. No one has to know, first off. Secondly, we’re grown adults. Third, I imagine a little tryst would lift his spirits. For me, it would be the memories of getting to spend time with him in that way.

I stay in my bedroom. After ordering pizza for lunch, I shouldn’t be eavesdropping on their conversation, but that doesn’t stop me from pressing my ear to the door. Ugly’s tone is different than it ever has been while chatting at the clubhouse.

I can tell he wants to ask more questions than what he is. He’s never been one to engage in small talk. I can easily tell he wants to ask Aro about that day in Costa Rica. Why he did what he did. I imagine he wants to know how he’s doing mentally.

I would never share the things I know. The panic attack that Aro had is no one’s business. I imagine we’d all suffer the same if we were in Aro’s position. If we experienced what he did.

I don’t leave the bedroom until I get the notification from DoorDash that our food is on the way. I find both Aro and Ugly sitting at the kitchen table. Both have a beer in front of them. Aro has a bottle of water which he’s peeling the label off of in an effort to not have to look at his friend.

“Pizza should be here in a few minutes,” I tell them before walking to the refrigerator and grabbing a bottle of water for myself. It’s unusual for Aro not to be having a beer, especially since he’s refusing the pain meds the doctor prescribed before leaving Houston. I don’t question it. Alcohol isn’t exactly going to help him heal faster and I know he’s already pushing himself too much. Anthony pointed out as much in physical therapy today.

No one speaks as I sit down across from Aro, making the awkwardness I already feel even worse. I barely manage to keep from sighing in relief when the doorbell rings. I get up faster than I should from the table, heading to the front door. I look in Aro’s direction but his eyes are still locked on his water bottle.

Lunch is as awkward as the silence was when I entered the room. We all eat and engage in small talk. It becomes clear quickly that Aro isn’t interested in chatting.


Tags: Marie James Erotic