How to Fall in Love (59 page)

My heart breaks a little more for him.

I’ve got three choices here: I can be an asshole, storm out and tell him I’m quitting. I can try to distance myself from him, pushing him out of my life completely and starting fresh or I can stay in the job, keep smiling and being his friend, and be the girl that a part of him, albeit small, was falling for.

I force a smile, though I’m sure my lip wobbles. “I’m not going to quit, Reign. You know me: push me down and I’ll get back up. Besides, I need this job. I was laid off from the other accounting firm so if I walk now, I’ve got nothing to fall back on.”

His eyes narrow. “You didn’t tell me you got laid off.

I shrug. “I didn’t think there was a need to.”

His expression softens and he takes a step forward, placing his hand on my cheek. “I know what this all looks like to you, Tia, but I haven’t made my choice. You know where I stand with Selena, but you also know where I stand with you. I don’t want you to walk away from me, because right now I honestly don’t know where the fuck I’m at. I don’t want to be angry at either of you, but I also don’t want to trust the wrong person.”

“I said I understand,” I whisper, staring at his golden, broken eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, Reign; what sort of person would that make me? I’m not going to lie and tell you this doesn’t hurt, because it does. It hurts more than you could possibly know, because I do care about you and I don’t want to see you in pain. I can take a step back, I can let you sort this out, but if you only take one thing from me, Reign, then take this: you need to step back from her, too. To make the right choices, to get your head around the right information, then you need to clear yourself of both of us until you can see through the mist again.”

He studies my face, and then he leans down to kiss my forehead. “You’re right. Thank you for being the better person about this.”

Oh, believe me, I don’t want to be. But what choice do I truly have? I can’t lose him; not when I know what he’s being left with.

I wave my hand and step back. “No problems.”

He purses his lips, but doesn’t say anymore about the subject. “You’re still going to leave, though. Aren’t you?”

I nod. “I have to. It’s too fresh and too raw right now. It hasn’t been a successful week and I think it’s best if we give each other a few days.”

He nods. “I get that. Let me organize safe travel home for you.”

I smile and watch as he pulls his phone from his pocket to get that all under way. My heart aches for him, because I know how confused he must be right now. He’s literally torn between two worlds and that can’t be an easy place to be. I finish up with my luggage and roll it to the door before sighing and glancing around the room one more time.

By the time Reign gets back in town, I vow to be the person he hired and cared about again. But for now, I’m going home to sulk.

And I’m absolutely allowed to.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

One week later

Hiccup.

“Can I have another?”

Hiccup.

“You sure about that?”

Hiccup and a glare for the bartender. “Yes.”

I’m out in a strange bar, drowning my sorrows. I am going back to work tomorrow, going back to see Reign and pretend like none of this matters. The more I think about the entire situation, the more I realize it’s going to be fucking hard to pretend it doesn’t matter to me to be around him.

I think I made the wrong choice.

I should have stuck with getting angry and running away.

“Little wingman,” I hear a husky voice purr from behind me.

I turn to see Spike and a whole shitload of other bikers and women behind him. My eyes widen.
Whoa.

“Biker.” I smirk. “What brings your fine ass to this bar?”

He lets his eyes run over me and he scrunches up his nose. “You showered in the last few days?”

I gape at him and swing around in my chair. “I beg your pardon, this look is very in right now.”

He raises a brow. “That so?”

“Yes,” I say, crossing my arms. “That’s so.”

Okay, so I didn’t take a great deal of care with my appearance. I wasn’t coming out to get laid or have fun, I was coming to get drunk.  My denim short skirt is old, faded and ratty. My tank was once a dark, gorgeous blue. Now it, too, is faded. My hair has been messily brushed and thrown atop my head and I’m wearing only a pair of flip-flops.

I never claimed to be classy.

“Where’s your boy?” Spike asks, looking around.

I frown and turn in my chair, taking the shot that the bartender hands me. “For starters, he is not my boy. For seconds, I wouldn’t know where he is. I haven’t seen him for a week.”

“Trouble in paradise?”

I turn back towards him. His little group have all gone and filled about three tables in the bar. “Define paradise?” I slur.

He raises a brow. “You’re fuckin’ drunk.”

I snort and lean in close. “Last time I checked, that’s usually why you come to a bar that serves
alcohol.”

He chuckles. “Smart ass. Listen, come and sit with us. Meet the girls. They’d love you.”

I narrow my eyes at him and give a skeptical look. “Love me
how
? Because I’m telling you right now, buddy, I don’t munch rugs.”

He snorts a laugh and takes my hand, pulling me off the stool. “Precious, those girls like cock more than you like the alcohol you’re desperately clutching in your hand right now.”

I stare down at my hand and see I am, in fact, clutching my glass as if it’s going to be wrestled from me at any moment.

“Funny,” I mutter.

He leads me over and stops at one of the tables of bikers. Then he announces loudly, “Men, this is Reign’s woman, Tiani.”

“I am not his woman,” I hiss into his ear.

“Fine,” he corrects himself. “Men, this is Reign’s
I put my dick in it but she ain’t my woman
Tiani.”

I glare at him. “You’re a jackass.”

“Stop being a dirtbag, Spike,” a gorgeous blond girl with the most dazzling yellow eyes I’ve ever seen says, standing and walking over.

“Hi,” she says, stretching out a hand. “I’m Ciara. Spike’s old lady, or, as I like to call myself, his better half.”

Spike snorts and joins the guys at the table. Another two girls come over, both of them equally as gorgeous as Ciara. Wow, do they raid the runway and steal their models?

“I’m Addison, Cade’s old lady,” the first girl, with long dark hair and a mischievous face, says.

“And I’m Serenity,” says the second girl, who is gorgeous and tiny, just like a pixie. “I’m Jackson’s old lady.”

“Question,” I say, reaching out and shaking their hands. “You like being called, an old lady?”

Addison laughs, putting her arm around my shoulder. “Me and you will get along just fine. And the term
old lady
to us is somewhat of a compliment. It means we matter; it means we’re more than just club whores. It means we are protected by the club and always will be. It might sound crappy, but to them, it matters in a way marriage and commitment matter to others.”

I glance around at all the bikers. “Any of them single?”

The girls burst out laughing, and a few of the guys chuckle. The girls usher me over to sit down, and I feel oddly comfortable with them.

“Hi boys,” I hear a sultry, sexy voice say.

I look up from my drink to see two less-than-sexy women approaching the table. Okay, granted, one day those girls might have been quite stunning but now . . . they are just a mix of ratty hair, yellow teeth, skintight clothes and seriously bad acne. Sick.

“Who the hell are they?” I ask Addi, leaning over so she can hear me.

“Whores.”

“These men actually sleep with them?” I gasp, disgusted.

She shrugs. “Some of them aren’t choosy.”

“Oh hell no. That’s disgusting.”

“Not now,” Cade grunts at the girls. “We don’t want you around our club tonight. Fuck off.”

The girl with the ratty, blond hair bats her eyelashes at him. Oh, ew. Dream on, lady.

“But Cade,” she whines. “We barely see you here anymore.”

“You fuckin’ deaf?” Addison barks. “Go and find another toy to play with.”

I smile at her outburst, and even more when Cade grins at her. Sweet. Maybe I’ll endeavor to be an old lady someday.

“Um,” Raggedy Anne says, screwing up her unpleasant little nose. “Who asked you?”

I snort loudly, causing her eyes to divert to mine.

“Hello.” I smile wickedly.

She looks around, confused.

“Oh, I’m talking to you sweetheart.” I grin, leaning back in my chair. “It appears you can’t take a hint.”

She snorts. “What’s someone like you going to do, tiny?”

My grin gets bigger. “You don’t actually think I need to leave my seat to get you running, do you, princess?”

She crosses her arms, and the other one puts her hand on her hip and glares at me.

“It’s already apparent to me that aside from your lack of intellect that
one
, you don’t know how to shower,
two,
you don’t know how to brush your teeth,
three
, you certainly don’t know how to dress, because my God, there is a fat roll squeezed so tightly in that skirt it’s probably screaming for air, and
four
the only reason these men fuck you is because they’re too lazy to pull themselves.”

Blondie growls, but her hand slides down to her thigh to run over the piece of skin that really is shoved too tightly into that tiny skirt. “And who are you?”

I put my hand to my chest. “Oh, I’m so sorry. How rude of me. I’m Tia. I am not a whore. I shower – well, except for tonight - brush my teeth, and I like men who aren’t too lazy to wank.”

The men burst out laughing, some of them holding their bellies as they try to regain control.

“Well,” the ginger-haired girl says. “We didn’t ask your opinion. These men will decide if they want us here or not.”

“These men have personal hygiene, and even if they don’t, they are about to learn it because I’m about to lecture them on the dangers of sticking their dicks into trashcans.”

Ginger’s eyes widen and she sniffs loudly, her chin tilted slightly up.

“Now run along, because believe me, if I have to step around this table, there’s goin’ to be fists
a-swingin’
.”

“Come on Janie,” the blonde says. “We can do better anyway.”

“Oh.” I laugh. “You keep telling yourself that, honey.”

When they’re gone, everyone is still laughing. I stand and take a small bow, before sitting back in my seat, but not before turning to Cade and saying, “You need to teach your boys better hygiene.”

“Think you just did that for them.” He chuckles. “Way to go, little wingman.”

Seems that name has stuck.

I’m totally okay with that.

~*~*~*~

“S
o, darlin’, tell us why Reign ain’t here and you are,” Jackson says as the night progresses on.

“I thought bikers didn’t gossip?” I say, raising my brows at him.

He winks at me. God, he’s good looking. If I was maybe ten years older I’d be all over him. Though it looked like Serenity was doing a damned good job at it herself.

“He’s our boy, and if our boy is caught up in somethin’, we wanna know.”

“Aw.” I pout, pushing my lip out. Then I say in a cute voice, “Your boy.”

“You’re a real smartass, ain’t ya, precious?” Spike says, giving me a lazy half-grin.

“I was born this way,” I begin, and then finish the sentence off by singing a Miley Cyrus song, “
I can’t be tamed
. . .”

Laughter breaks out again and Addi announces, “I like her. Maybe we have a boy spare that can give her a place as an old lady.”

“Better not do that,” Cade says. “Reign would have a fuckin’ fit.”

“Oh, he would not,” I protest.

Addi leans in closer. “So who is this Reign?”

“He’s like, fuckin’ smokin’ hot,” Ciara adds, with an enthusiastic nod of her head.

“Hey,” Spike barks. “Calm down, Tomcat.”

She blows him a kiss and turns back to us. “I saw him the other night at the club. Holy shit, woman. Tell me you’ve tapped that.”

“Oh, I tapped it all right. He’ll need therapy after the tapping I gave him.”

Addison laughs and wraps an arm around me. “I’m claiming you. You’re my type of girl.”

Cade rolls his eyes and puts a booted foot up on the chair next to him. “You gonna tell us why you’re in here gettin’ drunk, and why he ain’t?”

“You know why Reign hired me,” I say, shooting back another shot of tequila. “He’s hung up on his ex and he wanted me to make her jealous. We fucked a few times, he picked her. The end. All is fair in love and war.”

Cade raises his brows at me and Serenity pipes up with, “What a jerk-off. Picking her.”

I nod at her. “Right?”

“Did he actually say the words ‘I pick her?’” Cade asks.

I look away sheepishly. “Well, not exactly, but . . .”

“Then how do you know he picked her?”

“He just did.”

“You talk to him about it?”

I glare at him. “Jesus, biker,” I mutter. “No I didn’t talk to him about it. I found out some information about her and told him, she disputed it and he believed her.”

“What information?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “She aborted his baby and told him she miscarried. She’s a lying slut.”

He sits upright. “Then what the fuck are you doin’ backin’ down?”

My mouth drops open. “What do you want me to do? He picked her. He didn’t believe me.”

“He’s our people, and our people don’t get messed around by a fuckin’ whore and her expensive fuckin’ pussy. You sure she said she aborted the baby?”

I hold up my hand, where a fading bruise lays angrily across my knuckles. “I’m sure.”

He nods. “And you care about him?”

“That’s beside the point—”

“Do you fuckin’ care about him?” he snaps, cutting me off.

“I change my mind,” I mumble, crossing my arms. “I don’t want to be an old lady. You bikers are broody.”

Addi laughs and says, “Don’t mind him. Just answer the question, honey. Did you care about him?”

I sigh. “Yes, of course. I love him.”

They all stare at me.