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I give him a smile and nod, spin on my heels, and dash down the hall to his room. A room, I might add, that now has the rest of my clothes. What I don’t have here is my bed and the rest of my furniture from my apartment, along with my other belongings. Something that will have to be rectified. Lynch isn’t about to let me stay living separately from him, and honestly, I don’t want to.
Too much time as it is has passed, and I want to enjoy every minute I can with Lynch. Especially if it means I get to ride on the back of his bike, with my arms around him, and the wind whipping around us, I wouldn’t want it any other way.
“Hop off, Cams,” Lynch orders, patting my thigh hours later.
We rode for a while. Lynch took us to a back road where he went down a lane where no one else could see us and screwed me on the back of his bike. This was yet another fantasy I always had but never thought I’d experience with him.
Afterward, we got back on the road. It was heaven, completely freeing, and I loved every minute.
Even when he pulled into a little hole in the wall, I recognized but hadn’t been to in years. Not since I last came with him before leaving for college. They have the best po’ boys I’ve ever had.
Placing my hands on his shoulders, I climb off the back of his bike and take my helmet off as he follows suit. He takes my helmet from me, settles it on the handle, and sets his on the seat.
Lynch takes my hand and guides me to the entrance while I ignore the other people milling around. I’m in heaven just being here with Lynch and not worried about anything else. He’s all that matters.
This very moment in time is all that matters.
Our time.
Mine and Lynch’s.
Goofy as it sounds, I like it.
Together we step into the building, and with his hand just above my ass, he ushers me over to a high-top table. He takes a seat with his back to the wall. I know he’s doing this to be able to see who’s coming and going. As he said, he doesn’t want to be blindsided.
“What can I get ya?” an older woman asks, holding a pen and pad in her hands, looking at the two of us while popping a piece of gum between her lips.
“Two po’ boys and beers,” Lynch answered, giving her the order.
“You got it,” she says, dropping her gaze to write the order down. “I’ll get those beers. You want tap or bottle?”
“Bottle,” Lynch replies, furrowing a brow while tilting and reaching in his pocket.
“Gotcha.” The waitress wanders off as Lynch pulls his phone out to look at the screen.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters, swipes his finger over the screen, and lifts the phone to his ear. “Fuse, what’s going on?” His body tenses at whatever Fuse is telling him on the other end of the line. “Right, we’re on the way to the clubhouse.” Pulling the phone from his ear, his jaw visibly tight, and his fingers tight around the phone. His eyes locked on me.
“What’s going on?” I ask and swallow nervously.
“Someone set the house on fire,” he growls, getting to his feet. “We’ve got to go.”
At his saying fire, I’m on my feet, ready to follow. He pulls out a twenty from his wallet and tosses it on the table. Granted we hadn’t even taken a first sip of beer. Lynch grabs my hand and guides me through the building and out to the bike.
Nothing needs to be said between us. I honestly don’t know what I should say. I mean, yeah, this has me freaked out. I’ve lost all my clothes now, and my briefcase that had the files and my laptop in it, but those files, I keep copies of them and also scan them into the laptop, which is backed up on a cloud server I use so I won’t lose anything important.
What I do know is that house was Lynch’s. It might have been bare, but it was his, and now, it’s been set on fire.
Outside, I take my helmet from him, quickly put it on, jump on the back of his bike once he’s on, and wrap my arms around his waist. A second later, without warning, he squeezes the throttle and takes off, riding like a madman. I’m not sure what’s going on in his head, but whatever it is, it’s screwing with his head.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
LYNCH
Fury sings in my veins, leaving me more than ready to wreak havoc on the ones responsible for burning my house down. It’s not that I give an actual fuck about the place itself, but the fact it was the home I bought for Camilla, and I only just got her back in my life. Got her back where she belongs. At my side. In my bed.
On the way to the clubhouse, my anger only grew, and upon stepping inside, I didn’t let go of Camilla’s hand while I found Fuse and the others to find out the damage. Finding them isn’t a problem as they’re all standing around a table, their heads bent, looking at some papers.
Several of them twist in my direction when I make my way toward them. “How bad’s the damage?”
