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Fuck.I forgot about the sex club.
I willnotbe finishing this conversation later, but I let him think that just so he’ll leave. Having him around is fucking with my head.
With one last lingering glance, I watch him go, the closing door bringing about a finality that rattles me to my core.
Mason Carpenter just kissed me. Again. And for real this time.
Me . . . a sweaty, greasy mess and the sister to enemy number two.
And he kissed me like he was starved for a taste.
Hannah
Rummie’s looks like shit during the day.
Stepping out of my little yellow bug, it’s easy to see the years of wear and tear on the old building that’s not prevalent during the day. The iron bars are suddenly glaring you in the face, as is the group of thugs that stands off to the side of the building, talking in hushed tones.
This is the part of Inglewood everyone talks about. The rough part.
I’ve seen the rest of it. It’s not bad. The people here are some of the nicest I’ve ever met and even with the evidence of poverty, no one has a problem helping each other out. There’sa community around the garage and luckily, they’ve accepted Mason and his business as their own. No one bothers the shop.
Here, it’s evident that people don’t care as much. At least not the people hanging around a dingy bar on a Friday afternoon.
I slip inside, thanking the heavens it’s not as crowded as it was the other night. There’s no evidence of Bill and his gally of biker friends, no snobby women to belittle me, and no handsy men to grope my ass as I make my way through the dark bar toward the person I came to see.
“H—hello.” I’m ashamed that my voice cracks, so I square my shoulders. I’m Hannah freaking Gaines. I’ve been speaking to people my entire life.
The brunette’s chocolate-brown eyes narrow on me and a smirk pulls on her lips.
“Been wondering when you would be back, Red.”
She nods to the stool in front of her and I slip into the seat while she grabs a glass, raising a brow expectantly.
“Um . . . just water, thanks.”
She shoots me another look but concedes and slides a bottle of water across the scuffed wood bar at me.
“So, I take it you aren’t here for the drinks, then?”
I take a drink, willing my nerves to calm down. No easy feat considering I just had the object of every single one of my dirty fantasies tongue down my throat an hour ago.
I’m afraid I’ll have a permanent stutter in my voice for the rest of my life.
“No. I actually came to see you. I never caught your name the other night.”
If suspicion were a physical thing, it would present itself as her twin.
“Britt,” she murmurs, shaking my hand with the power of an ox. ”Look, whatever business you came here for, I can’t help you. I just work here.”
“I know,” I nod, hoping I give a gentle smile and not a garish grin. Judging by the way she eyeballs me, I’m guessing I don’t succeed. “I actually came to ask a favor.”
“I don’t give out favors.”
“This isn’t anything extraneous.”
“I don’t know what that word means,” she counters and I grit my teeth.
Okay, so maybe I’m not the best at making friends, but Britt? She’s five thousand times worse than me.
