Page 90 of The Price of Love

She shakes her head. “Just having a rough night.”

“Hey, it’s me. Talk to me.”

She walks to her mini-fridge and pulls out two beers. “Have a drink with me?”

“Of course.”

She twists the cap off one and hands it to me before opening the second. We sit at the tiny table in the corner of her room. It’s just big enough for two people, and our knees will bump if we put our legs under the table, so we usually sit sideways.

Tonight, I turn so I’m facing her. I want to see her entire face while we talk. She hesitates for a moment before she swings around. Her knees bump mine, and we both laugh.

“I suppose we should’ve met in your luxury penthouse,” she teases.

“I’ve got my underwear hanging up to dry, but you’re always welcome.” It’s not true, but I wanted to make her laugh.

“Eww. Cozy is fine.” She smiles and pokes her knee into my thigh.

I take a swig of my beer. “What’s going on with you?”

She shrugs.

“Something felt off last night, but I left you be. Now I find you with raccoon eyes. Talk to me.”

“I don’t have raccoon eyes.” She glowers. “I didn’t wear any makeup today.”

“You’re stalling.”

I take another drink of my beer. She still hasn’t touched hers. She looks into my eyes and picks up her bottle. Her hand is shaking hard enough I’m afraid she’ll spill her beer.

She sets it down without taking a drink. “Any more questions?”

I know what she’s trying to tell me, so I choose my words carefully. I want to put my hand over hers to stop the trembling, but something tells me to give her space.

“You haven’t been like this in a long time,” I say.

She nods and begins rubbing her hands together. Usually, it’ll do the trick, but I doubt it will tonight.

“What needs to happen here?” I’m no counselor, but over the years, I’ve learned when she’s like this, asking her this way works best. It’s my way of asking what she needs from me, but it’s too much for her if I ask directly.

“I don’t know.” Her eyes are full of sadness.

Fucking Frost. We’re still mourning the loss of Aces, and now she’s threatening the stability of the club. And I know beyond anything, Dimples craves stability. She’d never had it in her life until she patched in.

Seeing Dimples like this causes the fire inside me to burn. Nearly five fucking months since Aces passed, and I’m letting cracks form. I might not muster what I need for myself, but I should for Dimples. I will for Dimples.

I put my hand over hers. “I love this club. And I love you. And Frost ain’t gonna fucking destroy any of this.”

“It’s been good, hasn’t it?” she says in a quiet voice.

“It’s been the fucking best.” As I gaze into Dimples’ eyes, something inside me stirs. Who the fuck is Frost to tear it down?

She smiles. It doesn’t quite bring out a dimple, but it’s a start. I squeeze her hand.

“Do you still believe in me?” I’m not sure why I ask, but it seems important to hear that she does.

“You’re one of the few things I do believe in.” A twinkle plays in her eyes. “You and Santa Claus.”

I grin, knowing she needs to lighten the mood. “Then I’d say I’m in damned good company.”