Page 40 of Throttle

Bullet whistles. “Your girl in trouble?”

“She’s not my girl and I’m not sure yet. But can you get it?”

He looks over at the bar, watching Tequila dunk glasses in and out of the soapy water. She's leaning forward, revealing cleavage, and there’s rage. Red intense fury inside me.

“Eyes over here, brother.”

Bullet grins. “Uh, huh. Not your girl. Anyway, if it’s an address you want. It’s an address I’ll get. Make sure you don't mention my name when she cuts your dick off.”

She might do just that.

“Thanks. Appreciate it.”

“Not a problem. This old man is going to fucking bed. Later.”

I'm worn out, but I stay put while Tequila finishes her closing shift responsibilities. I'm consistently her escort after dark, or someone from the club will fill in if I can't. Many of our enemies lurk in the darkness, preying on women who are alone at night.

She should use her intelligence and leave, finding a safer work environment until she completes her degree, with no intention of returning. Distance herself from the Steel Valley Chains and from me.

Her hair cascades behind her shoulder seductively as she moves her hips toward me.

It's just the two of us now. Everyone else is either gone or unconscious somewhere.

As she gets nearer, the air becomes more suffocating. I'm not sure what's happening to me, but resisting my best friend is becoming more difficult. Keeping my hands off her is a daily challenge I’m left to face, and it’s not something I’m used to.

“You don’t have to wait for me every time.”

She’s fucking with me, right? Since the day she started working here, I've sat and waited for her to finish her shifts.

I position myself in front of her and fold my arms across my chest. “Not gonna happen, babe. I haven’t missed a night of walking you to your car and I ain’t stopping now.”

She huffs out a breath, following a grunt. It’s cute. “Fine, but I’m still mad at you. Let’s go.”

With a grin, I refrain from questioning the marks on her arm, knowing that I will find out soon. Bullet is going to come through and then me and my Tequila Rose will have a friendly chat.

As we make our way to her car, she hugs her torso tightly, shivering.

“You know it’s like forty degrees out. Maybe next time you should bring a damn coat.”

“Yeah, guess that would have been a good idea.”

I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her close to me.

Our connection used to be effortless. No petty meltdowns. No jealous fits. But lately… I can’t seem to control myself when she’s near. What the fuck does this mean? Will having my best friend close bring us chaos?

She fusses with her purse, attempting to locate her keys.

“Tequila. Babe. Don't forget, if I'm not around, be prepared to use your keys as a weapon.”

She looks like she's about to cry, and it catches me off guard. When I hook both protective arms surrounding her, I tighten my grip. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick. Remember, I'm head over heels for the sweet woman at the bar, and the idea of anything happening to you drives me crazy.”

“Throttle, I don't understand why you constantly think something bad will happen to me. I’m a big girl who can take care of myself.”

“I know. It’s just… the shit that happens around here. With our club. And—”

“This was my choice to work here. To be a part of the club life. I decided by myself and found one of the best friends ever. I don’t regret it.” She attempts to pull away, but I refuse to let her go. “Throttle.”

I enjoy having her close to me, with her lips appearing soft. It eats at me, what they would be like on mine. Should I kiss her?

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