Page 18 of Smooth As Whiskey

Tagging the tub of vanilla yogurt, I then headed to the pantry and grabbed the granola.

Just as I turned to set my things on the island, I heard someone snort, “You get branded last night?”

Yep, I was sure that if my cheeks hadn’t been flaming earlier, they were now.

And I knew exactly what she was referring to. Damn Gabby.

Sighing, I tagged my bowl and settled onto a bar stool.

Just then, Irish walked into the kitchen, tagging the last plate with the last omelet on it.

I watched him walk to a table, sit, and chow down.

But him not looking at me as he entered had my heart hurting. Damn, but how many times was he going to do this?

To hide my hurt and the direction my thoughts were going, I tried to ignore him as I ate my yogurt and granola.

It wasn’t until he shifted in his seat that I realized how I, too, had shifted on my bar stool so I could keep him in my sights.

I watched as he apparently finished his omelet, stood, and then brought the plate to Gabby, winked at her, and then walked out, all the while ignoring me.

My shoulders dropped; I couldn’t help it.

What more did I need to do to show that man how I felt about him?

My eyes went to Gabby as she grabbed a hand towel to dry her hands after she cleaned up Irish’s mess, and then she lowered her voice and said, “Honey, as far as I know, he hasn’t slept with any of the other club girls.”

I inhaled a breath as I tried to keep the tears at bay, but when one of them rolled down from the corner of my eye, I didn’t even try to catch it and smiled, but I knew it was weak. “I know. Pres is getting pretty pissed off at him, I do know that. He claims I’m his, but he won't do anything about it either. He warns all the brothers that try to come onto me, too.”

Gabby nodded, then asked, “He doesn’t want you but doesn’t want anyone else to have you?”

I nodded solemnly. “Maybe it's time to move on. We’ve been doing this dance for a year and a half now.”

“You going to try to be with one of the other brothers tonight?” She asked.

“I’m thinking about it. But I just… I don’t want whoever it is to get hurt. You saw what happened the last time a brother from another chapter grabbed me around the waist while we weredancing.” I shuttered after remembering in grave detail what had happened.

The guy that I had been dancing with had wrapped his hand around my back to pull me in closer, something so simple.

But where his hand had landed? It was right at the top of my ass. It really was nothing, but it wasn’t too Irish.

He had stormed over there, grabbed the man’s hand, and wrenched his arm back too far. We all heard a pop when he dislocated the guy's shoulder.

As if that wasn’t enough, Irish had grabbed me, pulled me behind him, and then, while he still held onto the guy's arm, he maneuvered him to the ground roughly then, with one of his steel-toe boots, he slammed it down hard into his side.

And that was how that other guy suffered four broken ribs, a punctured lung, and a dislocated shoulder, not to mention torn tendons.

I shook my head at the memory and heard Gabby say, “You can always talk to Asher.”

“I could, but after what happened with Hallie this morning, I don’t want to stir up any more drama.”

Because Hallie had broken one of the bigger rules that we club girls had.

She had been poking condoms with needles in hopes of getting knocked up by Whit.

Needless to say, once it was discovered, which was earlier this morning, while Irish and I poked our heads out of his room, we didn’t need any more drama.

But just as I thought that, I heard the door to the clubhouse open, and from where I was sitting, I only had to tilt my head to see who it was.

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