Page 92 of Tinsel & Chrome

“Let’s go, trouble,” I said and grabbed her by the elbow.

“Wait, I need to find my mints,” she grumbled and tried to plant her feet to stop us from moving forward.

“No one's gonna get that close to you. Let’s get you to your hotel,” I said as I kept moving so she’d go with me.

“You don’t know that!” Sienna said, huffing but thankfully let me guide her onward.

As we approached by bike, Sienna stopped. As I gazed down at her the look on her face almost made me laugh, but I was still too annoyed to give into it.

“What’s wrong, trouble?” I asked.

“You ride a bike? How am I supposed to ride in these shoes?” Sienna asked as her face scrunched up in outrage.

“Take the fuckers off,” I said, sighing, agitated.

“You can drive my car,” Sienna said, her face brightening like she’d solved a problem.

“That isn’t happening. I will not leave my bike behind,” I said and walked forward; grabbing my helmet and extending my hand so she’d take it.

“I thought you were an angel, maybe you're just high maintenance,” she grumbled, staring at my hand with wild eyes, but not taking the helmet.

“I can promise you, I’m no angel, trouble. Now put the fucking helmet on,” I growled.

“Fine,” she huffed and exaggerated each syllable as she yanked the helmet out of my grasp.

What the fuck ever! Getting on my bike, I kicked the stand up and switched the ignition on, waiting for her to climb on behind me.

“So, what do I just hold my fucking shoes?” Sienna shouted over the loud pipes.

“You can use the saddle bag on the other side,” I gestured with my hand.

Sienna walked around my bag and I peered at her over my shoulder. She was really fucking pretty; too bad her mouth never stopped. She got the lid open after a minute and dumped her high heels on my laptop. With clumsy effort she got onto the seat behind me and grabbed me around the waist. It wasn’t unpleasant, but my head was starting to pound and I wanted to get home.

“What hotel are you staying at?”

“Oh fuck, I think it’s the Radisson or Ramada Shit, where is my key card?” Sienna starts rummaging through her fucking purse again.

Beginning to breathe in and out of my nose, slowly, I try to calm my nerves. This chic is getting on my last damn one.

After what felt like an eternity she says, “it’s not here. Shit! Can you just drive and I’ll recognize it and maybe the front desk can get me into my room,” Sienna said, as if that was the most reasonable thing in the world at 1 am.

“I’m not a fucking Uber! I’m taking you to the clubhouse,” I growled and pulled forward, Sienna shrieking as she grabbed onto my middle to hold on.

I glided along the streets of Mercy, faster than I needed to. Outrage churning through my body as I thought about having to deal with this chic another minute. My day had already been fucked up and I was not in the mood for this hassle. When I parked my bike, Sienna scrambled off the back. Once I was standing in front of her, I noticed she started to sway and I instinctively reached out and the next thing I knew the sound of her retching had me cursing as I saw what had landed on my boot.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” Sienna said as she put her hand over her mouth.

“What a great end to my night,” I grumbled as I stomped away to get the outside hose out to douse my boots.

Chapter 3

––––––––

Sienna

––––––––

So, maybe puking on your knight in shining armor wasn’t the best thing to do. But I never, in a million years, thought those tequila shots and margaritas were going to cause such havoc on my stomach. When was the last time I’d eaten anyway? Shit, I guess I really should have had something to eat before I’d hit the club. My lunch had apparently not cut it to give me a barrier for the alcohol.

---