Page 52 of Clashing
The muscles in my arms, shoulders, and back screamed until I relented. I braced my hands on my knees and panted. In the corner, the dogs watched me with knowing looks.
I waved my hand at them. “Let it go.” I shouldn’t have gone so hard but . . .
It was Friday. There was no escaping her.
Once I cleaned up, I rode to Danny’s. While I waited at the stoplight right before the bar, I spotted Scarlett in booty shorts. She fussed around a big object with her tailgate open. I cursed her in my head but when the light changed, I parked in that very alley.
I dismounted my bike, removed my helmet, and approached. The big square thing turned out to be a stereo, and she already had it covered with a sheet in the truck bed. She secured a tie over the top.
I stroked my jaw. “Moving?”
“No.” She caught her lip between her teeth, her gaze sensuous and dangerous as it crawled over me. “Selling it.”
Fuck, I loved the way she always checked me out. “Why?” I leaned against her truck, arms crossed. “You love listening to music.”
Her apartment always had music playing, and she’d asked me to put some on at my place a couple times. She didn’t care what kind. She just wanted noise.
“Yeah.” She lifted a shoulder. “But I need money, and I have my headphones, so I’ll live.”
“What do you need money for?” She shouldn’t sell her shit. “I can lend you money.”
“No.” Her firm tone aggravated me. She’d accept my cock, but not my help.Why does that bother me?“No one’s lending me money. I can take care of myself.”
So much like Danny.I drummed my fingers against my bicep. What if some asshole took advantage of her? “You won’t get a fair deal at a pawn shop.”
“I’m not going to a pawn shop. I listed it online and someone wants to see it.”
“Wait.” A muscle in my jaw ticked. “Are you about to meet some stranger from the internet?”
“Oh, God.” She braced her hands on her hips and preemptively rolled her eyes. “Here we go.”
“Yeah, Scar, here we fucking go. Why would you do that by yourself? Wearing those fucking shorts?”
“Jesus Christ, Ryker.” She slammed the tailgate shut. “It’s not a big deal. I’m meeting him in a public plac—”
“Him?”
She retrieved her keys from her pocket, and they clanked together when she pointed at me. “Relax, psycho. I’m meeting him in public so there’s people around, and he doesn’t know where I live. I’m not an idiot.”
“We’remeeting him.” I held out my hand. “Keys.”
“What? No.” She stepped back, and I wanted to spank her until that stubborn glint in her pretty eyes muted. “You’re so overprotective.”
I followed as she retreated. “Keys.”
“Ugh.” She stomped to the driver’s side. “You can tag along, but you aren’t driving my truck.”
“I’m going to smack that ass raw.”
She flipped me off and climbed into the truck. I sat in the passenger seat and was about to speak but she started the ignition and blasted the music, then smacked my hand when I reached for the volume knob.
“Goddammit, Scarlett,” I growled.
“What?” She pointed to her ears. “Can’t hear you.”
The cheeky smile she gave before the vehicle lurched forward made me question whether I wanted to kiss or punish her.Both.Definitely both. She rolled down the window and let her hand hang out, bobbing her head to the music.Why do my lips twitch up when she does that?
Ten minutes later, we pulled into a grocery store parking lot. Scarlett parked, then retrieved her phone. She killed the engine, and the music turned off with it. Her curly hair stuck to her neck as she pushed it out of the way and lifted her phone to her ear.
