Page 105 of X's and O's
I nodded, watching the screen and the unknown car that had pulled up outside it. I leaned across to tap the “zoom out” button and groaned when a second vehicle came into focus. “Hold up,” I called to Aloha. “I’ll go. I know who it is.”
Aloha glanced back at the monitors, a look of relief settling over his face when he saw the ice cream van. “Tell X I’ll take a double vanilla cone.”
I shook my head. “Don’t encourage him. He’ll be here every morning, playing that awful music if he thinks he can make a sale.”
“Queenie would probably be mad if I wrecked this new healthy eating thing she’s got me on. I’m guessing ice cream for breakfast isn’t on the approved list of heart-healthy meals she keeps making me eat.” He cringed at me. “They all taste like fucking cardboard.”
I patted his shoulder as I walked past him. “You got awoman who cares about your health. Don’t take it for granted. Eat the cardboard and quit your bellyaching.”
He grumbled something beneath his breath, but we both knew I was right. Nobody needed to be eating ice cream for breakfast.
But that did raise the question of why X and Whip were here at this time of the morning.
I shoved my feet into the boots I’d left at the door the night before and trudged along the tree-lined path that led up the hill to the wrought-iron gates with the Slayers logo in the middle.
Whip stood on the other side, his arms folded across his broad chest, and stared at the useless prospect, sound asleep in a folding chair.
I frowned at the kid, his mouth hanging open, his snores disturbing the otherwise peaceful morning air. I was suddenly grateful for the abundance of cameras and alarms the club had installed. Because clearly our sentries were lacking.
“I tried waking him up, but the kid is out,” Whip offered.
I raised a boot to the side of the camping chair and gave it a solid shove.
The chair and the useless prospect in it both toppled to the dirt. Even then, it took him a second to open his eyes. When he did, he found Whip and I both staring down at him.
He scrambled back, shaking his head, trying to orient himself.
I just shook my head. “Open the gates. We’ve got visitors.”
He did a double take at the ice cream van and rubbed his eyes. “Am I still high or is there an ice cream van right there?”
I shoved past him, peering at the gate controls and shoving a finger to the button that seemed most likely to open the fucking things. They released slowly, and I slipped through the gap onto the other side, eyeing Whip once we were far enough away from the prospect to not be overheard.
I jerked my head down the hill and to the right. “I don’t know if Grayson is still here. He might have already gone to the hospital. But he wasn’t at the clubhouse, so he’d be down at his place if he hasn’t left yet. I guess you know where that is?”
Whip leaned on his car, seemingly in no hurry to move. “I do. Been here a couple times for various reasons. But I’m not here for Gray. I came to see you.”
Whip pulled out an envelope from his pocket and passed it to me. “This was beneath my windshield wiper when I left Violet’s place this morning.”
X shot a dirty look in Whip’s direction. “You just had to drop that in, all casual and braggy, didn’t you?”
My stomach rolled at the very thought of Whip spending the night in Violet’s bed. “You fuck her?” I asked bluntly, every word twisting my stomach.
Whip eyed me. “I don’t kiss and tell.”
Ugh, screw him. I knew I had no right to get worked up. Violet wasn’t mine to get possessive over. And yet I couldn’t help it. She wasn’t just some competition to me like she was to him. “She’s a fucking virgin, Whip.”
“I’m well aware.”
X groaned and dropped his hands down to the ground, his ass in the air, so he kinda made a teepee shape. Then he shifted forward to a plank position, before lowering down to the dirt and arching his back like he was a serpent.
Whip and I both stared at him, but it was me who spoke. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Yoga,” he said through gritted teeth. “Because your conversation about Violet’s virginity—” He glared at Whip. “Or possible lack of, is not good for my rage. And Doc said when I start wanting to murder people, like I do the two of you right now, I need to channel it elsewhere. And not into pulling out my knife and stabbing the two of you repetitively. So if you don’t want me to do that, I’ll ask that you let me finish my goddamn downward dog!”
He pushed his ass back up into the air.
Whip pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefingers. “I haven’t had enough coffee for any of this. I didn’t sleep with her, okay? You can quit rolling around in the dirt.” He switched his gaze to me. “And you can quit glowering at me. Her virginity is well intact. Not that it’s either of your business.”
