Page 6 of Ravaged and Ruined
My reply makes him smirk. He tilts his head like he’s considering the question and shrugs. “Both.”
I glance at the half-empty bottle in my hand, the crisp bite of the beer still lingering on my tongue. “Almost there.”
“Then can I get you another drink?”
I laugh, rolling my shoulders as I let myself get swept up in the energy of the room. I can feel Aero watching even though he’s across the room. His glare is a weight that presses down on me from across the room but I ignore it. I’m having an innocent conversation, it’s not like the man is flirting with me but even if he was I don’t have anything to feel guilty about, because no matter how many nights I spend wrapped around Aero, no matter how many times he pulls me into his bed, he still won’t let himself commit to me.
“I should probably finish this one first.” I arch a brow, taking a slow sip of my drink.
“I see you brought a bodyguard.” He says, his gaze flicking down to the dog that’s sitting at my feet, tail thumping softly on the floor. I glance down at Dog, who’s sitting with his back straight, ears perked, every inch of him alert. The man's eyes flicker with amusement, “I’m Garett.”
“I’m Lacey.” Tilting my head, I consider my options and the consequences. “I want to dance.”
His lips quirk, “Then let's dance.”
There’s a kind of freedom in this. Dancing, drinking, letting go. For a little while, it almost feels like nothing is missing. Like I’m not still chasing a man who refuses to let himself be caught.
I don’t have to look to know Aero’s eyes are still locked on me. I feel him watching. The weight of his stare is a familiar thing, a constant presence I should be used to by now but it still gets under my skin, still makes my pulse skip even as I tell myself not to care. I try to ignore Aero even though I’m secretly hoping that dancing with this man will kick Aero into action but so far nothing.
The door to the clubhouse swings open, and a tall blonde woman struts into the clubhouse like she owns the damn place. She’s followed by a crew of women all wearing matching black leathers with the Royal Harlots MC patch. Their presence immediately changes the atmosphere in the room. It’s like a storm coming in and impossible to ignore.
Aero is already making his way toward them, and I hate how it makes my shoulders straighten before I even realize I’m doing it. The woman is gorgeous. The kind of gorgeous that doesn’t try. Short blonde hair, loose and messy, with the sides shaved down just enough to look like she doesn’t give a damn. Every inch of her screams rebellion and freedom, hitting me square in the chest like a punch I wasn’t ready for.
Her blue-grey eyes are sharp, cutting through the room with a defiance that makes me wonder if she’d bite the hand that fed her just for the hell of it. She probably would. The cuff around her right forearm catches the light, it’s black leather with metal straps and spikes that look like they’d hurt if you got too close. She doesn’t need makeup to turn heads, and she damn well knows it. A thick smear of black eyeliner is the only thing she wears, making her eyes stand out even more, like she’s daring you to look a second too long and every man in the room is looking. She’s got a black leather cut thrown over a white tank top with an anarchy symbol painted across it in bold strokes. Low-slung blue jeans hang off her exposed hips, held up by a thick black belt with studded holes.
The sting of jealousy hits me before I can stop it. I push it down, trying to ignore the way my chest tightens, the way my mind screams for Aero to come to me instead but he doesn’t look back. He doesn’t even hesitate. He walks toward the woman and her crew like he’s got nothing to lose. Maybe he doesn’t, but I do.
I bite my lip, trying to force the thoughts away, but they cling, like a stubborn fog, and turn my attention back to Garett. He’s no longer dancing. The expression on his face is one of disappointment, matching my own. I guess that’s my fault, the fact that I’m hung up on Aero no matter how bad it hurts is obvious to everyone.
“I didn’t take you for the type to waste a good night lost in your head,” Garett says, his voice smooth and easy.
I arch a brow, taking a slow sip of my drink before responding. “I’m sorry. I guess I’ve been a bit distracted.”
His lips quirk. “If you ever get tired of this place, come find me. We could use someone like you at Ritorno Holdings.”
Garett reaches into his pocket, pulling out a sleek business card. He holds it out between two fingers, his gaze steady onmine. I take the card from his hand and glance at the name printed in crisp, bold lettering, Garett Ricci.
There’s tension behind Garett’s gaze that I didn’t notice until now. Garett is charming, sure with smooth words and an easy smile but Ritorno Holdings isn’t just some random business. It’s one I’ve heard whispered around this club. Maybe that’s why Dog is leaning against my legs a little harder now, his low growl rumbling through his chest like he senses something I don’t.
I shouldn’t even be considering this. Still, the thought lingers, wrapping around me with a dangerous kind of comfort. What if this is exactly what I need? A fresh start. A chance to focus on myself for once instead of waiting around for a man who can’t decide if he wants me or not. I’m tired of feeling like an afterthought. Tired of telling myself that the next time Aero pulls me close, he’ll finally let me stay. Maybe walking away is the only way to save myself from the heartache. Maybe this is how I finally move on.
“I’ll think about it.” I tuck the card into the strap of my dress, meeting his gaze once more.
He studies me for a second, like he’s trying to figure me out, then nods. “Do that.”
With one last glance, he steps back, disappearing into the crowd as easily as he’d appeared. Dog lets out a low growl, his body shifting closer, as if he senses the shift in me.
“Yeah, boy,” I drop my fingers to his head, smoothing them over his fur. “I know.”
My hands clench around the bottle as my eyes instinctively find Aero again across the crowded room. I take a sip of my beer, hating the way my stomach tightens. I hate the way I feel right now. Like I’m standing on the outside of something I’ve been trying to break into for months. Like I’m not enough.
I shake my head, forcing a smile as Zoey bumps my shoulder.
“You okay?” she asks quietly.
I turn my gaze away from Aero, fighting the sour taste in my mouth, and catch the concern in Zoey’s eyes. I force a smile. “I’m fine.”
It’s a lie, I’m not fine. There’s an ache in the pit of my stomach I can’t get rid of from the frustration of wanting someone so badly, knowing he’s just out of reach. I want his attention, but it’s like he’s deliberately avoiding me tonight and I hate that I care so much.
