Page 5 of Forced Proximity
Two
Just found out that I’m part of the problem. But that’s okay. It feels good to be a part of something.
—Apollo’s secret thoughts
APOLLO
“Yeah?” I answered as I headed for the coat check and got my jacket from the man that’d taken it earlier, as planned.
“You ignored my calls earlier, asshole,” my best friend and fellow club brother, Knight, grumbled. “What the fuck?”
“Business as usual,” I grumbled. “What’s up? How’s Elaine?”
“She’s fine. We’re just worried about you.”
I sighed. “I’m fine. Just following someone at the moment.”
Knight didn’t find that odd, so he didn’t even address it.
Instead he asked, “Will you make it home for my birthday?”
Knight’s birthday was literally next week.
“You know I wouldn’t miss that.” I laughed.
Why?
Because Elaine made the best damn cookies ever, and she always made sure to have plenty for everyone.
“Good,” he grumbled. “Be careful.”
After I promised I would be, I hung up and pocketed my phone before glancing up at the coat check guy who’d taken my coat earlier.
He smiled at me timidly before handing it over.
I palmed him a hundred-dollar bill, then carried my coat out of the building with it slung over my forearm.
I was reaching into my coat pocket to pull out the note that the coat checker had left for me when I saw her coming outside.
She was right on the heels of Eugene, sticking to the shadows as she hurried to follow behind him.
Intrigued, I watched from my own set of shadows as she waited for his car to be brought around by the valet.
Intrigued beyond belief—because curiosity was my downfall, and I could never let something that caught my curiosity go—I headed to my own car to follow the girl.
Eugene got to the car and tossed the guy a wadded-up twenty before he dropped down into the car that was more of a statement than a quality car, and sped away.
I watched as the stunning woman—even dressed up as circumspect as she could be with black skinny jeans pasted onto every curve, and that tight as fuck long-sleeve black top with the scoop neck that revealed that badass windchime tattoo on the back of her neck—took off behind him in what was obviously a rental car.
She was swerving all over the road in it, which meant to me she’d never driven such a responsive car.
But I commended her efforts.
Had she not gotten a flashy car, she would’ve stuck out worse.
Smart and sexy as hell.
Eugene drove like a bat out of hell, but like most people who came up here, they didn’t care that it would get them nowhere when they did. DC traffic was stupid busy and there wasn’t a person alive who could get through it any faster than the next.
