Page 33 of Flint

“You know it was club business you were walking into. You can’t expect your old man to be happy about you getting involved.” He shrugs as he leans against the wall, hands in his jeans. Fuck, that’s hot.

“First, he ain’t my old man—he’s old and just a man, but he’s a father first. He should know by now, especially how you all raised me, that I can take care of myself.” She turns after zipping up her bag to look at him. “And two, it wasn’t club business. It was mine. It was about me and had nothing to do with the club.”

He shakes his head, and I get the feeling this is an old argument. “The sooner you realize you’re club business, the better. Anything that goes against you is a direct threat to us. We don’t get many princesses. You really can’t be that naive to think we would just sit back and do nothing.”

“Fine, do something,” she relents but doesn’t slow down to apologize for her words. “But can you at least pretend and let me think I did something? Would it kill you all so much to do the shit without me knowing and after I got a few kicks in? A girl’s going to get a complex if she thinks someone will always defend her and she doesn’t need to do it herself. Or tell your president that if he wants to make sure nothing happens to me, then give me the courage to take shit on myself. How else will I know how to get out of something bad if I’m never given the chance to learn from this minimal shit that means nothing?”

He nods as he straightens “Point, Ruby, I’ll give you that. I’ll talk with him. Not saying that once I do, he won’t pin a brother on your ass to make sure the scenario doesn’t happen, but I’ll try.”

She cozies up to him, but only enough to give him a side hug. A brief one at that. Then she looks me in the eye. “Thanks, big bro. If I had to choose a brother, glad it’s you.” Ahh, okay. I get it. Subtle, girl, subtle. He ain’t yours and never will be. So no need to plot her murder or anything. I give her a small smile, which she returns.

I’m so fucked if my little crush is becoming that obvious to others. I would think that being away from him might cure me, but it didn’t seem to work over the last few hours.

“You’re the only one in this place who is a little tolerable. The rest are fucking useless. I’m out. See you, tits. Flint, be nice to her. I like her and want to see her around,” she tosses out as she walks out of the room, not looking back.

“No guarantees.” He says it for me and me alone. I doubt anyone could have heard it since it was all growly and shit. Nice doesn’t seem like something he does much of. And why do I feel that the way he made no promises about it is for a completely different meaning? I’m reading some serious heat off the stare-down he’s giving me, and I’m not hating it at all.

We do this eye lock thing for a bit, and it’s not awkward. Actually, it becomes more intense, and I’m panting a bit but trying really hard not to show it by just breathing through my nose and not my mouth. Twenty bucks says I’ll pass out if we keep this up for another minute.

“Let’s get a drink, and then you can head home.” He holds out his hand and pulls me up from the bed.

Bed. We were so close to one. Why couldn’t we just... I don’t know, test it out and see if the springs work? That’s bad, right? Still asking for a friend.

“You mean we, bestie,” I remind him of his babysitting duties as I head out first. I actually know where I’m going on this trip, as Ruby’s room is close to the main area, and it’s a simple hallway to figure out.

“Actually, I mean you. Well, you and a prospect.”

I don’t even make it to the bar before I turn to look at him to explain more. “What, did they drop the pay from twenty bucks an hour to ten?”

He huffs a laugh and shakes his head, a smile teasing his lips as he puts his hand on my back and guides me to the bar. Not many people around it, but there are a few down at the other end.

“Give me a beer and a Diet Coke.”

Ahhh, he ordered my favorite drink. Swoon.

“Not like that, Kitten,” he explains. “Got to go out of town for a bit. Club business.”

“Hmm. You going someplace fun, at least?”

“Not unless you think sand and heat with no beach in sight is fun.”

“Well, that sucks.”

He grunts again and takes a drink of his beer. He kind of looks depressed, deep in thought. I can’t say I’m exactly happy about this. He’s the oldest friend I have—well, that I remember—even if he won’t agree that we’re friends.

But maybe my crush will go away a bit if he’s gone for longer than a twelve-hour period. Maybe. It’s worth experimenting on. Of course, if that’s the case, there really is no harm in asking.

“So, you want to fuck before you go?”

Chapter 14 – Flint

I

can handle my beer. Not saying I’m a pro, but I’ve been drinking since I was fifteen and can make a solid dent in a keg on my own. I know how to drink—hell, even won a few chugging contests with the boys. But when she says that, I act like it’s the first beer I’ve ever had and practically choke.

Fucking hell, only she would say something like that when I’m expecting something else. That’s the thing you look for in a vamp, not a civilian—an injured one at that.

But fuck, I don’t want a vamp. And before you cut off my balls, you have got to see this chick. She’s a knockout, and I ain’t being nice. The mud is gone. Before, I had no real idea how much was on her till she came out of the damn bathroom all clean and shit.

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