Affliction Page 62

“I’m so sorry, Sy,” I cry against him. He doesn't say anything. He holds me as I cry for a beautiful child named Keira. Crying for the family he lost, I cry wondering how the loss of the baby we shared could ever compare to that.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Sy

“You ready to go?” I ask through the door, my patience wearing thin the longer she stays in there. It's Kadence and Nix's welcome home party, and the longer she takes in there, the longer it is until I can get her back home. We've been laying low the last couple of days. After the other night when I opened up about Keira, things have been different. Not in a fucked-up way, but something has shifted in both of us. I feel like I can move forward with Holly without having this over us. And I feel like she gets why I am the way I am. We still yet to talk about Katie. I put up my walls on that subject. Talking about Keira has been enough for me, but I know it's something we have to talk about. Eventually, I will have to tell her that I walked out on Katie. That I left her after multiple suicide attempts and drug overdoses. That I walked while she was grieving the death of our child, and haven't gone back. One day I will tell her all the things I wish didn't happen. Today just isn't the day.

“Yeah, give me five more minutes,” she shouts.

“We’re late, Holly,” I declare, getting pissed the longer she takes. I don’t like waiting at the best of times, but waiting for my woman to leave the bathroom is high on the list of shit that pisses me off.

“Oh, hush. You can leave any time, Sunshine. I’m driving remember?” she replies, reminding me she has an early start tomorrow.

“Why is the door closed anyway?” I ask, opening it without seeking permission to barge in.

“Habit,” she answers, looking up at me through the mirror.

“Babe, we’re going to a barbecue,” I tell her when I see the short number she has on and a pair of fuck-me heels to go with it. Jesus, this woman is a fucking knockout and she's mine. Mine. I never thought I would claim another woman again, but after the last few months, it’s become more than just a desire to have her. It’s a yearning for something more than lust. It torments my every thought. Even as I fought an internal battle of denying myself her touch, I knew she was different. I wanted to let her in past the walls of hard concrete I surrounded myself with. I wanted her to break them down and replace the ice encompassing my heart with her warmth. Looking back to when I saw her lying on the floor of that old shed, my hands covered in her blood, I realize the fear running through my veins that night was a fear that confirmed the feelings I had been denying.

“So what, Sy? I like to dress up,” she explains, going back to her makeup. She leans over the counter closer to the mirror and I have to stop myself from taking her there and then as she’s bent over in those heels. Fuck me.

“Baby, it’s a biker clubhouse, not the fucking Ritz.” I try to get her to see how pointless this whole exercise is.

“Sunshine…” She turns, ready to give me attitude and I can’t help but smile. “Quit smiling for starters, and who really cares if I’m dressing up?” she questions, her hand going to her hip. Total fucking drama. Total fucking peace.

“Well, if you keep turning up at the clubhouse like that, Hunter will get the wrong idea. He already thinks you like him,” I tease, knowing Hunter became a pawn in Holly’s flirty behavior just to piss me off.

“I’m not interested in Hunter, you goof.” She rolls her eyes looking cute as fuck.

“He doesn’t know that,” I add, knowing he does. I just like pushing her.

“Yes, he does, Sy. He knows I love you,” she says and I watch her hand still as she applies some sticky shit to her lips.

“You love me?” I ask, not at all freaked out at hearing her say it.

“Well, not love love you, more like I love your cock.” She replaces the lid to her lip shit and rubs her lips together, trying to hide her slip-up. A classy recovery, I’ll give her that.

“So, you just love my cock then?” I move closer to her, wanting her to admit what she just slipped.

“Well, I love you filling up my pantry,” she smirks, acting cute again.

“Anything else?” I lean into her space, pushing her lower back into the basin.

“I love it when I get to punch you in our gym workouts,” she adds, looking up at me.

“You love me?” I whisper, resting my head to hers.

“Maybe.” She looks away, unsure.

“Maybe?”

“Okay, a little, but only this week. If you're not careful, I’ll revoke that love right back,” she jokes, making me fall a little more.

“You can’t take it back,” I say before kissing her. Hard. Her hands come to my cut, pulling me closer as I pick her up by her waist and place her on the vanity. I move between her legs to get closer to her.

“Wow,” she breathes when I pull back. Her hands come up and wipe my mouth of that sticky shit she left behind.

“You know you don’t need that shit, right?” I ask, running the back of my hand on my lips to wipe the last bits.

“Umm, yes, I do.” She rolls her eyes at me. “And now you’ve messed it all up.” She turns to look at herself in the mirror. I don’t know what she’s on about. I’ve seen her done up, waking up, and sweaty at the gym and it wouldn’t matter to me. I still think she’s sexy either way.