Wingman [Woman]
Page 49He nods. “And you care about him?”
“That’s beside the point—”
“Do you fuckin’ care about him?” he snaps, cutting me off.
“I change my mind,” I mumble, crossing my arms. “I don’t want to be an old lady. You bikers are broody.”
Addi laughs and says, “Don’t mind him. Just answer the question, honey. Did you care about him?”
I sigh. “Yes, of course. I love him.”
They all stare at me.
“Then what the hell are you doing?” Ciara cries. “Make that bitch cry for what she’s done.”
“How?” I ask.
Spike and Cade grin at each other. “All you need, sugar,” Cade smirks, “is proof.”
Proof.
Why the fuck didn’t I think of that?
“I change my mind again. You’re a fucking genius, biker!” I screech, clapping my hands.
“So I just have to get proof,” I say, then my smile fades. “How do I do that?”
“Simple,” Serenity pipes up. “Record her.”
I ponder this and a slow grin spreads across my face. “Record her I can do.”
“All you gotta do is be your sassy self, go back to work, show Reign what he’s missing and in the meantime, carry around a recorder. If you have an iPhone, there will already be one on there. When you’re with her, turn it on and hopefully you can pick it up. If you’re smart, you could set up her up,” Spike offers.
“She won’t trust me right away,” I say, rubbing my chin. “But it’s possible.”
“Then your problem is solved,” Cade says. “Simple.”
I smile and take another shot.
“Speak of the devil,” Spike mutters.
“Holy mother,” Addison breathes. “I just saw fucking sex on legs walk into the bar.”
“Oi,” Cade barks at her. “Eyes over here, sugar.”
She waves a hand. “You know I love you, but shit . . . Tia . . . is that your man?”
I turn and a sexy smile appears on my face. Reign has just stepped into the bar and fuck, he does look like sex on legs. He’s wearing a pair of black jeans that aren’t too tight, but aren’t too loose either. He’s got on a tight-fitting red-and-black shirt and his hair is messy, like he’s simply run his fingers through it. He’s got a few days growth on his jaw and fuck, he looks good: all bulging muscles and bad boy brooding.
“Damn,” Serenity mutters.
“I agree,” Ciara says, nodding in appreciation.
“Will you girls fuckin’ stop eye-fuckin’ him,” Spike growls.
The girls turn away sheepishly, and crawl over to their men. I stand and start towards Reign. His eyes find me and widen. Oh, shit; I forgot I look like a street bum. Too late now. I walk towards him and stop about a foot away. He tilts his head and studies me, before simply saying, “You’re drunk.”
“Nice to see you too, Reign. I’ve really missed you.”
His lip quirks. “See you’ve not left your sass at home.”
“Of course. Would you expect any less?”
He shakes his head. “No.”
“What’re you doing here?”
He looks over to Spike and nods his head. “Got some business to take care of.”
I press my hand to my chest. “So you didn’t come for me? I’ll die!” I wail.
He grins finally, and it hits me like sunshine on a rainy day: all fresh and beautiful, taking away the misery. He leans down and kisses my forehead. “Good to see you, Tia.”
I turn and follow him as he approaches the table. Spike reaches up and shakes his hand, then adds, “Here’s a beer. Sit down.”
He thrusts a beer at Reign, who takes it and spins a chair around backwards, sitting on it and facing the group. Someone makes a lusty sound and I smother a laugh. Addi stands up and takes my hand, pulling me to the bar with the excuse of “getting another drink.”
“Oh my God,” she says when we get there. “He’s super hot.”
“Yeah,” I say, looking back at Reign.
“And he totally fucks you with his eyes. That’s a good sign.”
“You think?” I ask, tapping the bar to get the bartender’s attention.
“Oh, most definitely. Get a shot; we’re going to dance. I’m going to get the lowdown on that big guy, but my guess is that he absolutely wants you.”
“And dancing will show that . . . how?”
“Oh, easy.”
I take my shot and she drags me out to the dance floor. We start dancing and within minutes, two men have approached us. With a flick of her hand, Addi sends them my way. I gape at her as she blows me a kiss and skips off the dance floor. That shithead. Luckily for me, I’m drunk enough to go with the flow. The men are good looking, so I start dancing with them.
Within five minutes, Reign has stopped talking to Spike and is shooting daggers at the two lots of hands on my hips. Grinning, I throw my hands up and twist about, grinding myself against them. Less than a minute later, Reign’s hand is on my arm and he’s tugging me out from between them. He spins me around, glaring down at me.