“No more biker meetings in my club,” Tony said when they reached the granite-topped counter. “Especially if you’re planning on getting slapped again. Slapping, spanking and other forms of discipline are limited to the private room in the back. Surely there are other places you could have had your meeting—places with less chance of you being recognized? Don’t they have a clubhouse?”
“I’ll bet you know more about them than I do,” James said dryly. “You seem to know everything about everybody.”
Tony snorted. “I know I don’t want them back in my club. Rex already asked for a membership form, and I have a feeling he won’t take kindly to being turned down.”
“It won’t happen again.” James placed his order with the bartender and pointed him toward Ryder at a table in the corner. “Thanks for the help back there.”
Tony reached over the counter and grabbed a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. “You going after her?”
“She hates me. I walked out on her two years ago to take the assignment. No warning. No explanation. I told myself I was protecting her. And me.”
In short, he’d been an ass. But he’d known he couldn’t sustain a relationship, and especially not one as intense as what they had together. He couldn’t go through the pain of losing someone he cared about again. Better to end it sooner rather than later.
Tony chortled. “If I were her, I’d hate you too. Doesn’t mean you can’t go after her. Maybe apologize.”
“The past is past.” James took the glass of whiskey Tony offered. “I helped her out of a sticky situation tonight. Evened the score.”
Time to move on. The reasons behind his decision to leave her hadn’t changed. Now, more than ever, he knew his instincts had been right. Seeing her again, his blood fired up after their verbal altercation, his cheek burning from the imprint of her hand, his cock throbbing from the soft press of her body against him, he felt dangerously alive. But he knew too well her fire burned with an intensity he couldn’t handle.
Tony poured himself a shot of whiskey. “There’s a fine line between love and hate, but at the root of both is passion. If she’d been indifferent to you, then I would agree, there’s no point. But I didn’t see indifference. I saw passion. A hell of a lot of passion.”
“You’re beginning to sound more like a psychologist than a lawyer.” James shot back the bitter liquid, savoring the smooth burn before it scorched its way down his throat.
“I wasn’t always a lawyer.”
Eyebrows raised, James spun his glass on the table. “I heard rumors that you’d had a colorful past. Not that being a psychologist qualifies as colorful…”
“I suppose it depends on what you do with the psychology degree,” Tony murmured, cutting him off.
For a moment James considered pursuing the line of conversation, but the arrival of Trixie, the club receptionist, drew Tony’s attention and James filed the information away for later. Although Tony was a good friend, he’d always been guarded about his past and if he had something he wanted to share, James would let him do it on his own time.
“So, are you giving me relationship advice as a psychologist or as a lawyer?”
“As a friend.” Tony’s gaze remained fixed on Trixie’s curvy bounce as she walked a nervous young woman up to the bar.
Trixie glanced up and caught Tony and James watching her. Her cheeks flushed and she flashed them a warm smile. Generous, creamy breasts strained against the top of the tight, red corset dress encasing her voluptuous body. Her shiny red stilettos tapped in time to the bass pounding through the speakers. Although the multiple facial piercings and spiked platinum hair weren’t James’s taste, her warmth and bubbly personality had made her one of the most popular staff members in the club.
Tony turned away and Trixie’s smile faded. There was an obvious attraction between her and Tony, but as far as James knew, Tony had never acted on it. For all the relationship advice he gave to his clients and friends, he couldn’t see what was staring him in the face.
“Maybe you’re right.” Tony drummed his fingers on the table and sighed. “Women add unnecessary complications to life. Might be better not to reopen old wounds. Especially when you’re undercover.”
James nodded his agreement, pleased Tony had been on the list of people cleared to be informed of his undercover status. His request list had been small: His dad, Lana, Mark and Tony. He’d added Lana to the list on a whim despite thinking he would never see her again.