Cocky Roomie_ A Bad Boy Romance Novel(42)
“I’m not going to fucking rehab! I’m not going!”
I was way in over my head. Again. It went on like that for hours.
And now I’m sitting at work, feeling like I escaped an insane asylum, and so glad I have somewhere to be where I won’t feel completely useless.
“Morning,” Don smiles as he walks in.
“Good morning, Don. Were you at the site?”
“I was.” He does a quick scan of the desk. “Making good headway, Drew.”
Offering him a smile, I admit, “You’re right. This will take weeks, but I don’t mind. I like finding the clues. It’s like a game.”
He laughs in disbelief. “Most people would think this task is very boring!”
“Most people are tired of working in general. Not me. I’m just glad to be here.” And boy do I mean that.
“My nephew’s plane took off an hour ago.”
Pausing, my smile falters. “I know.”
Don studies my reaction. “Jason called me and asked for your number. Said not to tell Jake. Is Jason interested in dating you?”
I blink a few times, too tired to understand the question. “I don’t think so. That would be really weird.”
“That’s what I thought. All of the Cockers are way too loyal to pull a stunt like that, when Jake clearly likes you.”
He has a strange way of showing that, sleeping with my friend while I’m in the other room.
“I don’t pretend to understand how men think, sir.”
Don laughs outright. “That goes both way with both sexes, doesn’t it? I told Jason I’d ask you. Wouldn’t want to overstep my bounds as your employer. Do you want me to give it to him?”
Why would Jason want to talk to me?
“Um…I don’t think so.”
“Alright then,” Don nods thoughtfully. “I’ll be in my office.”
“Okay.”
As soon as he’s gone, I read Jake’s text messages again.
I really need to stop doing this.
JETT COCKER
JUST OVER TWO WEEKS LATER.
With asphalt blurred under my wheels and the wind on my face, I nod to Honey Badger that the next exit will do just fine. He can’t wait to get where we’re goin’. True to his earned name, the guy is unstoppable and scary as shit to those he doesn’t like, even if he is round and soft looking. Ya really can’t judge a book by its cover all the time.
Five Harleys veer right, cutting in front of a big rig who doesn’t dare honk after he spots the patches on our backs that read, Ciphers, in Old English font. The man doesn’t want his cargo arriving late just because he had to go to a hospital.
Denver, Colorado.
Didn’t think we’d be coming this way again for a long time. We’ve been travelin’ the northern states for months now ever since spring began. We’re well into summer now and I prefer coming to Colorado when it’s covered in snow. I like to snowboard when I’m given the chance and the hills of this state are fuckin’ incredible. Scratch makes fun of me for that, but only ‘cause he can’t do it. Won’t even try. The pussy.
“Ya got the address?” Fuse shouts over the wind.
“What do you think?”
He smirks, “Lead the way then.”
“As if I was gonna let you lead it?” I shout back.
He laughs.
I know this terrain well. The street we’re headin’ to is familiar to me. Of our whole MC crew I have the best memory for directions. Fuse was just bustin’ my balls because that’s what we do. It passes the time, and we rarely snap. At least…not with each other.
This guy we’re visiting? That’s a whole different story. I wouldn’t want to be him right now.
The rumble of five hogs announces our arrival and I see the piece of shit through the house window, peeking out it to see what the hell all that racket is.
“He sees us,” Tonk mutters as we dismount.
“Honey Badger, you know what to do.”
He growls under his breath, “Yep. I got the back,”
Tonk looks at me. “What should I do, master?”
“Suck my cock until I glaze your beard.”
“You wish.”
Everyone laughs low and deviously, and Tonk heads off for the side door. Honey Badger takes off running and, despite his rotund structure, leaps the fence like a prize-winning racehorse. Scratch, Fuse and I go knock on the front door, both of them looking behind us to see if we have witnesses. We don’t.
“What do you want?!!” comes the petrified voice from inside.
“At least he’s not pretending he ain’t home,” Scratch says, impressed.
Fuse adds, under his breath, “He’s got balls,” with his fists ready.