Once inside, Tate flicked the switch, illuminating the whole apartment. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”
“I know. I’d rather live on my own than with my parents. They like things their own way, and I needed to spread my wings and live.”
Agreeing, Tate moved toward her small kitchen. The space was always open, but she wasn’t going to complain. The apartment had everything she needed. There was a bedroom, sitting room, kitchen, bathroom, and plenty of hot water for a bath. The building was also sanitary, which was a huge bonus. She hated bugs of all kinds and couldn’t stand to think of bugs in her apartment.
“You can take your jacket off.”
Kelsey removed her jacket, sitting in the seat that Tate pointed at.
“Your machine is buzzing,” Kelsey said.
Glancing over to her answering machine she saw over fifteen messages blinking at her. The kettle was on, boiling. Pressing play, she began to listen, not caring that Kelsey was witnessing it. There was a lot she didn’t care about.
“Tate, I swear if you don’t get your fucking ass home, then you’re in deep fucking trouble. I didn’t raise you to be reckless. Stop behaving like a spoiled brat.”
Tate rolled her eyes at her father’s words. Tiny was not right about everything. If anything, he’d taught her to never take shit. He was a mass of contradictions, and she wasn’t going to apologize for being number one.
“Tate, honey, your father is beside himself with worry. Please, talk to him and let him see you’re fine.”
Eva sounded far more understanding. The next two messages were from her father, and the couple after that were from Lash and Nash.
In the end, Tate deleted all the messages without listening to every single one.
“Your family care,” Kelsey said.
“No, they don’t. Well, they care. What they don’t like is me putting myself first, not the club.” Shaking her head at their insistence, Tate made her way back to the kitchen to finish their coffees. “So, Kelsey, tell me about yourself.”
For the next hour Tate prepared food while listening to her new friend talk about herself. Kelsey liked to read, cook, and work. Tate liked her instantly as not once did she mention fucking or joining motorbike clubs in her spare time.
After they finished eating, both women cleaned away their dishes, and then Kelsey excused herself, offering to walk to work with her the next day. Tate accepted the company and sat back on her sofa staring at the clock. She was waiting for the knock or the unmistakable sound of her window opening or something. Murphy was a creature of habit, and she’d bet money he’d come out of her bedroom where her window was partially open for a little fresh air. Sipping her coffee, three minutes later her bedroom door opened.
“You’ve got to start leaving the window closed,” he said, coming to stand in front of her. She stared down at his wet shoes making a mess on her carpet.
“Get your shoes off.”
“No.”
Shrugging, Tate didn’t raise her voice. She sipped at her drink, waiting for him to speak now that he’d invaded her space.
“Cherry your new little friend, or have you switched sides?” Murphy asked. “Last time I knew you, you loved cock.”
Tate truly believed she was a woman of the world. Growing up in a world of rough bikers who spoke without a filter she’d heard a lot of crap. Murphy’s words didn’t fail to make her cheeks heat.
“You’re disgusting.” Glancing up the length of his body, Tate ignored the jolt charging through her system. He really was a handsome man. No wonder women fell all over themselves for a chance to be with him. Murphy was a tall man, over six feet with muscles to go with his frame that people refused to argue with. She’d seen him hurt men twice the size of him without blinking. Remembering how he used to protect her during high school brought back too many memories. They were good memories, which made what he had done to her that much worse.
His hair was tied at the back. She knew it was only a matter of time before he cut it off. Murphy hated long hair. His face was clear of any facial hair. Murphy was perfect in size, looks, and attitude. She felt an awakening arousal deep in her core.
For a long time she’d pushed aside her sexual need, instead sticking to her anger. Around Murphy she couldn’t control her reactions, and that hurt her more than anything.
Chapter Two
At twenty-eight years old, Murphy knew when a woman was fighting her arousal. Folding arms over breasts, rubbing together thighs, or lack of eye contact were all part of the fight, and his woman was displaying them all. Tate was aroused by him, and she was fighting it. He couldn’t push too much. Their relationship hadn’t been the same since he’d come back. His time at The Lions had changed a lot of things, including their relationship.