Damon chuckles, “I’m not. You are.”
Chapter Five
You do not just wake up and become the butterfly
~ Growth is a process
Sakura
Thankfully as the sun has gone down it’s gotten a bit more bearable in here. Not too long ago I heard Boog and Cobra saying they were heading out to a home improvement store to get some window air conditioning units. I told them that would be a great idea and they said Mouser is the one who suggested it to Damon. Man, I could kiss him. I’ve taken three showers today just from the amount of sweat that’s been coming out of my body.
Instead of opting to make dinner, it’s a plum wine and ice cream kind of night. I’m in a white ribbed tank top with a pair of silky short shorts. The silk feels so nice against my skin. I crack open the bottle of Umeshu, which is a cheap plum wine and grab the pint size of vanilla Ben & Jerry’s from the freezer.
The plum taste floats over my taste buds before I swallow and I spend the next thirty minutes finishing my Umeshu and a third of my vanilla ice cream has suddenly been devoured. Oops. Walking over to the fridge I grab another bottle and turn the nose, opening it and drinking more. With what my uncle had told me earlier today, needing a drink shouldn’t be so shocking.
Fuck, I should’ve known Lucian would’ve held off on taking me out of his masking program. More than that, though, I should’ve known he wouldn’t have just treated me like a business associate. The man can’t separate his feelings from anything. I want to say it’s why I cut things off with him, but that’s not why. I only ended things because I’m an absolute horror when it comes to commitment. I don’t understand why, but the idea of it scares me. Maybe if I was a different person, a relationship with Lucian could’ve worked.
At the end of the day, though, he knew what we were. Two people who would fuck and that’s it. I never agreed to a relationship with him and he knew from the very beginning it wasn’t ever going to turn into anything.
As I stand here sipping on my Umeshu I wonder if my twisted family is behind the reason of why I have such a hard time with commitment. The idea of my mother’s members, or children as I should call them . . . giving up their own families and committing to the Yakuza . . . it just . . . well, it makes everything seem so fucked up. Even from a young age I’ve always viewed commitment as the reason behind giving up part of yourself to gain something else. Is it wrong that I don’t want to give up part of myself, or my happiness? No, it isn’t.
A harsh knocking sound comes to my front door, so loud that I jolt and drop my Umeshu which hits the tile floor and breaks. I decide to leave it where it is for now and head over to the door, looking through the peep hole to see Mouser on the other side. Not thinking about it, I immediately open the door since I know him. “Hey, I didn’t know you were coming over,” I state just as my eyes fall to the duffel bag in his right hand. “Or should I say staying over?”
He shrugs, “I figured you’d have a problem with it. Damon wants me to stay with you. Your uncle told him Lucian took you out of that program.”
“Ah,” I mutter. I should’ve realized this would’ve happened. “I suppose there isn’t any convincing you to head back to your trailer?”
Mouser chuckles lowly, “If I do that my ass will be reamed before dawn, Dove.”
I don’t mistake the pet name he’s just given me. What an odd one at that. I place a hand on my hip and stare up at the man. His cheekbones are high which well define his face. He’s a classic pretty boy. It seems to be an American thing. I watched the original movie of Grease and the first pretty boy I ever saw was John Travolta playing his character. If his cheekbones weren’t enough his amber eyes are enough to cause any woman to melt down into a puddle. Then again, his chiseled 5 o’clock shadow is the real cherry on top. But his eyes, they just scream he’s kind, but everything else about the man says he’ll snap necks in two without even giving it an afterthought.
“You gonna let me in?” Mouser questions.
“Tsk, I was thinking about it. Tell me why you’re suddenly calling me Dove and I’ll allow you to pass over my threshold.”
Mouser cocks a brow before he smirks in a sinful way. One that makes me want to wrap my legs around the other to keep the aching from my core at bay. It’s been a while since I’ve hopped in the sack with anyone, and Umeshu just has a way of making me . . . horny as can be. “You know, what you said can be taken a few different ways.”
Stumbling over my words, I realize just how dirty that could’ve been perceived. “I wasn’t. I mean, I didn’t. Shit. I was only trying to figure out why you’re treating me like some girl you’re flirting with at the bar.”
“I call you Dove, because it’s the literal embodiment of what you are. Small and delicate.”
“Most would argue with that statement,” I say, moving out of the way so Mouser can come in the house. I’m not happy Damon has assigned me some sort of bodyguard, but I know it won’t do me any good to be bitching at Mouser about it. He can’t do anything. When I see Damon tomorrow, I’ll just have to make it very clear how I don’t need Mouser watching me in my house.
Damon should understand considering I’m on his property, under the protection of his club. Hell, the next thing I know he’s going to be telling me someone needs to stay in my bed. They could be that freaked out. Given my family, I do understand why. But you know . . . if the person sharing my bed happens to be tall, dark, and handsome I might not put up much of a fight.
No! I’m not going to be some sex crazed woman right now. Mouser is hot. I’ll give him that, but I’m a fearlessly independent woman who doesn’t need a man. Not that I want him as a boyfriend or whatever, because let’s be honest, I’m a mess. I wouldn’t mind seeing where the rest of his tattoo goes under his shirt. I wonder if it spans down his abs, over his legs and . . .
“You alright?” Mouser’s question pulls me back to the present.
“M-me?” I stammer out.
“Yep. Who else would I be talking to?”
I giggle as a response, not liking getting caught in the middle of my thoughts. “Very funny. I was thinking about how Damon must think I’m pretty fucking useless if he’s sent one of his boys to watch over me, in the one place I’m supposed to get some privacy.”
“Yeah, well, get used to it Dove . . . ‘cause I’m not goin’ anywhere. If I don’t follow his orders, I’ll never become a full patch member of the club and I won’t let that happen. Which one is your room?” He asks, looking over to the doors.
I point to my room and he walks to the door directly beside it. Fuck. This is going to be interesting, and for some odd reason I feel as if that’s the most drastic understatement of the century.
Chapter Six
You have no idea how many times I’ve wondered what it would feel like to kiss you
~ Unknown
Mouser