Bitter Edge : A Hero Club Novel Read online

  Right now, his hands are kind. His fingers slide into the spaces between my ribs and rest there. The pressure from his hands doesn’t bite at my skin or fight against it. They melt against me like they belong there.

  I enjoy it.

  He breaks our touch first. He looks down from underneath his hat and lips part. At first, I think he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. He simply presses his lips to my forehead then leaves me to take the seat I left vacant. I stand there watching him. He doesn’t look back at me.

  I can still feel the damp imprint of his lips on my forehead as I slide into the driver’s open door and move the seat forward. I find myself wrapping my hands around the wheel over and over again. This is what control feels like.

  “Are you sure?” he mumbles from beside me.

  “I’m positive. You’re done. Set the GPS for our stop and I will follow what it says. You need sleep.”

  As Spencer punches in our destination, he quips, “I need many things apparently.”

  Chapter 14

  Spencer

  She smelled of vanilla and a hint of some kind of flower. Roses maybe? Her body was warmer than I remember it being. The top of her head barely reached under my chin. I shouldn’t have let her touch me like that, but she knew what I needed without saying a word. It’s been a long time since someone has. Since I’ve allowed someone to.

  I listened to the navigation through closed eyes. Cierra took control of our destiny and I let her. I fell asleep within minutes. I don’t know how much time has passed, but I wake as the car rolled to a stop.

  “Where are we?” I ask.

  “We’re in BFN.”

  “BFN?” I question.

  “Bumble Fuck, Nevada. We’re about three hours outside of Las Vegas, according to the navigation, but I want to stop. I’m tired, hungry for dinner, and need to stretch.”

  “Does this BFN have a motel?”

  “It does. Looks like there might even be a one whole bar and grill too. We lucked out.”

  I look at the location on the GPS. “Population 131. Now I know what they mean by one-horse town.” I crack my neck from side to side before I continue, “I will go and see about rooms. You stretch. I mean fully stretch. Don’t undo all the work we’ve done.”

  “I’ve got it. Just go.”

  I sigh silently before her attitude gets me to say something I’ll regret. After climbing from the car, I do as I asked her to do, pull my arms straight up over my head and give myself a proper stretch. I know it won’t help what is tight inside me, but I give it a go anyway.

  Walking to the front office for the motel, I look back and she is doing as I told her. Strands of her dark hair are blowing in the dusty breeze. Her skin is glowing in the kiss of the sun. What are you doing, idiot? Stop staring!

  The front office attendant reminds me of the one in the movie Vacation. He’s spitting watermelon seeds into the handkerchief in his hand while I register us. He said we were in luck and he had one room left. Two others were being renovated and a third was still closed for an unspecified police investigation. Well, shit. What could possibly have gone on? Scratch that. I don’t want to know.

  I take the key from Harold and find Cierra right where I left her. How do I approach this?

  “Okay,” I begin, “There’s good news and there’s bad news.”

  “If you tell me there are bugs, I’m out!”

  I laugh, “I can’t guarantee that, Princess, but I can promise to kill any if they join us.”

  “Us? What do you mean us?”

  “As I said, good news is we have a room.”

  “You said a room.”

  “Yeah, that’s also the bad news. They only had one left for various reasons. If you insist we stop, this is what we’ve got. I can go turn the key in and we can keep driving the rest of the way, if you want.”

  I can tell she’s uneasy. She’s doing that thing where she rubs the inside of her left palm with her thumb. “Cierra, need I remind you I don’t bite?”

  “Yes. You do actually.” She clears her throat softly, “I can do it if you can.”

  “I’ve shared many a hotel room, so this is not new to me.”

  “You have, huh? Well, sounds like a few stories there, Mr. Broten.”

  “Wait…what? No. I didn’t mean…I meant on the road, Cierra.”

  “Yeah, because that sounds so much better.”

  “What? Oh…fuck!” I scratch at the back of my neck. “Maybe we should move the car and see our room before I dig myself any deeper.”

  “Bad word choice again but good idea.”

  The motel is situated in four wings, so I can assume it looks like four spokes from overhead. We drive to the backside and park in front of room 402. I offer to get both bags, but she insists on getting hers by herself. I’ve taught her she doesn’t and shouldn’t need help, so this shouldn’t be a surprise.

  Cierra puts the key in the lock and opens the door. “The manager said the light switch was inside the frame on the wall.”

  She reaches and flicks the switch. The floor lamp glows dim in the corner. The room décor is right out of the nineteen seventies. All the olive green and orange a person can stand.

  “Let’s do the “Time Warp” again,” she mumbles.

  “Quoting Rocky Horror?”

  “Tell me I’m not wrong?”

  “No, you absolutely are. I’m just surprised is all.”

  “Why, because I know of it?”

  “No, because I thought I’d hear about the bigger issue first.”

  “Which is?”

  “One king-size bed.”

  Chapter 15

  Cierra

  My mother would die. She didn’t like me even rooming with Valentin on the road for competitions, even though he was gay. This would send her over the edge. You’d think my virginity at this point was her badge of honor. I’m not interested in Spencer. Anyway, he’d never be interested in me. This isn’t a big deal. Get over it.

  Yeah, hopefully the more times I say it I will start to believe it.

  “Are you planning on putting your groupie moves on me?” I ask.

  “I don’t have groupie moves.” His bags hit the floor with such force it echoes, even with the carpet.

  “Take a joke, Broten. Jesus.”

  “I don’t fuck around, Cierra. I don’t.”

  “Got it. Loud and clear.”

  Why does he care what my opinion is anyway? Give him a break, Cici. Remember the broken boy.

  “So, this solves tired. You mentioned hungry as well. It doesn’t look like we have many options. Do you want to get cleaned up first or just go?”

  “I’m good. It’s hotter here than when we started, so I think I might change.”

  “I’m going to take a shower then so you can do that.”

  “Don’t tell me if you find roaches or spiders. Simply kill them and move on, okay?”

  “Yes, Princess. I will.”

  Spencer breezes past me toward the bathroom. I must have given him food for thought, because he checked all the tile and inside the tub carefully before grabbing a towel and closing the door behind him. I wait until the water has been running about a minute before I decide it is safe to change.

  The bathroom here at least has the sink and vanity outside the shower, so we won’t have to do the awkward dance. I toss my oversized duffel in the corner before I open my small suitcase. Good thing at the last minute I tossed a sundress in the mix. I have sweat in places I wouldn’t even tell my mother about.

  I peel my capri leggings and tee shirt off and toss them to the chair to the left of the bed. My thong is a mile in the wrong direction and this bra will never do with the dress. I deposit it to the side then adjust what needed to be for about the last hour.

  With the water still raining over Spencer, I take a washcloth and clean myself up at the sink. I need to do this quick. I don’t want any surprise door openings to give him a show. I let the water run for a while to get it
cool but not cold and sponge off. It’s what I need to wake me up.

  I feel almost human again. My yellow eyelet sundress slides easily over my head, except for my strap getting tangled in my ponytail. Well, out that goes then, I guess. I pull the hair tie free in the instant the shower turns off. Shit! I’m not quite covered up.

  I get the bow on my right shoulder and quickly back away from the mirror to offer him some privacy. I get to the left side of the bed before I hear the handle click and the door open. Steam billows out into the room with the vaguest hint of musk smell.

  Spencer doesn’t say a word. He hasn’t asked where I am in the room. Nothing. After a minute I turn my head enough over my left shoulder to see if I can tell where he is. I don’t see him, but I see him.

  As the steam begins to clear, so does the image of his body in the mirror. At first, I see just a leg from the knee down. I watch as he inspects the scars as he dries off. Then the other leg. Matching war wounds. His other leg lowers to the floor and he spins around, away from my line of sight.

  Jesus Christ!

  The line of his back is everything. I’ve never seen a naked man this close in person. Everything in me is screaming to run because it’s Spencer, but in that same thought everything in me is screaming, take fucking pictures. Every muscle he has flows endlessly into the next. His shoulders ride down to the most perfect arms. I’ve heard the term arm porn before. Now I get it!

  Not to say his ass isn’t also perfect, because it is. His skin looks so soft. I wonder what it feels like. What am I saying? This is Spencer, Cici. You know, the root of all evil. The bastard who’s hurt your body more than the injury itself. The man who…

  I can’t even finish that thought because he turns freely to face the cracked door while drying his hair. I. Saw. It. All. I think I may have gasped a little. This is literal porn. Every inch of him is as stunning as any model I could have ever dreamed of. I’m frozen watching. I wish I was that towel.

  I hear the creak of the door and quickly face away, pretending I’m still messing with my hair. I can’t have him see the flush in my cheeks or the look on my face, which would definitely say I saw you full frontal and it made me feel something.

  “You decent?” he asks.

  “If you mean am I dressed then, yes.” If you mean are my thoughts decent? Well, that answer would be yes and no.

  His voice becomes fuller in the room. “I’ll just be a second. Don’t try and sneak a peek.”

  “What? Don’t flatter yourself.”

  I can hear him chuckle a bit. “Calm down, Cierra. Now who is the one who can’t take a joke?”

  I can hear the unmistakable slide of denim up his body and the zip hiding away the image I will never be able to unsee. “So, are you ready?”

  “Ready?” I ask.

  “To go. You know, dinner.”

  “Yes. Dinner. Yes, I’m ready.”

  “Were you thinking I meant something else?”

  “Umm that…maybe I should text my mom and let her know we’re fine. I’m fine.”

  “You can do that from dinner. She’d expect you to. I promised her you would.”

  “You know, in case you’ve forgotten, it really pisses me off being talked about behind my back.”

  “Cierra, we’ve been over this. Your parents hired me. Your coach and I work together. I answer to all of them. It’s not talking about you behind your back.”

  “It’s how it feels to me, considering I was again left out of the equation. Are we walking?”

  He sighs, defeated. “Yes, after you put your compression sleeve back on. Flat shoes only.”

  “Yes, I’m aware of the rules,” I growl.

  He brushes by me but stops next to my ear. “But I know you like to break them.”

  Was that a come on? Was that a challenge?

  Oh shit. He does not want to dare me. I’m missing a good pair of heels. Maybe I could use one to pry that stick out of your ass too.

  Chapter 16

  Spencer

  This town reminds me of the one in that movie where Swayze was a drag queen. It’s one long, dusty main street with a couple of mom-and-pop shops lining each side, with the motel at one end and the tavern at the other. It feels like there are dozens of eyes on us as we walk up the street together.

  I’m sure we look like an odd couple to them: the blond man with the younger, petite brown girl. I pull Cierra in a little closer.

  “Geez, what was that for?” she asks.

  “Don’t you feel it?”

  “What?”

  “Like we’re being watched.”

  “I hadn’t thought about it, no.” I catch her scanning the storefronts as a pair of eyes or a pair of shoes peek out of doorways or behind curtains to watch as we stroll by.

  “Don’t think about it, Cierra. I’m sorry I mentioned it. They’re probably trying to decide if I’ve kidnapped you or are trying to figure out why the brace is on your leg.”

  “Well, you did sort of kidnap me. Not that I can turn you in for it.”

  “Shit! Say that a little louder next time. I’m sure the sheriff didn’t quite hear you.”

  “Lighten up. If you’re freaking out, I will be. Let’s just eat. Okay? Please tell me, since I have to consider this a vacation and not a kidnapping, I can eat whatever I want and not the approved menu for once.”

  “Yes, you can have a cheat meal. I will join in that, but we will have to find a way to work it off later.”

  “Deal! I don’t care.”

  We both reach for the door handle at the same time. Her hand is wound beneath mine. We linger for a moment or two before I pull my hand back and away to allow her to open the door.

  We enter and the tavern is about half full. There are a few tables in front, near the windows, with rows of stools along the bar on both the short and long side. The walls are paneled and lined with pictures of the local catches and a moose head or two. Up on a slight balcony are three dart lanes and a pool table that has a bright red felt cover.

  Playing softly from the jukebox is an old Travis Tritt and Marty Stuart classic. If two people looked more out of place than we do, I’d like to see them and quick.

  All eyes in the bar, at one time or another, are on us again. We are definitely the outsiders. “Where would you like to sit, Cierra?”

  “Table by the window. I want to see the escape route if necessary.”

  Out of habit, I pull her chair out, offering a seat. She seems shocked by this simple gesture but takes it. As I slide in across from her, our waitress introduces herself. Her name is Sara. She has blonde hair that floats down below her shoulders and has a light Southern accent.

  “Can I get you anything to start? Soda? Water? Beer?” she asks.

  “I’ll take a Maker’s on the rocks.”

  Cierra leans in. She stares right at Sara, who’s ignoring her. “I’ll have what he’s having. Thank you for asking. Water too. Thanks.”

  Cierra’s presence may have been purposefully ignored at first, but her defiant attitude is hard to miss. Sara gives her a half-hearted smile and retreats to the bar.

  “Jesus! Why didn’t she whip her boobs out right here or offer you a lap dance? My God! Could she have been more obvious?”

  “What are you talking about? She only took our drink order.”

  “You really can be super dumb sometimes. She totally wants you.”

  “Well, I totally don’t want her. So that case would be closed regardless. Wait. Did you order a drink?”

  “Yes, I did. You said no rules.”

  “I meant food, Cierra.”

  “I’m legal and I want a drink. I don’t get anything else I want out of this, so I’m taking advantage of it.”

  Sara wanders back with our drinks. “Thank you.”

  Cierra follows, “Yes, thank you! Bottoms up, babe, right?” She reaches across for my hand as she swirls the liquid once over the three ice cubes and downs it in one gulp.

  My eyes widen a fraction as the
ladies stare each other down in fighter fashion. Before I know what happened, Cierra summons a round two as Sara slinks away.

  “Babe? Why did you call me that? What the fuck?”

  “I don’t like how she… I didn’t like it, so I did something about it. End of story. You’re a drink behind, aren’t you?”

  “Makers is meant for sipping not slamming.”

  “You do it your way and I do it mine.”

  Round two is presented to us with Cierra’s first and mine as the afterthought. Where is this fierce nature when it comes to her rehab? She’s so apathetic about that, but she nearly took this waitress out when she saw her as competition.

  Saw her as…

  Nope. Not going there. Fix your shit quick, Spence.

  “Do you know what you want to eat? You seem to have specific everything in mind tonight.”

  “I want a big juicy burger with all the fixings, a basket of fries with a side of ranch, and if I have room dessert too.”

  “Ranch? Really?”

  “You haven’t lived until you’ve had fries with ranch. Not that light shit either. Real full-on ranch.”

  “I guess I will have the same. Yolo, right?”

  Cierra rolls her eyes at me. “That just dated you big time,” she giggles.

  “Are you calling me old too, on top of everything else?”

  “If the shoe fits.”

  “Booze made you either really brave or more irritating. I’ll let you know which.”

  I stare down into my glass, unable to take a sip. I ordered it without even thinking. Makers was our drink. Mine and Mari’s. We’d always have a bottle on hand for the hat tricks, her work successes, the hard days. A little sip of Makers was the way we’d have that visual representation of us being in it together.

  I haven’t touched it in at least two years. When I was asked today it rolled out like habit. Like putting on the right skate before the left. It was something I did without thinking.

  “What’s wrong?” Cierra asks.