Chapter 36

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Jigsaw

Margot hasn't answered any of my texts.

Maybe that's for the best.

I'm guessing she didn't find my had a great time Post-it Note flattering.

I can't stop thinking about Shelby's card reading, though. Kill the old me so something new can grow. It's harder than it sounds.

Tonight, I'm headed in the direction of her place, but take a detour to Remy's bar instead. I haven't harassed him in a few days. He probably misses me.

And I'm hungry. It's got nothing to do with avoiding Margot at all.

The place is the busiest I've seen it in a while. And for once, I don't think it's only Remy's buddies taking up the spots.

Remy's behind the bar and grins as soon as his gaze lands on me. "My favorite serial killer. How are you?"

I bare my teeth at him and drape myself over a seat at the bar.

He rests his elbows on the counter and leans over, getting too close to my face. "Interesting you chose that seat. That's where your friend Margot sat when she stopped in last night."

"Oh, yeah?" I ask, faking indifference.

"How in the hell do you two know each other again?"

"None of your business." I point to the beer tap. "You want to take my order or are you just back there as decoration?"

He grabs a glass and pulls the beer, then sets it in front of me. I take a slow sip and try not to cringe at the bitterness of the cheap swill.

I don't want to give Remy the green light to pry into my life, but I'm curious about why Margot stopped in here. Was she looking for me? Did she ask Remy if I'd been in? Fuck, was she hoping to hook up with Remy? He'll nail anyone with two sets of lips, so it wouldn't take much effort to capture his attention. "So why was she here?"

"For cookies." He shrugs. "And she said you told her we have the best buffalo chicken sandwich."

I nod and take another sip. "I did say that. I forgot to remind her how annoying the owner is, though."

Remy laughs it off, not insulted. "Do you want something to eat?"

"Gee, could ya?" I cock my head, being as dickish as possible. "The buffalo chicken."

"Coming up."

While he's gone, I turn on my stool and survey the room. A couple of old guys who look like they spent the afternoon golfing are in a booth by the back. Another younger couple that look like they stopped here on their way home from work. A rowdier group of what could be frat bros, although there aren't any colleges nearby.

"Looking busier," I say when Remy returns with my plate.

"Yeah. Teller's been helping me with some advertising and stuff."

"Good."

He drifts away to take care of other patrons. I'm almost done when he returns. "So, you never said how you know Margot. You two related?"

I huff out a laugh. "No."

"Well, I know she's not your ol' lady."

I narrow my eyes. "How's that?"

His lips twitch, like he's having trouble keeping that smug smirk off his pretty face. "Torch asked her out and she said yes."

The last bit of sandwich I'd been holding crumples to mush in my fist. Bread, sauce, lettuce, and chicken ooze between my fingers. "What?"

In full smirk mode now, Remy stares at the bar top and wipes a rag against the same spot over and over. "Yeah, they got to talking. Something about going to the drive-in Friday."

The fuck they are. "Thanks for the information." I grab the towel out of his hand and clean the chicken off my fingers.

"Don't kill Torch," he warns me. "He's Eraser's cousin."

"I know who he is."

"And," he continues as if I hadn't said anything, "we're looking at him for treasurer of the support club. I also need him to help me run this place while Griff's away this summer."

"I'm not killing anyone. Like you said, she's not my ol' lady. She can go out with whoever she wants." My stomach twists at the thought, threatening to reunite me with my chicken dinner for speaking such blasphemy.

I pull out my wallet and throw enough cash on the bar to cover the food and then some.

"Wait a second." He scoops up the money. "You need change?"

"No," I growl.

Out in the parking lot, I stare at the road that leads into Johnsonville. It'll take longer to get to Margot's place if I take that route. I could use the time to cool off.

She said yes to a date. Must be ready to try out all those new skills I've been helping her learn.

Fuck, that hurts more than getting my dick caught in my zipper.

What did I expect? I keep reminding her we're not dating. The last time she hinted at having feelings, I ghosted her. She somehow took me back and I'm still keeping things "sex only." I left her a fucking note instead of calling her or, I don't know, sending her flowers or some shit. Jesus, fuck, why didn't that occur to me?

See, I knew I wasn't cut out to be her boyfriend. "Sex only" works for us. Why mess with it? If she wants to start fucking Torch, then I'm free to return to my parade of muffler bunnies and randoms.

Except, I don't want to.

The weight of years of one-night stands and meaningless encounters crawls over my skin. Margot and I are more than that, aren't we? We talk a lot. Christ, I've never loved listening to a woman's voice as much as I love Margot's.

Sex? Best I've ever had. Because I've trained her to my liking or just because we're so compatible?

How the fuck would I know? Best is the best. Does it matter why?

I never take her anywhere or do anything fun with her. Mostly because I like the peace and quiet at her place. Just being in her presence. Does she want to do shit like go to the drive-in?

She does have that big DVD collection and a whole theater room. She must like movies. Maybe if I spent more time getting to know her instead of trying to discover all the various ways I can make her orgasm, I'd know the answer to such a simple question.

I'm in a worse mood by the time I finally approach her house. She must've heard me coming. I've just finished backing my bike into the spot I like to leave it when she steps into the parking lot in pajamas and bare feet.

"What are you doing here?" she asks.

"We need to talk." I storm across the pavement toward her, my boots scraping over the asphalt.

"Uh, okay." She hurries up the back steps and into the house. "Come on in. Why are you so…?" She whirls her hands around in front of her face. "So flurried?"

I stop and close the door behind me. "Flurried?"

"Flustered, hurried, angry…I don't know!" She plucks her fingers in the air. "Your energy seems hostile."

In an instant, my annoyance evaporates. This woman fucking slays me.

"I'm not angry or hostile," I say.

She waves her hands in front of my body. "Sure, you're the picture of tranquility."

Damn right I'm not tranquil. I point to the staircase. "Get up those stairs."

Fury flares in her eyes. "Excuse me?"

"We need to talk, and I don't think you want anyone to overhear this conversation."

She throws her arms out wide but backs up toward the staircase. "There's no one else here."

"I'm not fucking around, Margot."

Still facing me, she works her way up the first flight of stairs backwards while I stalk her every step.

At the landing, she turns and sprints.

"That's better," I grumble, matching her pace.

She slams her palms against her door. I press my body against hers.

"You trying to outrun me, little lady death?"

"As if I could with your long, mountain man legs." She fumbles her hand on the tap pad and the door finally clicks open.

I take my weight off of her so we don't fall into the apartment, but move fast in case she's thinking of slamming the door in my face.

"Are we having a lesson on primal hunter/prey kinks that I don't know about?" she asks.

Primal. That's how I feel. Like someone tried to touch my mate and I need to reassert my position in her life.

I advance and she steps back.

"Are you going out with Torch this weekend?"

Guilt creeps into her eyes and she takes another step away. "Nuh…not…who told you that?"

"Fuck." I stab my fingers through my hair. "No. That's the only acceptable answer."

Her eyes widen and she sucks in a sharp breath. "Why would I say that?"

"You're not going out with him." In case she thinks this is personal against Torch, I add, "Or anyone else."

She crosses her arms over her chest, drawing my attention to her plump tits trying to pop out of the low V of her shirt.

Focus. Answers now. Tits later.

"Says who?" she asks in a low, deadly whisper.

"Says me ."

"And who are you to me?"

Danger. Fuuuck. I stomped right into this minefield.

"Because the last time I checked," she continues, still in that gravely pissed-off tone, "you warned me not to ‘catch feelings .'" Her lips curl into a sneer on the last word.

Man, I'll never live that one down, will I?

"And, you keep reminding me this is temporary." She points to the kitchen. "Remember when you told me I should find someone shorter if I wanted to try counter sex again?"

I wince. I did say that, didn't I? I really am a dick.

"And now you have the audacity to come in here like some snarling beast, mad at me because someone else asked me out?" she shouts. "Are you kidding?"

"We also said we weren't going to fuck other people," I remind her. "While classes are in session."

"Who said I wanted to fuck anyone!" she yells, jabbing her finger in the air toward my face. "It's a date. What fucked-up world do you live in that a simple date automatically equals sex?"

I've never heard Margot drop so many fucks at once. It's fucking hot. I grab her wrists and drive her against the wall, pinning her next to her closet door.

Her eyes widen and she glares up at me. "Let go of me!"

I release her wrists but keep her pinned with my body. "I don't want you to go out with him."

"Why?" she demands.

Breathing hard, I stare down into her defiant eyes but can't force out the reason.

"You said you don't have relationships. You don't want a girlfriend or an ol' lady." She draws out the word in a mocking tone. "So why do you care who I non-sexually date?"

I snort and take a step back. "Does he know it's non-sexual?" Something worse occurs to me. "How long do you think it will stay non-sexual? Wasn't that the whole point of what we're doing?"

"Yes. You've been a fantastic tutor." Her voice drops to a kitten-like purr that irritates the ever-loving shit out of me for reasons I don't want to examine. "Maybe I'm ready to test my new skills with someone else."

"The fuck you are."

"Why? What else could you possibly have left to teach me?"

My jaw clenches. Whip-fast, I grab her ponytail and wrap it around my fist, tilting her head back. "You still need to learn what happens to bratty little girls who misbehave."

Her eyes flare with indignation, but her lips twitch with amusement. "Oh, really?"

"Tell him no," I demand.

She flashes a wicked grin. "Or what?"

"Break the date, Margot."

"Why? You haven't given me a good enough reason."

"You need a reason?"

"A good one."

She's infuriating and fuck it; I want her so much. "You're mine."

"I'm your what ?"

"Mine," I growl, slamming my lips over hers to stop her from making me say it.

She hooks one arm around my neck. I release her hair and slide my hands down, lifting her and pressing her against the wall.

"What am I to you?" she whispers, pressing her hand to my chest in an attempt to hold me back. "Tell me."

"I told you. You're mine."

"What does that mean?" she insists.

I blow out an annoyed breath. "You need a title? My woman. My girlfriend ."

"You want me to be your girlfriend?"

"Why is that so hard to believe?"

"Because you told me, rather explicitly, that you don't have relationships."

"Well, now I want to."

"Why?"

"Why what ?" I said it. What more does she want from me?

"Why do you want me to be your girlfriend? Because someone else asked me out?"

"No. I like you. Every little fucking thing about you. Your sense of humor, and all the quirky challenges that come out of your mouth. I like the way you care so much about what you do. How you try to protect and honor dead people you didn't even know in life."

Her eyebrows squinch together.

"You need me to continue?" When she doesn't answer, I keep spilling all the thoughts that have been taking up space in my head for months. "I respect the way you don't let people talk you into things. Even me. You're hotter than fuck. You wear the cutest outfits." I squeeze my eyes shut for a second. "But I really like you naked best. Your body drives me insane."

I usually know where things are going every time I'm with a woman—nowhere. I should've let it stay that way. I don't think I can go back to nowhere. Not when I want to be somewhere with this woman.

"Do you really mean all of that?" she asks.

"Every word."

She cups my cheek. "I'll tell him I can't make it."

"Good."

She wiggles her body like she's trying to get free from my iron grip. "Uh, let me go so I can get my phone."

"Now?" I slip my hand under her shirt and cup her breast. No bra in my way. Fuck, yes. I rub my thumb around the hard bud of her nipple. "He can wait."

"You chased me up the stairs…barged in here." She gasps as I close two fingers over her nipple and squeeze. "And…and…"

"And what?" I tug her shirt up and free one arm. Can't be bothered getting it all the way off. I dip my head and suck her nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the tip.

"Ah…nothing. I don't know." She rakes her fingers through my hair. "I'll do it later."

"Yes, you will." I boost her into my arms again, sliding my palms under her ass, and holding her against my body.

She quickly locks her arms around my neck and glances at the floor. "Don't let go of me."

I've never been good at holding onto anyone. Never wanted to before.

But I never want to let her go.