Chapter 37
Nico
I’d been back three weeks by the time my employees staged their intervention. After Mike flipped the open sign to closed and locked the front door, Jax and Coco came out of the back room like they were on a mission.
“Dude, you need to tell us what the fuck is going on with you, man. This shit is not okay,” Mike began.
Coco nodded her head in agreement while Jax looked on worriedly.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“You’re in a mood, sugar. Have been for weeks,” Coco scolded. “If it’s about your sister, honey, we understand. Really, we do. But you can’t keep being an ass to the clients.”
“When was I an ass to the clients?” I challenged.
They all three looked at each other before Jax finally spoke. “Nico, you just told Shotgun Hawkins to grow a pair. Do you have a death wish? That guy could slap you in the face with his Harley.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please. He was being a big baby.”
Coco snorted a laugh. “You were squeezing his testicles.”
“I was piercing his scrotum. There’s a difference. And can someone please remind him that manscaping is a thing? The guy could use a little hedge trim if you want to know the truth. Not to mention a shower wouldn’t go amiss.” I shuddered. “Don’t remind me. Ten bucks says he tries to ride his Harley against my orders and comes in here with more sniffles about his poor balls.”
Mike’s deep belly laugh echoed through the quiet shop. “Why the hell did he want a hafada anyway? You think his wife wants anything to do with his saggy nuts after all these years?”
“You never know what people do behind closed doors, Mikey. You never know. Maybe Mrs. Shotgun likes them nads bejeweled,” Coco joked.
I shuddered again. “Can we please stop talking about his jewels? I’ll be seeing them in my nightmares for weeks.”
Jax came around the counter to give me an impromptu hug.
“What was that for?” I asked him.
“You seem like you could use a hug,” he said with a shrug. There was a faint tinge of pink on his cheeks, and I was reminded about how shy and sweet the young man was.
“More likely he could use a good fuck,” Mike suggested. “Want me to take you out tonight? I was going to grab a drink with a friend, but he’d probably love dragging me to Harry Dicks instead. Come on. I’ll help you find someone to take your mind off your sister.”
I didn’t correct him by telling him it wasn’t Adriana I was missing.
“You’re going to go clubbing at Harry Dicks? What if I can’t keep all the men off you?” I teased. Mike was straighter than an arrow, but with his big muscled biker look, he often got mistaken for a leather daddy when he wound up at gay bars with me. Guys fucking loved him and swarmed around every chance they got.
“It’ll be good for my ego,” he said with a wink. “My friend Ron will get a kick out of seeing me get more offers of dick than he does. Jax, you in?”
Jax’s face turned even pinker. “Really? I can come with you guys? That’d be awesome. Coco, are you coming?”
“Hell no. Ain’t nothing for me there but sweaty-ass dancing and candy that says look but don’t touch. I think I’ll head home and settle for a night in with my favorite vino and some binge-watching on Netflix. You guys have fun though. And feel free to text me pictures of your conquests.”
I thought about begging off, but I was actually horny as hell. Maybe a random fuck would replace my memories of West Wilde in bed. I could just go out to the clubs, find someone to fuck, and come home unencumbered by all the feelings bullshit. Remind myself why it was nice not feeling emotionally obligated to another person.
By the time I met up with Mike and Jax at Harry Dicks, I had a pocket full of condoms and a goal of finding some cute twinkie ass to get into. It was time to get back on the horse.
Several hours later, I caught an Uber home in a foul mood. I’d been pawed at, dry-humped, and propositioned by any number of cute men and was so pissed off at my dick for its blatant disregard for my feelings that I had half a mind to thump it with my finger in disgust.
“Lame-ass bastard. Don’t tell me you’re too old to get it up for hot guys anymore,” I muttered at my crotch. “Traitor.”
I knew the truth, of course. That fucker had been spending too much time chitchatting with my heart. Probably listening to silly notions about how there should be feelings involved before getting it up for someone.
Stupid, stupid heart.
After thanking the driver, I made my way into the shop and up the back stairs to my apartment. It was lonelier than it had ever been, and I fell into a massive pity party.