Changing Lanes (Devil's Knights 2nd Generation 4)

“So, my pay will finally even out to the amount of work I actually do,” I jested.

Apollo shook his head. “You’ve worked here for five years, Bristol. You know that Leo and Marco pay based on the level of work you do. You’re obviously doing a great job, and they’re paying you, respectively.”

I rolled my eyes and turned to the sink full of dishes. “Well, then I guess I better get back to work, so Marco and Leo don’t start thinking I’m not worth it.”

Apollo’s phone rang. “Yo,” he called.

I heard Apollo’s chair scape back on the floor.

“Thanks for the apple, Bristol,” he called. “Way better than stale chips.”

I raised my hand over my head. “Just picked them up from the grocery store,” I called. Not like I grew and picked them.

Apollo’s footsteps moved out of the kitchen, and once I knew I was alone, I released a deep sigh.

I hated talking about how much I was getting paid. I was always afraid something was going to click, and everyone was going to realize I wasn’t worth what they were giving me. I worked hard, but I was just doing what I loved at the end of the day. It was crazy to get paid that much to do what you love.

Half an hour later, I had all of my dishes finished, and it was time to start making dinner. I lived in a cycle of create, eat, clean, and repeat. Thank goodness I had a dishwasher, or I would go crazy washing dishes by hand.

“Bristol,” Apollo called from down the hall.

“Yeah?”

“Plan on more people for meals tomorrow,” he replied.

I looked up from the pack of pork chops I was opening. “Uh, how many more people?” Yesterday, Slider had been over to help move some of the baby’s things in, but he hadn’t stayed to eat anything. “Just Slider and Fayth?”

“Uh, I would say an additional seven or eight more. Some of the Knights are going to help move Royal in.”

My eyes bugged out. “Uh, really?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it. Whatever you plan on making will be great. They aren’t picky.”

“Got it.” My voice came out strained, and my mind raced, wondering who would be here tomorrow.

There was no guarantee that Pie would be one of the guys. I hadn’t spoken to him since he had pressed a kiss to my lips and walked out my door twenty-four hours ago.

See ya around.

Ugh. It was so casual, as if I was just someone he met on the street.

Even though we had met in the pantry. And then had hot, passionate sex the next day in the same pantry.

My cheeks heated at the thought of Pie pinning me up against the shelves and pressing his lips to my neck. I shook my head and closed my eyes. “We are not going to think about him,” I whispered. I wouldn’t get anything done if I thought about Pie.

I would wonder what he was doing, where he was. Who was he with?

Ugh. That was the one that always killed me. I knew he was probably just doing club stuff, but in the back of my mind, I wondered if what he was doing with me in the middle of the night, he was doing with someone else.

We were casual.

All we were doing was having some mind-blowing sex, and that was it. We had both agreed after the first time we had done the deed that neither of us were interested in anything more.

Sex, yes.

More, no.

I groaned and dropped my chin to my chest.