Beyond the Horizon (Sons of Templar MC 4) - Page 82

“Where are you?” a voice growled on the other end of the phone. His husky voice seemed to cut through the music, the conversations around me.

I stepped forward as the line moved, taking me into the bathroom and away from the music.

“Where am I?” I repeated. “What kind of way is that to begin a phone call? Most people go with ‘hello,’” I half snapped, surprised at my irritation. Why was I irritated? The sound of his voice, even laced with anger calmed the churning feeling I was battling with being in this place alone. Maybe that was why. He had the ability to control something even I couldn’t grapple with.

“Hello, flower,” he said slowly.

I smiled slightly, despite myself. I took a look in the mirror, the smile was slightly wonky, and my eyes did indeed have that vacant look the girl in front of me was wearing.

“Hello, Asher,” I replied.

There was a pause. “Where are you?” he asked again.

“Why do you want to know where I am?” I hedged, frowning at the fact the dirty bathroom only had two stalls, and only one seemed to have women coming in and out of it, hence the reason for the long wait.

“You’re in a club,” he surmised.

“What makes you think that? I’m not,” I lied, for what reason, I had no idea. Maybe it was the undertone of disapproval in his voice that penetrated my haze. Since we’d officially become a “couple,” I’d tamped down on my short-lived partying lifestyle. Snuffed it out completely. I didn’t need it with Asher. But without him, even for three days, after today, I needed something. To feel nothing.

“I can hear the music in the background, flower. I know what a club sounds like,” he clipped.

“I could just be playing loud music at my apartment,” I protested. He was away God knows where with God knows who, why I was lying was anyone’s guess, but I didn’t want to have an argument over me being out. I didn’t want to hear the disappointment in his voice at my choice of coping mechanism. I wished I were stronger to not need this, that I could wade through the thorns of grief that surrounded me without anesthetic. But I wasn’t.

“You’re slurring your words,” he pointed out, sounding exasperated.

“I’ve had a couple of wines,” I replied. It was the truth. A couple of wines and a couple more cocktails.

“Okay, well, I’m standing outside your apartment, which is silent as a crypt,” he half growled.

Shit. He had me there. I didn’t exactly expect to outsmart him, but I hadn’t exactly expected to be talking to him, but I didn’t have the presence of mind to screen his call. Despite being caught out, a small feeling of elation bubbled in my stomach. He was back. At my apartment. I’d see him. I glanced down at my attire. Me seeing him meant he’d see me. I was wearing a tight, body con dress that clung to every bit of my curveless body. My makeup and hair was used to disguise the toll grief had taken on me. To hide me from myself. Not recognizing myself when I looked in the mirror was a good thing. But I felt ashamed. Looking into Asher’s eyes was like looking into the truest mirror that showed me without the trappings I used to run from myself. I couldn’t see myself right now. Not after this afternoon.

“What is going on in there? People need to pee, like badly,” the girl in front of me pounded on the stall which hadn’t opened for the entire time we’d been in there.

I frowned at the door, something starting at the pit of my stomach. Something that wasn’t connected to social anxiety and crowds. Something I had trouble inspecting under the cloud of drunkenness I was struggling to escape.

“Lily, where are you?” Asher demanded, his voice sharp.

My back straightened with irritation. “Why do you want to know?”

There was a loaded pause, even on the other end of a phone call after more than a couple of wines, I could feel it. His intensity.

“Seriously, Lily? Could you stop with this shit? I want to know because you’re mine. Because I want to see you. Because I haven’t seen you four days and I want to touch you, taste you. At this moment, though, I want to make sure you’re not about to be fuckin’ groped at some fuckin’ club,” he bit out.

The girl in front of me went into the only stall that seemed to be working. Again, I frowned at the door that hadn’t opened since I had gotten in here. I bent down, not too keen on getting any closer to the grime and who knows what on the sticky floor, but needing too at the same time.

“Lily?” Asher snapped in my ear, sounding concerned.

Tags: Anne Malcom Sons of Templar MC Erotic
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