Open Road Read Online Free Page B
Author: Evelyn Glass
stood and walked toward his carefully folded clothing. Ali shrunk in the doorway, as jumpy as a cat, as he stepped into his jeans. "I know you don't really love him, and I also know I'll be right back in this bed with you, if not tomorrow then the next night." He approached her, his hands up so she knew he wouldn't hurt her. "But I don't like being lied to. I haven't lied to you, and I sure as fuck don't want you doing it to me. This--" he motioned between them, "This won't work unless we can be honest with each other."
"I'm sorry." Her plaintive voice, damp eyes, and nervous body language conspired against him to keep him there. Every cell in his body screamed at him to stop in his tracks, pull her back into bed and reassure her with his touch.
But his stubborn pride won out. Fuck this , he told himself as he pulled on his clothes. You don't need to hang around here being her cock on tap while she sorts her shit out. Look at her, she's fucking scared of you, like you're some kind of threat.
"Alejandro, please..." Her gray eyes filled with anguish. "Let me explain," she pleaded, reaching her hand out to him. "Please ."
He shrugged away her touch and stepped into his boots. "Not tonight. I gotta go." He took the stairs down two at a time and was relieved when she didn't follow him. He didn't want to look in her eyes again, because he knew he'd be a pussy and fold. Instead, he started the bike and took off for the clubhouse where he could think in private.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Alejandro woke up face down on the clubhouse sofa with a graveyard of empties on the floor next to him. The TV droned in the background, poking at the edges of his pounding headache. Another night erased from my mind , he thought. Suddenly he remembered the look in Ali's eyes when she'd told him about the gala, and the throbbing above his eye turned savage.
He needed water. And hair of the dog. And a shower.
After reading his text messages and arguing with himself about whether or not to text Ali back, he hopped on his bike and rode to his parents' house, where his mother fussed over him and made him a breakfast fit for a king. But he sure as hell didn't feel like a king. He sank into the chair and eyed the spread gratefully. A mother's love, now that was unconditional, though it didn't change the fact that he felt like shit.
He ignored her disapproving look as he popped open a beer and continued shoveling food into his mouth. She made no secret of the fact that she didn't like drinking, especially in the morning. She was probably right--hell, she was right about everything else, even Ali. It was his mother who had told him ten years ago, Mijo, be careful. That girl will break your heart.
All this time he thought he'd outsmarted her by breaking up with Ali before she could break up with him. Now he realized it didn't matter who did the leaving. A shattered heart was just as broken when you broke it yourself. Ali broke his heart every day that she wasn't his, and that was the truth of the matter.
His mother leaned behind him and wrapped him in her soft embrace. "You're in trouble," she murmured.
" Mi guapa madré ," he replied, kissing her hand. "You worry too much. Us brothers look out for each other. I'm perfectly safe."
"I meant the girl." Her eyes were sympathetic when he stared at her, surprised. "A mother knows. It's all over this handsome face." She took his chin in her hand. "This love torments you, mijo ."
He couldn't even protest. It did torment him. Taking it one day at a time was no longer working for him. If he didn't figure out what he wanted, what he could promise Ali, he would lose her forever to Bobby.
CHAPTER NINE
Later that morning, Alejandro was tinkering with his bike at his father's garage when he heard a car pull up outside. The insistent pounding on the door conspired to shatter his skull, and he headed for the front, hell-bent on thrashing
"I'm sorry." Her plaintive voice, damp eyes, and nervous body language conspired against him to keep him there. Every cell in his body screamed at him to stop in his tracks, pull her back into bed and reassure her with his touch.
But his stubborn pride won out. Fuck this , he told himself as he pulled on his clothes. You don't need to hang around here being her cock on tap while she sorts her shit out. Look at her, she's fucking scared of you, like you're some kind of threat.
"Alejandro, please..." Her gray eyes filled with anguish. "Let me explain," she pleaded, reaching her hand out to him. "Please ."
He shrugged away her touch and stepped into his boots. "Not tonight. I gotta go." He took the stairs down two at a time and was relieved when she didn't follow him. He didn't want to look in her eyes again, because he knew he'd be a pussy and fold. Instead, he started the bike and took off for the clubhouse where he could think in private.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Alejandro woke up face down on the clubhouse sofa with a graveyard of empties on the floor next to him. The TV droned in the background, poking at the edges of his pounding headache. Another night erased from my mind , he thought. Suddenly he remembered the look in Ali's eyes when she'd told him about the gala, and the throbbing above his eye turned savage.
He needed water. And hair of the dog. And a shower.
After reading his text messages and arguing with himself about whether or not to text Ali back, he hopped on his bike and rode to his parents' house, where his mother fussed over him and made him a breakfast fit for a king. But he sure as hell didn't feel like a king. He sank into the chair and eyed the spread gratefully. A mother's love, now that was unconditional, though it didn't change the fact that he felt like shit.
He ignored her disapproving look as he popped open a beer and continued shoveling food into his mouth. She made no secret of the fact that she didn't like drinking, especially in the morning. She was probably right--hell, she was right about everything else, even Ali. It was his mother who had told him ten years ago, Mijo, be careful. That girl will break your heart.
All this time he thought he'd outsmarted her by breaking up with Ali before she could break up with him. Now he realized it didn't matter who did the leaving. A shattered heart was just as broken when you broke it yourself. Ali broke his heart every day that she wasn't his, and that was the truth of the matter.
His mother leaned behind him and wrapped him in her soft embrace. "You're in trouble," she murmured.
" Mi guapa madré ," he replied, kissing her hand. "You worry too much. Us brothers look out for each other. I'm perfectly safe."
"I meant the girl." Her eyes were sympathetic when he stared at her, surprised. "A mother knows. It's all over this handsome face." She took his chin in her hand. "This love torments you, mijo ."
He couldn't even protest. It did torment him. Taking it one day at a time was no longer working for him. If he didn't figure out what he wanted, what he could promise Ali, he would lose her forever to Bobby.
CHAPTER NINE
Later that morning, Alejandro was tinkering with his bike at his father's garage when he heard a car pull up outside. The insistent pounding on the door conspired to shatter his skull, and he headed for the front, hell-bent on thrashing
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