Ashley
I check my phone for the tenth damn time this morning, the screen flashing the same empty s**t it showed me last night—no missed calls, no texts back.
Three times I called him.
Three times it rang out.
And still not a goddamn thing.
I try to play it cool. He's the president of a whole motorcycle club. Man's got an empire of outlaws to run; he can't exactly drop everything to blow my phone up like some lovestruck teenager.
Besides, he deserves space. Boundaries.
I remind myself I'm not his girlfriend—no matter how bad I want that title. I don't get to demand his time the way Christine used to.
But tell that to my chest when it's caving in, or to my brain when it won't shut the hell up.
Because I basically spent the whole night wide awake.
Worrying.
Craving.
Laying i
