Taming Blade (Kings Reapers MC Book 5), Nicola Jane [books for 7th graders TXT] 📗

now?” I ask, and she cringes. “Ain’t that a bit dangerous?”

“More dangerous than flirting with a biker?” asks Sara, and Tillie glares at her.

“Go change. I’ll be there in a sec,” Tillie hisses.

Once Sara’s gone, Tillie smiles at me. “She gets excited over anything romantic. That’s why she’s hurt after your friend practically kicked her from his bed.”

I rub the back of my neck. “I can’t speak for Lake,” I say. “But if I know him, he wouldn’t have made any promises.”

“Still a shitty way to behave,” she says, shrugging.

“You’re gonna go on a date with the guy you haven’t met?” I ask.

“Maybe. I’ve never had a guy buy me nice flowers. He’s making the right moves,” she says, laughing. “Anyway, I should go. See you around.” I nod and she heads for the change rooms.

Damn, why’s this idiot showing interest in her when I’m still trying to figure her out?

Chapter Six

TILLIE

I keep replaying my conversation with Blade. I was surprised when I saw him at the gym. He’s never been there before, at least not that I’ve noticed. Sara drops down on the couch beside me, rubbing her wet hair vigorously with a towel. “Why do you think Blade came to the gym today?”

I shrug. “I was just thinking about it. A little weird that he keeps turning up where I am.”

Sara smiles. “And you have Mr. Anonymous stalking from a distance. Girl, what are you doing differently to suddenly warrant all this attention?”

“Honestly, I wish I knew.” My mobile phone buzzes and I glance at the screen. It’s a number I don’t recognise, but I open up the text. “Oh my,” I mumble. “It’s Mr. Anonymous himself.”

Sara snatches my phone and reads the message aloud. “Enough of the mystery. I’d like us to meet.” She glances at me, her eyes alight with excitement. “Shit!”

“What do I do?”

“Meet him, of course,” says Sara. She taps out a reply and shows me the phone. “Nice and simple.”

Me: When?

I nod in agreement and she sends the message before passing the phone back.

The reply comes almost instantly and I read it out to Sara. “No time like the present. I’m at The Innkeeper. Why not join me?” That bar is a five-minute walk from where we live.

Sara jumps up. “I’ll dry my hair and change.” When I stare at her blankly, her eyes widen with impatience. “You can’t go alone. He might be a weirdo.”

“Which is exactly why I’m not going at all. I’m not prepared for this,” I wail. “He knows my address, where I work, my phone number. It’s weird.”

Sara takes me by the hands and pulls me to stand, then stares me in the eyes. “Get a hold of yourself. We need to know who the hell he is and how he knows you. Aren’t you a little bit intrigued?”

I nod. “I guess, but I still need to prepare.”

“Get dressed, put on a little mascara, and you’re good to go.”

I take a deep breath before following Sara into the bar. It’s dimly lit but not busy. We head straight for the bar and I discreetly scan the room until my eyes land on an older-looking man with sunken eyes and a cruel smile. His eyes are fixed on me and I shiver. “Oh god, Sara,” I whisper, trying to keep my lips as still as possible in case he can lip read. “Is that him?”

“Fuck, I hope not,” she mutters, smirking. “Has he got teeth?”

“Tillie,” a voice rumbles from behind me and I turn quickly in fright. I’m staring at a hard, sculpted chest encased in a tight black tee. My eyes drift upwards and settle on the handsome face of a tall guy with green eyes. I take in his chiselled jaw with a spattering of a nine o’clock shadow. There’s no denying that he’s hot. “Glad you could make it,” he adds, and his deep voice washes over me for a second time, adding to his hotness. “I’m Ethan.”

“Thank fuck for that. We thought the mystery man was him,” says Sara, pointing to the older man.

Ethan sniggers. “He’s harmless enough. A regular.”

“You drink here a lot?” I ask.

“After work usually. I just got off shift. Can I get you ladies something to drink?”

Sara shakes her head. “I’m only here to keep an eye on my friend. You guys have a great time and I’ll just sit over there out the way,” she says as she heads to a corner booth and takes a seat.

Ethan smiles at me and I smile back awkwardly. “I’ll have a lemonade,” I say. Once we have our drinks, we take a seat by the window. “What do you do for work?” I ask.

“Nothing as exciting as you having your very own sweet shop,” he answers, taking a drink of his orange juice.

I smile. “It’s not my shop. My grandmother owns it, and I just run it for her.”

“Still,” he shrugs, “every kid dreams of having a sweet shop.”

“I dream of owning my own bar,” I say, then add, “a cocktail bar.”.

“That sounds amazing. Cocktail bars are all the rage. Is it a dream or will you make it a reality one day?”

“I have some savings, so maybe one day. My grandmother thinks there are too many bars in London. She thinks I should settle for the shop.”

“Can there ever be enough bars?” he chuckles.

“So,” I say, relaxing back into my chair, “how do you know me?”

“I saw you in the shop. I have a job that gives me access to details. I’m not proud to admit it, but I looked you up,” he says, smiling again and showing off two dimples in his cheeks.

“You’re a cop?” I ask.

“Would you mind if I was?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Why would I?”

“Some people hate the cops. Like your friends over at the Kings Reapers,” he says, watching me carefully.

“I hardly know them,” I say. “One of their members sometimes comes in the shop. We’re not together or