Vodka On The Rocks (The Uncertain Saints Book 3) (3 page)

Casten’s eyes were roaming all over me when I opened my eyes once again.

“Casten?” I repeated.

I wasn’t the least bit worried about him seeing me.

The glass was frosted, and I knew he could only see the silhouette of my body.

Casten’s eyes snapped back up to my face.

“Your car was broken into last night, and since George saw you leave with me, he called me,” he explained.

I wanted to slap myself.

I should’ve known that something would’ve happened to my car.

I’d left it at the new bar in town after running at the track. The one that had just opened a few weeks ago, right on the banks of the Caddo River.

It wasn’t in the best part of the city, and obviously that had now been proven.

“What’s wrong with it?” I sighed, turning the faucets off.

I grabbed the towel off the towel rack just outside the shower, then wrapped it around myself before I stepped fully out of the shower.

The cool air-conditioned air blew over my wet body like a breeze, and I let my eyes connect with Casten’s.

“What?” he asked once I stared at him too long.

“What’s wrong with my car?” I asked again, walking past him to my bedroom.

I pulled on a bra that I’d left out on my dresser, pulling it on over my towel, and moved to my panty drawer for the matching pair of panties.

I knew why I did this.

Sure, they were uncomfortable as hell, and I didn’t like the way my butt cheeks felt like they were hanging out when I moved. But they were sexy, and I liked the way Casten’s eyes widened slightly when he saw them.

His face, though, remained blank as he watched me slip the panties on underneath my towel.

Once somewhat covered, I dropped the towel and walked to my closet, keenly aware of how much of my body was exposed.

I felt Casten’s eyes on me until I disappeared inside the closet. Once I was out of his line of sight, I let out the breath I’d been holding to suck in my stomach.

My belly was flabby, and my thighs jiggled a little more than I would like.

I’d gotten soft since I started coaching volleyball instead of playing it.

I’d gone up in dress sizes, too.

Needless to say, I was a little self-conscious about all the new curves.

But from the look on Casten’s no longer blank face, I had succeeded in sucking my stomach in long enough to make it look somewhat flat again.

Quickly, I dressed in skin tight volleyball shorts.

The shorts molded to every single curve of my body, from my waist to about four inches below my crotch.

The shirt I chose said, ‘We hit it hard. We get it from our mommas.’

It was the one I’d had made in high school during our school playoffs.

It was on the verge of needing to be thrown away, but it was my lucky shirt.

And it was soft.

And I liked the way Casten’s eyes travelled to my chest the moment I walked out of the closet.

“Nice shirt,” he rumbled.

“My car?” I repeated as I sat on the bed.

“Your car’s fine. They just stole the radio…and your rims,” Casten said slowly.

I blinked.

“They stole my rims…but not my tires?” I asked, looking up at him as I smoothed my socks up over my calves, then shoved both of my feet into my tennis shoes.

He nodded.

“They did,” he confirmed.

“But…how?” confusion clouding my face as I stood up and faced him.

He had his arms crossed over his chest, and he was staring at me like he wasn’t affected by me at all.

“They took them off the car, slashed the tires with fucking bolt cutters or something, and stole the rims,” he said.

“Bolt cutters?” I shouted.

He nodded.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “The core of the tire is made of a solid structure of wire and metal.”

That was news to me.

Although, I’d never actually had a flat tire before, so I’d never had the chance see what they were made of on the inside.

“That’s unfortunate,” I grumbled. “Can you take me to work?”

He shook his head.

“No,” he said. “I have to go to work myself.”

I blinked.

“Then why are you here?” I crossed my arms.

He shrugged. “I thought you’d want to know about your car.”

“So you thought I’d want to know,” I drawled, leaving the room. “But you weren’t willing to help me get to work.”

He followed me into the kitchen where I poured myself a travel mug full of coffee.

Once I had it creamy and at the perfect tastiness, I grabbed my purse and phone out of my room, then exited the apartment.

All the while under Casten’s watchful eyes.

He followed me out, and I faintly heard both locks click.

I vaguely wondered how he managed to lock the deadbolt but decided not to worry about it.

If I hurried, I could make it to the high school in less than twenty minutes, but I had to walk fast.

It was something I’d done before.

My car wasn’t the most reliable, but it was all mine and it was paid for.

So there was that.

“What are you doing?” Casten questioned from behind me.

I looked back over my shoulder at him.

“I’m walking. What does it look like I’m doing?” I growled, turning back around.

I waved to the old lady that ran a hardware store to the left of the bar I lived above, but, as usual, she didn’t wave back.

That was because she didn’t have any arms, not because she was rude.

She was a nearly life-long, pack a day smoker, and because of a smoking related circulatory disease, both of her arms had been amputated.

Not that I’d asked.

She’d been very forthcoming with her business, as well as everyone else’s.

“Why are you walking? Why not just call your sister?” He was right behind me, dogging my steps.

I shrugged.

“My sister has Vitaly,” I shrugged. “By the time she got all the way out here, I’d wind up being late when I could’ve just walked and been on time. And there’s no reason to get her all the way out here to just to give me a ride, when I’m so close to my work.”

Casten growled in frustration, then I heard his boots hit the pavement at my back.

I hadn’t expected him to let me walk on my own.

I’d expected him to offer me a ride.

But did he?

Hell no.

He did follow beside me at a snail’s pace, though.

“What are you doing?” I glared at him when he moved up to my side.

He was driving on the sidewalk, and I refrained from telling him that wasn’t allowed.

Casten struck me as the type of man to do what he wanted and ask for forgiveness later.

And he wouldn’t care, even if he were caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing.

“I’m riding beside you,” he sounded tired.

“Why?”

“Because if I asked you to get on my bike right now, you’d say no out of principle since I told you no earlier,” Casten said. “And I’m not letting you walk to work this early in the morning without someone to follow you, in case you get mugged or something.”

I cast him an annoyed glance. “What makes you think I can’t take care of myself?”

“I’m not saying you can’t,” he grunted. “I’m just saying you’re not going to get your ass kicked when I could’ve done something to prevent it. So I’m doing something.”

I huffed, but shut up shortly afterwards.

He made a weird sort of sense.

“Your phone’s lighting your purse up,” Casten observed, interrupting my thoughts.

I frowned, wondering who in their right mind would be texting this early in the morning.

My phone only lit up for text messages.

I was a lazy person by nature.

And since the majority of the time it was on silent, the only thing that distinguished a text from a call was a flash of light from my phone.

“Thanks,” I grumbled, swiping the phone open.

Hello
, the strange number’s text read.

Me: Who is this?

Strange number: We met at the bar last night. It was nice to meet you.

I blinked, then turned to Casten.

“Did I meet any weird men and give them my number?” I questioned him.

He shook his head.

“Not from what I saw. You were there the entire time I was,” he answered.

I was?

“I was?” I echoed my thoughts.

He nodded. “Was sitting in the back when you came in. You sat down, and you looked a little weird, so I came to sit with you. You never gave anyone your number.”

I blinked, then handed him the phone.

He kept rolling as he scrolled over the message, then frowned.

“Ignore him,” he grunted.

I nodded, hitting delete on the messages, then dropping it back into my bag.

“Are you going to make me do this the entire way there or are you going to get on?” He lifted his brows at me.

“I’m going to make you drive to that stop sign right there,” I pointed. “Then I’m going to go into that coffee shop and get myself another cup of coffee, then I’ll come back and get on your bike.”

He nodded, not complaining at all that I was making him wait.

Nor that I was weird, because I got that a lot, too.

“Bring me a black coffee,” Casten ordered as I turned to go into the coffee shop.

I smiled at him over my shoulder, walking into the coffee shop.

“I need a black coffee, large,” I smiled at the barista.

“Name?” The little barista looked bored.

“George,” I smirked, but I pronounced it in a Spanish accent, the way Kassie pronounced her father’s name, whose bar I’d been at last night.

The girl nodded, writing on the cup.

“What else?” she continued, ringing up the black coffee.

I studied the board in front of me.

“Do you have any pumpkin spice coffee?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No. Teeny only has what you see listed here,” she gestured, pointing to a list in front of my face.

Idly I wondered just who “Teeny” was, but decided it’d go faster if I didn’t let my natural curiosity take over this morning.

I had a hot biker on his motorcycle outside waiting patiently for me, and I didn’t want him to leave me.

I nodded.

“I want a mocha latte, medium,” I smiled.

“Name?”

“Donna,” I quipped cheerfully.

She looked at me like I was lying…which I was.

But how did she know that?

Who said I had to give her
my
name?

“Thank you,” I said as I handed her a ten-dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

The barista smiled faintly, nodding to the customer that was at my back.

I left, shouldering the door open, then walking straight to Casten where he still sat on his bike.

Both of his muscular thighs hugged the motorcycle as he firmly planted both feet on the ground to hold the powerful machine steady.

The bike was loud, too.

He took his cup, looked at the name that was on the cup, and then back at me with a lifted eyebrow in question.

“What?” I feigned innocence.

He turned the cup around, allowing me to see the name, and I burst out laughing.

“Oh, my God!” I wheezed. “I told her George in a Spanish accent. Not
Whore Hey
!”

Casten rolled his eyes and placed his drink into a cup holder that magically appeared on the handlebars.

I’d thought the circle thing was just decoration, but obviously it was functional as well.

I, on the other hand, had to hold my drink.

Which worked out well because if I had to put my arms around him, I might start thinking inappropriate thoughts.

Three minutes later, we arrived at the school, with only minutes to spare, before I was supposed to start practice.

“Sorry, ladies,” I called, dismounting the bike from behind Casten.

The girls stared at me like they’d never seen me before.

“What?” I shooed them out of my way as Casten turned his bike off. “What are you doing?” I asked before they could answer.

Casten nodded at a dark car in the parking lot that was completely away from all of the players’ cars.

“Whose car is that?” He studied it.

It was parked nearly in the back of the lot, away from any of the lights that lit up the rest of the lot.

It was six in the morning, and the sun barely started to rise, meaning there wasn’t much, if anything, to see.

“Not ours,” Tiffany looked.

“It was here when I got here today, and I was the first,” Jody nodded.

I shrugged, then unlocked the door to the gym.

“You go in here alone?” Casten asked, stopping me from opening it all the way.

I nodded.

“Yes.”

His eyes narrowed, and he opened the door and disappeared inside without asking.

Lights appeared throughout the long hallway.

We shared the hallway with the other sports teams, and all of the coaches had offices in the hallway as well.

He was gone for nearly ten minutes while the lot of us squeezed into the hallway waiting for him to come back.

“Who’s that, Coach?” Adriana whispered.

I looked at her.

She was the youngest, at fifteen, and the only freshman on the team.

She was good, too.

And would probably be amazing by the time she graduated in four years.

“That’s Casten,” I answered her, purposefully skipping the part where I told them exactly what he was to me.

“He’s hot,” Elsa chirped.

I smiled at her.

“He is.”

“It’s all clear,” Casten came back, startling us all by appearing behind us and not in front of us.

“How’d you get in?” I squeaked.

The door had been locked, and I knew this for sure because I’d been the one to lock it.

“The car was gone when I came around the front,” he conveniently didn’t answer my question.

I blinked.

“Why are you trying to scare us?” I poked him.

“This isn’t safe. Y’all are women, and this is a big place with lots of places to hide,” he looked at the hallway beyond me. “There’s no reason in the world that y’all should be here without a security system to make sure that the inside is free of squatters. You shouldn’t have to wonder if you’re ever alone.”