Train's Clash
Page 51

“Do you see me staring at anyone but you?”
“Just checking.”
She gripped his ass tighter as they danced a couple of songs before deciding to play pool. She won all three games and, when Rabbit asked if he could play, she let the two men have it, taking a stool to watch.
She ordered beers for the men who gathered around to watch Train beat Rabbit, and then he won against Bear. When he won against Pike, she ordered them all a shot of whiskey.
“Where you going? Let’s play another game.”
Train shook his head when Pike tried to coax him into another game. “Another time. I don’t want Killyama getting bored.”
Killyama tipped her shot glass, saluting him. “Good save. You know they’re all scared of me and wouldn’t bug you to play after that excuse.”
He grinned. “It worked, didn’t it?”
She smiled back, giving him the beer she had ordered for him.
He was thirstily drinking it when Jenna held out her hand. “That’ll be a hundred and seventy-five dollars.”
Train lowered his beer bottle, staring down at it like it was somehow made out of gold. “I thought a beer is five bucks if you don’t belong to the club. If it costs me a hundred and seventy-five dollars for you to bring it to me, next time, I’ll get it out of the cooler myself.”
“It’s not for one beer. Killyama said the last three rounds for the men were on you.”
Train tilted his beer to his mouth, finishing it before setting it down on the table. Then he reached for his wallet.
Killyama humorously watched him fork over the money he had just won.
“Nice wallet,” Jenna complimented, counting the cash he had given her.
“Thanks. It was a gift.” Train waited until Jenna went back behind the counter before he took the shot of tequila Killyama was about to drink.
“Hey … That was mine.” She couldn’t help laughing at his disgruntled expression.
“Want to tell me why I bought, not one, but three rounds of beer?”
“The first two rounds were beer. The last one was whiskey.”
Train choked on her shot of tequila.
“And it was cheaper than a visit to the emergency room, which is where the brothers would have sent you if you had won another game. The only reason your ass isn’t in an ambulance right now is because I was smart enough to buy those rounds for them, and because they’re slow as shit and didn’t know they were dealing with a pool shark until you beat Pike.” She swiveled on the stool she was sitting on. “Jenna, bring me another shot of tequila and another beer for Train,” she yelled out before turning back to him.
“Am I buying that, too?”
“No, it’s on me. Don’t be pissy. You’re lucky I got over my mad spell with you and we’re friends now. Before, I would have warned them. I’m a good pool player, but I’m not that good.” She rolled her eyes at his lame attempt to get on her good side by letting her win all three games.
“Lucky me,” he grumbled.
It took another beer before she could talk him into dancing with her again. When they sat down to take a break, several men pulled chairs up to join them.
“Where’s the rest of the crew tonight?” Calder asked. “I haven’t seen Stud tonight, either.”
Killyama cocked her head at Train as he deliberately pulled her chair closer to his, dropping an arm over her shoulder. He was practically pissing on her chair to stake her as his property.
“Stud and Sex Piston had a teacher’s conference with Meri and Keri’s teacher. Sex Piston keeps making up excuses for missing, so both of them went this time. Crazy Bitch and T.A. are out on a double date, and Fat Louise and Cade are hanging out at their house with their baby.”
“The girls in trouble?” Before Calder had gone to prison, he wouldn’t have cared less if the girls were in trouble. Then prison and the rehab Stud had sent him to had given him the opportunity to get clean. It had taken time for him to mend fences within the club and form relationships with his nieces and nephew.
“No, the girls want to be foreign exchange students next year, and Sex Piston is fighting it all the way.”
“What does Stud think about it?”
“You know Stud; he isn’t crazy about it, either, but it’s not like he can spring for a family trip to Paris.”
“I’m with Sex Piston. Two young girls in Paris? Stud would just be asking for trouble.”
Killyama stiffened. “I don’t know why not. I told Sex Piston she should let them go,” she lied. She wasn’t about to offer any advice when it was Stud and Sex Piston’s call to make. If they felt the girls could act responsible, then she was all for it. “You think they’ll bang any man with a French accent?”
“Wouldn’t you?”
“Hell yes, but that’s me, not Meri and Keri.”
Train dropped his arm from around her shoulder. “You’d fuck a man just because he had a French accent?”
“Hell yes.” She wasn’t about to back down in front of the men. “What woman wouldn’t? It’s called the city of love for a reason.” She fucking cracked herself up. Crazy Bitch was usually the one who enjoyed baiting the men in the club, but since she was AWOL, Killyama decided to fill in for her. “All I’d have to hear is three simple words: ‘Welcome to Paris,’ in French, and I’d do him.”
Train rose to his feet. “Really? That’s all it would take to get you in bed?”
Killyama had meant to aggravate Calder, not Train. That was just a bonus. He was sexy as hell when he was jealous …
“Bienvenue a Paris.”
“What’d you say?” Killyama put her finger in her ear, trying to pop the plug that kept her from understanding what he had said.
Train repeat the unintelligible words again. Then he repeated it in the only language she understood.
“I said, Welcome to Paris.”
 
 
23
 
 
“Go home, asshole! You’re going to wake my neighbors!”
Train tried to reason with the furious woman, but she ignored all of his attempts to cool her down. The only reason he had managed to get her on his bike was because she had been damned by her own words. Then she had taken off like a scalded cat as soon as he had parked at her apartment building.
If he hadn’t kept up his military training, he wouldn’t have made it to her door in time before she could lock herself inside. He had barely managed to jam a boot in the door to keep her from closing it.
She braced her shoulder against the door as he tried to reason with her to let him inside. She was still trying to lock him out when she heard her next-door neighbor ask if there was a problem.
Frustrated, she let the him inside, and Train held his hands up in the air as he shut the door with his boot.
Train cautiously eyed her over as they faced off. Her hair was a tumbled mass of curls as she held his helmet, and he could see her perfect breasts trembling under the silky black top she wore.
He chose his words wisely, not wanting to find out the hard way if she had inherited her mother’s habit of head bashing.
“It better be English,” she warned when he opened his mouth.