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Chelsea exhaled a sharp breath. “I don’t doubt that.”
“But you don’t think I could be an Old Lady?”
“I don’t think at eighteen years old you are ready to be an Old Lady.” Her words hurt more than I thought they would, even though I knew she didn’t mean them to be that way. Chelsea was kind and caring.
But she was also the Brothers by Blood MC’s first lady.
And that made her very protective.
Of her family.
Of her son.
Of the club.
My heart knew she was right.
But all my head heard was another person in my life telling me I wasn’t good enough, and somewhere deep down, there was this constant need to prove them wrong.
Which had now made this decision that much harder.
“You ladies good in here?”
We both turned back to find Jaxon standing in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest and a beer bottle hanging from his fingertips.
“Yeah, we just wanted to have a quick bite to eat before you boys got a hold of this and left nothing but crumbs,” Chelsea joked, grabbing a handful of different packets and bags. Jaxon watched her suspiciously as she passed him, a look of innocence on her face I knew he would question.
“Stell? You okay?”
No.
No, I wasn’t.
I was even more confused than before.
Chelsea didn’t think I was ready to be Jaxon’s Old Lady.
My parents didn’t think I was smart enough to get to college on my own.
The real kicker was that no matter what I chose, someone would be proven right.
And that was going to hurt like hell.
“Yeah!” I said enthusiastically, grabbing my bag of chips and pushing my shoulders back before I turned to face Jaxon.
“What’d Mom say that’s got you upset?” he asked, clenching his jaw.
Walking toward him, I laughed and rolled my eyes. “She didn’t say anything.”
“That’s a lie.” He put his arm out before I could pass by him, blocking the doorway and forcing me to stop and look up at him. “My mother never has nothing to say.”
I swallowed hard but kept my composure. “And I never girl-talk and tell.” Reaching up, I pinched at his chin, pulling his face a little closer to mine, and lowering my voice to a whisper. “Especially with a woman as scary as your mom.”
He held my gaze for a long time, his eyes searching mine as if he were looking for something. I wasn’t sure whether he found it or not, but a moment later, his mouth twitched, curling into a smirk. “Touché.”
“Come on.” I took his hand and tugged him back outside. “I’m suddenly feeling very thirsty.”
CHAPTER 8
