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As I sat up, she knelt between my legs, her gaze fixed on mine. “You’re me,” I began, hesitating.
Her head tilted in confusion. “Okay?”
“I mean, I’ve been where you are,” I clarified, “and I don’t want you to think you’re not meant to be here. I know if I was you, I would be so fucking wary of anything coming out of my mouth.”
Poppy nodded in understanding, her expression mirroring the skepticism I had once worn like armor.
“When I told you that you could make payments on your car, what did you think?” I asked, curious about her perspective.
Chewing on her bottom lip, she hesitated before replying, “Uh, that I was going to have to do something for you.”
I nodded, the familiarity of her response weighing heavily. “And what did you think when I didn’t ask for anything in return?”
“That I just needed to wait for the other shoe to drop,” she admitted quietly.
Her words resonated with me. “It’s not going to,” I assured her. “Not with me.”
I gestured around the room, encompassing my sanctuary. “Not with the club. I’m not saying the world is a great place where you can trust everyone, but here, inside these walls, you can trust us. No one here will ever give you something and expect something in return.” I reached out and cupped her face in my hand. “Most of all, me.”
“I know,” she whispered, though her uncertainty lingered.
“How long is it going to take you to believe it?” I asked softly, my thumb tracing her cheek.
“How long did it take you?” she countered.
I smirked, the bitterness of my past experiences still fresh in my memory. “Ask me in about ten years, babe.”
Poppy smiled softly, understanding dawning in her eyes. “So you’re saying I just need to find a group of people to trust, but screw the world?”
“Well, yeah, but I’m sure there is a better way to say it,” I chuckled, pulling her into my lap. “You okay with this?” I asked, not wanting to assume anything.
Resting her head against my chest, she sighed contentedly. “I’m not complaining.”
I wrapped my arms around her, feeling a sense of belonging I hadn’t realized I craved. “Are you good with this?” I asked, wanting her reassurance.
“I’d have to be a fool not to be okay with being a human blanket for the sexy biker,” she teased her laughter music to my ears. “This is much more comfortable than kneeling on the floor all night,” she added, her giggles infectious.
“Crazy girl,” I whispered, unable to contain the warmth in my chest.
“Thank you, Yarder,” she said softly, sincerity lacing her words. “You helped me when you didn’t have to. You see me, and you have no idea how much that means to me.”
Holding her close, I vowed silently to protect her from the world’s cruelties, to shield her from the pain I knew all too well. She had found her way into my world, and I would do everything in my power to make sure she never felt alone again.
Chapter Fourteen
Poppy
Sloane, Dove, Olive, and I were sprawled out on the couches in front of the TV, watching some show I had never seen before. It had been five days since Yarder and I had first cuddled on the couch in our bedroom, and since then, it had become somewhat of a routine. Every night, Yarder would join me for a movie, and without fail, we’d end up in the same position – me wrapped up in his arms, feeling safe.
“I’m so freaking bored being trapped in this clubhouse,” Dove complained, breaking the silence.
“I’m climbing the walls,” Sloane sighed dramatically. “My MC books lied when they said club lockdowns were just one big party. This is boring with a capital B.”
I couldn’t share their sentiment entirely. While it would be nice to venture outside, the lockdown was necessary for our safety, given the threat we faced from dangerous men. And I liked feeling safe. I hadn’t felt that for a long, long time.
“Have you heard from your dad lately?” Olive asked Dove, concern lacing her voice.
Dove shook her head. “Not a peep. Throttle keeps saying I won’t hear from him, so Gibbs and Boone won’t suspect he’s telling me secrets or something.” Her sigh spoke volumes. “Just a hey, I’m not dead would be good to hear from him.”
