Page 6 of Lost King

"What are you so afraid of?" Liam asks.

Liam doesn't have an issue with the ladies. I would even venture to say he's a little bit of a player. "The worst she can do is say no. Go for it," I do my best to encourage him.

Aiden never says anymore about the subject as we steadily work and talk about other issues, but I can tell he's thinking heavily about it. Before I know it, an hour has passed and it's time to go.

"Alright, guys," I wipe the excess grease from my hands with a shop rag. "I got to run. Liam, let me know if you're still interested in that bike you were lookin' at. I'll ride with you to take a look at it and make sure the guy is givin' you a fair deal."

"You got it," he waits for Aiden and me to step out before closing the shed doors and locking the padlock.

"Aiden," I clasp my hand over his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze, "ask her," I say before letting him go.

With a confident grin, he lets me know, "I'm gonna do it."

"That's what I'm talkin' about, kid."

I've been under the hood of my dad's car all of ten minutes after telling him about my day when I feel his eyes burnin' a hole through the side of my head. "There somethin' you wantin' to ask me, Dad?"

"With all the good, solid advice you give these kids you can't take the same advice you're dishing out? If I remember right, you've been pining after a particular doctor for a while now. When are you going to do something about it?"

He had to call me out. I tighten the bolt one more turn. "I'm not pining."

He grunts in response.

"Okay, maybe I'm pining a little." Standing from being bent over the backside of the motor, I snatch my beer that's sitting on the front bumper of the car and take a huge gulp. "She not making it easy ya know," I confess.

My dad laughs and drinks down the last of the beer he was holding in his hand. "The right woman won't make it easy for you to catch her, son. I knew the moment I saw your mom she was the one. I've been stupid crazy in love with her since the day she sat next to me in chemistry class years ago. She didn't make it easy either, let me tell you. I was a slacker surfer boy. I lived and breathed the beach—the waves and chasing girls. Your mom was popular, smart and had her shit together and wanted nothing to do with me and my reputation."

I've heard all about my dad's high school days, so my mom had every reason to worry if she would be just another notch on his bedpost.

"I had to prove to her I wanted her and only her," he finishes.

"Took him over a year to convince me to go on that first date."

Startled by the sweet sound of my mom's voice, my dad and I look over at the garage door to find my mom leaning against the doorframe with one hand on the door's handle. My dad walks over, grabs her waist, pulling her close and admiringly looks at her. "It was worth the wait. I'd do it all over again to be able to relive the first time my lips touched yours," he kisses her.

They are the example of what I want.

My mom offers her opinion on the Emerson matter, which means she had been standing there listening longer than we realized. "I see the way she looks at you when you aren't looking, sweetie. I don't know her well enough to know what she's battling, but I assure you, Emerson wants you too."

My mom is right. I catch her stare often.

I feel the energy in it.

It's high time I make my intention very clear to Emerson.

Chapter Four

Emerson

I'm sitting at a stoplight on my way to the airport when I hear the rumble of a motorcycle. I smile thinking of Quinn. But when I turn my head to the right and look out the passenger window of my Jeep, the smile I had moments ago falls. The person on the motorcycle next to me is not Quinn. In fact, he's not even a King. The man is wearing a cut like The Kings, but his is sporting different colors. When he turns and looks at me, I instantly feel the hairs on my arms stand, and a shiver runs through my body. We both sit there at the light holding each other's stare until a car behind me honks their horn. A second later, the biker drives off before I even get a good look at the name on his cut. I make a mental note to say something to one of the guys when I get back in town. I'll see them on Sunday at the patch-in party. I don't like to involve myself in anyone's business, especially the clubs, but something tells me I need to say something.

Parking at the airport, I grab my overnight carry-on bag from the seat beside me, lock my door and make my way inside to catch my flight to Seattle. I dread this trip home. I wish I could have a simple visit with my parents, one that involved hugs and catching up on life, but I know that won't be the case. My mother no doubt has something up her sleeve. Probably another blind date. She means well, and I know she wants to see me settled down and happy. I just wish she would ask me what would make me happy—what I want. With a heavy sigh, I store my bag in the compartment over my seat before sitting down. Once the plane has taken off, I take my phone from my purse, put my earbuds in and turn my playlist on. The flight to Seattle from Polson is a short one, and I need to relax before getting there. Lord knows I'm going to need all the patience I can muster.

"You going to get out lady?" The driver of the taxi I am currently sitting in asks knocking me out of my daze. I didn't realized we'd arrived at my parent's house. "Yes. I'm sorry." I tell the guy as I gather my things and get out of the car.

"Alright, Emerson. Let's get this over with. It's only one day," I say giving myself a pep talk. Using my key, I let myself into my parent's house-the same house I grew up in. They bought it a year before Easton and I were born. It's a two-story house in the suburbs of Redmond which is about twenty minutes from Seattle. My mother is the attending physician at the Seattle Children's Hospital, and my father holds the same position at Northwest.

"Hello," I call out and shut the door behind me.