Page 119 of Diary of a Biker Queen

I bit my lip, glancing up at the stage where one of my favorite bands was playing. I didn’t want to ditch Amber this early, but I so badly wanted to be right in the thick of it when they played my favorite song.

“Sure, okay,” I answered, stopping to follow her.

Kyle glanced over at me. “This is your favorite band.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. He’d sat on the end of my bed for enough lazy afternoons while I played their albums. He’d laid me out on that bed, kissing every inch of my skin while the lead singer’s voice filled the room.

He knew.

He glanced over at Herb and Chirp. “Get drinks with Amber. Do not leave her alone. I’m taking Kiki to the front of the stage.”

Chirp looked toward it, and crinkled his face. “There’s a ton of people. You’ll never get through.”

Kyle just walked backward, tugging me along with him. “I’ll get through.”

His dark eyes filled with determination, and he led me around the other people watching and dancing, tapping a few on the shoulder and speaking in their ears before they stepped back and let us pass. Before the song had even finished, he had me up against the front row barrier, his chest to my back, his strong arms either side of me to protect from the crush of other people around me.

I twisted to look up at him. “How did you do that? Did you pull your biker card and threaten violence and mayhem?”

He shrugged. “I just told them my girlfriend loved this band and asked them nicely if we could go in front.”

I hid a smile, because of course he had.

I turned back to the stage but leaned back against Kyle, reaching back to hold him to me, wanting him close.

Night had fallen completely, and the stage lights cast a pink-and-purple glow over all of us watching. Around me, the diehard fans sang every word, and I joined in, knowing them all by heart.

I moved against Kyle, keeping the beat in my body, each pound of drums, each twang of the guitar, and every word falling from the singer’s lips joining together in a heady swirl.

His arm came around me, his hand resting just below my tits, his thumb settling just between them in a place that somehow felt more intimate than when he was inside me. There was something a little bit possessive about it, the touch too obviously personal to be casual.

It shouldn’t have surprised me. The man had been telling me he loved me for weeks. He told people I was his girlfriend.

I had struggled to believe any of it.

The band changed songs, and suddenly the first few bars of my favorite floated through the night air. My heart leaped, and I dug my fingers into the side of Kyle’s leg. “They’re playing ‘Everleigh’!”

I closed my eyes, swaying to the beat, wanting to sing along, but also wanting to hear the singer’s voice as he sang the lyrics I knew so well it was like they were ingrained in my chest.

Kyle moved with me, his hips against my ass, rocking side to side in the darkness, surrounded by people and yet feeling like it was just him, me, and the band.

He lowered his mouth to kiss my neck, and I reached up to hook my arm around his, enjoying the feel of him there.

“You know what I think about when you play this song?” he whispered in my ear.

I shook my head.

His lips brushed over my ear. “I think about the little girl we’ll have one day. And we’ll name her Everleigh.”

I froze. And then spun around to face him, staring up at him with eyes so wide they kind of hurt. “Why would you say that?” I asked over the music.

He shrugged. “Because it’s true.” And then he frowned. “It doesn’t have to be Everleigh. I just thought it was pretty, and you love this song so much that it seemed a good fit—”

I pressed my finger to his lips. “I love you.”

He did a double take. “You what?”

I grinned at him. “I love you.”