Page 37 of Diary of a Biker Queen

I ground my teeth, but I already knew Amber well enough to know she wasn’t going to knock it off with that fucking video, but I didn’t need to stick around to see it.

Embarrassment heated my neck to the point my skin felt too hot. It had been like that all day, only getting worse when I’d had to sit in the damn locker room and listen to Luca tell Nyah all about how I was such a pathetic fool, stupidly in love with a woman who had no interest in me.

I didn’t want to see the look on her face when Amber showed her the video and Nyah got all awkward because she’d just heard what her “brother” must be like in bed.

I wanted the earth to swallow me up and never spit me back out. Which was not the best feeling when I was already triggered, my control barely hanging on by a thread.

The common room was too loud. Too hot. There were too many people. I left them all to it, slipping away silently, unnoticed, and letting myself into my bedroom. I flopped down onto my bed and stared at the ceiling.

The door opened no less than a minute later, and Luca walked in, like my room was his.

“I’ve been on the phone all day, working on poaching us some new players. There’s these two guys, twins. They’re fucking amazing. One plays for Providence, the other—”

I rolled to my side and glared at him. “Don’t you think you should have run that by me before you started making calls? You literally know nothing about hockey. How the hell would you know if a player is amazing?”

Luca blinked at the sharp tone. “I thought that’s exactly what I was doing now?”

I shifted back to stare at the ceiling again. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever, Luca. Do your thing.”

The room was small enough I was overly aware of his presence. I knew exactly what he was doing even without glancing in his direction.

He folded his arms across his chest and leaned his ass against the chest of drawers beneath the window. “So…you’re mad at me. What did I do now?”

“Nothing, Luca. You’re perfect. You could do no wrong. Everyone loves you.”

He snorted at that idea. “Yeah, I’m Mister Popular. All that drug running and human trafficking my father had me doing has made me everyone’s favorite. They absolutely adore me around here. So much so that I’m pretty sure War is erecting a statue in the parking lot in my honor.”

His sarcasm was thick, and he had a point. I didn’t know the full extent of Luca’s history with the club, only what I’d heard in murmured conversations, and while him getting his sister away from her abusive, too-old-for-her husband, had gone a long way to gain him some favor with the Slayers, it was clear the men here didn’t all trust him.

They weren’t openly hostile, but there was a clear level of wariness, evident in the way conversations dried up when Luca walked in the room.

And yet I knew he was so fucking charming he would have the entire club eating out of his hand within the week.

Luca Guerra had something about him that made him impossible to ignore. Impossible not to see.

It was no fucking wonder he had Nyah wet and trembling, hanging on his every word.

While I was relegated to the role of bodyguard, the man who stood in the corner and was so unseen she could fuck other men right in front of me and nobody batted a damn eyelid.

When my emotions hadn’t been this raw, it had been fine. But ever since the night in Scotland, my entire nervous system had been firing on high and everything felt bigger and worse than it had a few days earlier.

I was being an asshole. “Sorry.”

But Luca wasn’t having my apology. “No, you aren’t. Say what you really wanted to say.”

I shook my head, fighting off the red rising feeling that would inevitably lead to me blacking out and waking up in a pool of someone else’s blood. “I said I was sorry.”

“Then look me in the eye and say it like you mean it.”

Oh, fuck him. He was such an arrogant prick. I sat up, then stood because I hated that on the bed, I felt smaller than him. He needed to be reminded who I was. That I wasn’t just the nice guy bodyguard who stood patiently to one side while he fucked the woman I wanted. I wasn’t just the man he fumbled around with in the dark when he thought no one was watching.

I was the cold-blooded killer who couldn’t get his emotions under control and was going to lose his shit if Luca didn’t stop pushing his fucking luck.

I went nose to nose with him, my grip on my patience snapping. “Why the fuck did you tell Nyah I was in love with her?”

Luca blinked. It clearly wasn’t what he’d expected me to say.

I probably had an identical expression because it wasn’t what I’d expected to say either.