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The sound of his voice stirred everything inside of me all over again. It sent my thoughts scattering with the wind, and I was hurled through more feelings than I could really name.

Part of me felt triumphant that he’d trotted after me.

As angry as I’d been five minutes ago, I was hanging on his every word now. And, as much as I hated that he had the ability to do that to me, I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face as I watched him back his brother off.

Elation. Anger. How the fuck did one patched-up bozo have the ability to make me feel so many different things at once?

Especially when I knew how shallow he really was.

“Careful, they’re going to think you’re making a claim,” I teased, while pointedly shifting my gaze to the rearview mirror.

Just as I’d hoped, Rigs was all but steaming on the sidewalk behind us. Her arms were crossed; her jaw was set and every few seconds she huffed hard enough for me to see her shoulders drop from where I sat.

“I’m bored,” she loudly whined as she all but stomped with each step she took toward us.

“Yeah, it’s about time we started seeing each other equally. I hear it’s better for communication and shit,” King snorted, holding out his hand.

I raised a brow and stared at his upturned palm for a moment, before begrudgingly placing my hand in his.

He lifted it up to his lips, forcing me to strain my arm or stand up. I chose the latter and stood eye to eye with him for a moment.

“Consider yourself claimed.” He winked, his fingers locking between mine as he led me toward his bike.

I let out a sigh that felt like I’d been holding it in for a century even as I rolled my eyes.

I was definitely not claimed by any of Birdman’s sons. Nor would I ever be, but it was fun playing along. Just for Rigs’s salty benefit, I let my hips sway subtly all the way to my two-wheeled chariot.

“It’s not exactly the kingdom’s finest horse, and you’re not prince charming. But I guess I’ll let you ride off with me. Just this once,” I teased, climbing on behind him.

He snorted, planted a hand on the outside of my thigh that shut me up and pulled off without another word, leaving me inwardly chanting, “He’s just more of the same. More of the same.”

But he wasn’t. I’d never felt the warmth radiating from any of the other Saints’ palms. Sure, my safety had been placed in all of their hands for years, but this was different.

I felt his protective grip not just on my knee where it rested. His touch was contagious and the warmth of it spread up my leg until I was more than aware of the span of his hips between them. When he gunned it at the light and the bike roared, I clung to him a little.

I’d ridden with my dad when I was smaller, but this wasn’t that. I was hyperaware of what I grabbed and how close I allowed my body to snug to his.

“Relax,” King called over the engine, ripping me out of my thoughts and obsessions.

“I am.”

“You’re stiffer than a corpse, darlin’.”

My face pinched. Whether it was from his pet names, or his comparison, I wasn’t sure.

“You got a lot of experience feeling up corpses, do ya?” I shouted at him, but my voice drowned out against the roar of the bike.

He looked back with a fitting smile and a raised brow.

“Never mind.” I mouthed.

I closed my eyes and let the wind wash away all the negativity of the day.

When the bike slowed again, I took advantage of the quiet and called up to him, “I need to get back to the tavern.”

I meant, I needed to get back to my car, so I could go to the tavern. I assumed he understood, until he slowed, and I finally opened my eyes.

We hooked into the parking lot of my father’s establishment, and I fought the urge to correct him. I made a snap decision that it would be easier and cause less of a scene if Roach or someone drove me back to the Kids Center later.