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“Greta,” I laughed, “he’s like seven years older than you. When he was little, you weren’t even born.”
She scoffed and shook her head. “Girl, I’m talking when he was like fourteen and fifteen. He was always running around with Frost even though Frost was like three or four years younger than him.”
“You really all grew up together?”
Greta nodded. “Sure as shit did. Not like we really had much choice in the matter. With all of our dads being in the club and then our moms being best friends, we were just always at the clubhouse.”
“Sounds like fun to me.”
“For the most part, it was. There were times we got on each other's nerves. I still remember when Jonas was eight and he punched Pie right in the nuts.” Greta cackled. “Oh, God, that was the funniest thing ever. After he did it, Jonas thought he killed Pie because he dropped to the ground and moaned like a cow in heat. He thought King was going to kick his ass for killing Pie.”
“I don’t think I’ve met Jonas yet.” Hell, I hadn’t really met many of the guys in the club. Snapper and Frost were basically it.
“Oh, shit.” Greta waved her hand. “Forget I said that. I forgot he has a road name now. He’ll always just be Jonas to me. Snapper punched Pie in the nuts.”
“Oh, I met him. He was at the door of Sultry Knights last night.” Though now I knew his real name was Jonas. Greta was spilling biker secrets.
“Yeah, he’s a good kid. His dad was in the club, and he died in an accident when he was only three. King and Meg adopted him along with basically the whole club.”
Well, damn. That was awful. “Wow. That’s crazy.”
Greta grabbed a breadstick and pointed it at me. “Enough about the club. Let’s talk about you and Hero. What was with the long face after you got off the phone with him?” she asked.
I sighed and pushed around the last bite of lasagna with my fork. “He just was kind of short with me. I know I’m being overly sensitive, but I didn’t really see it coming.”
“I’m assuming the reason why he ditched you tonight was for club business, right?”
I shrugged. “I think so. He just said he was doing something and that something came up and he couldn’t come.”
“No other detail than that?”
“Nope.”
“Club business.” Greta rolled her eyes. “Girl, I’m going to tell you right now there aren’t going to be any other words you hate more than those for however long you’re with Hero.”
“I’m not with Hero,” I pointed out.
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Why would you say you aren’t?”
“Huh, well, the most obvious reason why we’re not together is because we’ve barely known each other for a week.”
She waved her hand at me. “Time means nothing to these guys. I know all of the stories of King, Rigid, Demon, Slider,” she rattled off. “The only one who wasn’t wham bam thank you ma’am was Gravel, but that was only because Ether was married when he got the hots for her.”
“Uh, huh?” The only name I knew was King, but I had never met him.
“You’ll learn the names soon enough. That’s not my point.” She tucked her legs beneath her and turned on the couch to face me. “All you need to know is these guys may come off as assholes sometimes and bark about club business, but at the end of the day, all they want is a woman to come home to. And when they meet that woman, nothing else matters. Time, pfft. For these guys, one day is like a month. As far as Hero is concerned, it probably feels like four months that you’ve known each other. They live hard and love even harder, Reva.”
I waved my hand in her face. “Hold up. No one said anything about love. We were talking about me being with him.”
Greta sighed. “Jesus. This is so hard for people outside of the club to get. Let me just put it this way. These guys see what they like and they take it. That’s it. Hero saw you. Liked you. Now you’re his.” She sat back and folded her arms over her chest. “You’ll be much better off if you just accept it. I mean, as long as you like him, too. If you don’t, then you better change the locks and tell him to get lost,” she advised.
“Uh, well. I don’t want him to get lost, but I’m not too sure about throwing that L word around.” I just wanted things to slow down. A little. Teeny tiny bit.
“Then you might as well buckle in and just hold on, sugar, because as hard as it is for you to wrap your head around, you’ve been claimed by the biker.”
My head swirled with everything Greta had just said. Water wasn’t going to cut it tonight. I had said I wasn’t drinking, but maybe a glass of wine would help me process what she had said a little bit better.
I gathered the empty plates and headed into the kitchen.
