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“He died of a massive heart attack the summer my mom married Donnie.”
Ares gently rolls me onto my back and looks down at me. His face is strong and handsome, his expression dark and dangerous. But it’s the darkness in his deep brown eyes that tells me how much he wants to take this pain from me.
“You don’t ever have to hide from me,” he says, his voice deep and strong. “Do you understand?”
“I thought this was just sex,” I whisper.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t care.”
I like that answer.
So I smile up at him and settle into the warmth of his shoulder.
He doesn’t offer to kill my stepfather.
Which is good.
Because now I am here for entirely different reasons.
Even if I don’t want to admit it.
ARES
It’s Family Day at the clubhouse, and the yard has been transformed into a giant kid’s playground with an inflatable jumping castle and balloons everywhere you look.
The mood in the air is light. Tyler Childer’s “Whitehouse Road” cuts into the sunny afternoon as I watch my club brothers dance with their old ladies on the makeshift dance floor. There’s not a club girl in sight. When Bronte started this tradition a couple of years ago, she made it abundantly clear that the day was about family, not about dicks getting wet. It’s G-rated, and our club girls come with a well-earned triple X rating, so they’re not invited.
Not that our queen has anything against club girls. She’ll party alongside them when the time is right. Hell, I’ve even seen her lick salt from the Tawny-Anne’s double Ds while doing tequila slammers.
But today is about the old ladies and the kids.
And no one fucks with our president’s old lady. She might look angelic, but she’s equal parts angel and demon. Cross her, and she’ll nail you with a look. And if that doesn’t kill you, her fiercely protective husband will happily finish you off.
“Where’s your girl?” Paw asks, sliding into the chair next to me.
I bring my beer to my lips and take a sip before I answer, “I don’t have a girl.”
He gives me a grin. “Just keep telling yourself that, buddy.”
I decide to ignore him. Instead, I look around at the decorated compound. The sound of kids laughing and screaming in the jumping castle makes me smile. My gaze lands on Gambit having his face painted by a fairy in a pink tutu and glittery wings. Beside him, four little girls sit on tiny stools gazing up at him, transfixed as he lets the pretty makeup girl turn him into a fairy princess. He likes her, I can tell by the way he’s turned to putty in her hands, and I don’t doubt he’ll get her number after this.
Across the yard, Merrick is gazing into the eyes of a pretty blonde girl he has his arms around.
At one of the tables, Bam is holding hands with a pretty brunette while his brother, Loki, has his arms around a stunning blonde.
When the hell did the twins get girlfriends?
Hell, is the whole world a couple now?
Or is Rory’s presence in my life highlighting how lonely my life is?
I fight it.
Forming fucking feelings for someone is not on my radar.
But then life has a way of flipping the switch on you.
I would know.
