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“If you want to dance, it will have to be for my club.”
She glared at me ripping her hand out of mine and stomped out on those big ass heels of hers. Watching the sway of her hips and ass was worth every penny I’d given her.
CHAPTER 5
Sutton
A month had passed since that fateful night when the asshole Storm, President of the Merciless Few MC told me I’d dance at Indecent Proposals or I wouldn’t dance at all. The whole situation made me angry. Who were these bikers to decide where we danced? If I had to do this shit forever, I would be a bitter bitch. The fact that Becky was loving it also irritated me. She adored every part of being with the Merciless Few. Seeing the bikers in their cuts had me wanting to yell out that they were cheap knock-off Sons of Anarchy bitches.
“Whoa, what the fuck Sutton?” Miles winced; blood seeping through his fingers as he inspected his nose.
“Oh shit, did I break your nose?”
Miles sighed. “No, it's not broken, but you hit me hard.”
Amanda hurried over to us with a towel. “You’ve been off for weeks.”
“I’m so sorry,” I sputtered, my eyes growing wide.
Miles titled his head back, towel in hand, “Well, at least I know you can defend yourself.”
We’d been at the gym in our apartment complex once a week since the night my Bug broke down. Miles scheduled time on the mat with each of us as we waited for the self-defense class at the county rec center to be available.
“You’ve been thinking about him again?” Amanda questioned, frowning at me.
“Who?”
“Who, seriously Sutton? The one you’ve been ranting about since the night you met him,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“I’ve not been ranting.” My tone was far from convincing.
“Ah bullshit,” Miles said and removed the towel checking to see if the bleeding had stopped.
I sighed both relieved and annoyed with myself.
My emotions were frayed. They sat on the mat in front of me, Amanda leaning into Miles, his arms instinctively cuddling her into him. Sometimes I was jealous of how in love they were. I’d never felt like that for anyone.
“You just need to get a room and get it over with!” She smirked like she knew a secret.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I huffed and dropped to the floor, glaring at her.
“Pretend all you want, sweetie. It’s as clear as the sky is blue. You have the hots for one bad boy biker!”
Miles kissed her cheek before standing up. “I’m going back to the apartment. See ya later, killer. Amanda, don’t forget we’re going to Link’s party tonight.”
“Yep, I’ll be along, babe,” Amanda smiled at him.
“You guys can be so nauseating sometimes, you know that right?”
“You're just in a bad mood because you know I’m right,” she said and leaned back on her arms, crossing her left knee over her right.
“You know nothing! That asshole told me last night that my dance was offbeat and he hoped he didn’t make a mistake picking me. As if I wanted to be picked like I was some prize calf at the fucking state fair.”
Amanda laughed as she said, “your accent comes out even stronger when you're pissed.”
“Watch it, you're from further south than me.”
This was an old joke between us. Being from the mountains of West Virginia I did have a twang, but my years on the coast of North Carolina had calmed it down except when I’d visit my family back home. The truth was Amanda didn’t have much of an accent even though she was originally from Raleigh - about two hours north of here. North Carolina was an interesting place; some people had a distinct southern or country accent while others also born here had a generic one you couldn’t place.
