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“Lies,” Dove called out her window. “She’s going to internally freak out about it the whole drive home and then have a mental breakdown once she’s alone.”
“Shut up!” I shouted. “Is the girl code really gone for you?” My god. Of course, I was going to freak out about Aero calling me his ol’ lady, but I was going to wait to start that freak out until I was home. I turned back to Aero and plastered a smile on my face. “I guess it’s okay to be your ol’ lady.”
He shook his head and slid his sunglasses over his eyes. “You’re a nut, Sloane.”
Yeah, but now I washisnut.
“Let’s fucking go,” Compass called. “We got a long fucking ride in front of us, and you guys chitchatting are only making it longer.”
I hopped on the back of Aero’s bike and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Is he always this cranky?” I whispered into his ear.
Aero shrugged, “Nah, not normally. Him and Yarder have been a bit off lately, but I’m sure it’s nothing.”
That seemed ominous. I shook my head. I needed to stop treating my life like it was a romance novel.
This was real life and not a novel.
“I’m sure it’s nothing.” I brushed off all my bad thoughts and took a deep breath.
“Ready to get back to reality, babe?” Aero called.
As ready as I was going to be.
I came to Motorcycles, Mobsters and Mayhem just Sloane, and now I was leaving an ol’ lady and a motorcycle club in tow.
Freaking crazy.
*
Chapter Twelve
Aero
“What the fuck are you staring at?” I demanded.
Yarder continued glaring at me and folded his arms over his chest.
We were seated around the table at the clubhouse, and everyone was looking at me. It had been almost two weeks since we got back from Lake Conroe, and things had been tense between Yarder and me. Why? I didn’t fucking know. When he told us to keep it in our pants, I figured it meant to not fuck every girl in sight. I hadn’t done that. Sloane had been the only woman my eyes saw that weekend.
“Fuck,” Smoke laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Yarder this pissed.”
Pirate raised his hand. “I have. When I was a prospect, I accidentally grabbed the bleach instead of the laundry detergent. His clothes went into the washing machine black and blue and came out pink.” Pirate cringed. “Not even a good-looking pink either. It was like dead salmon.”
“Dead salmon?” Stretch laughed. “What the fuck is that?”
“Not a pretty color, brother.” Pirate shook his head.
Yarder turned his glare to Pirate. “And that is why you are never allowed to touch the washing machine or my clothes ever again.”
Pirate held up his hands. “Fine by me, prez.”
“Wait, wait,” Fade called. “How the hell do you wash your clothes if you can’t touch the washing machine?”
“Laundromat,” Pirate shrugged. “I go once a week. A bit of a hassle, but Yarder is serious when he says I can’t touch the washing machine.”
“Never,” Yarder growled.
At least the attention was off of me now.
