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My eyes followed him up, and up. He was so big it was intimidating. Not that Trip was a small guy, but this man was enormous. Celeste went over and wrapped her arms around him, murmuring to him. Her head only went to his chest.
“Come on, Girly,” he barked, making me jump to my feet.
“Is he still drunk?” I whispered to Celeste as I passed her.
She just smiled and waved goodbye instead of answering me. With trepidation sinking in, I followed him outside.
“Wait. That’s not the same biker that picked you up last night,” Kat said, as she scurried out our front door to watch Dom taking off on his bike. Her curious eyes landed on me.
“He’s a friend of Trip’s.”
“And why didn’t Trip bring you home?” she asked, glaring at me as if it were somehow my fault.
“Something about business,” I mumbled, going further into our apartment. I wanted a nice long shower and some peace and quiet. That wasn’t about to happen with Kat.
“Did you sleep with him?”
I cringed and shot her a guilty look over my shoulder. She followed me into my room. We’d been best friends forever. There were no secrets between us.
“Stop that right now,” she insisted. “You’re allowed to sleep with a guy if you want to.” She cocked her head as she watched me sit on my bed. “How was it?”
I covered my face with my hands, embarrassed. “Best I’ve ever had,” I admitted through my fingers.
She crowed and came to sit on the bed beside me. “Thought so. Why the embarrassment?”
“I never sleep with guys right away.”
“Exactly. You were due for some fun. Even if that’s all it ever is, you got some orgasms and had a good time.” She paused, studying me. “Do you want more?”
“I do,” I sighed. “Is that ridiculous?”
“Not really, but you need to know some things about motorcycle clubs before you decide.”
“If he even wants to keep seeing me,” I added. Celeste had said the same thing as Kat and it made me wonder. “What does it mean when someone says they’re one percent?”
“Did Trip tell you that?”
I shook my head. “One of the uh…old ladies.”
She blew out a breath. “It means, Mar, that you need to think long and hard before you get involved with this guy.” When I opened my mouth to mention I’d already gotten ‘involved’ she cut me off. “I mean seriously involved. Long-term involved. A one percent club means they do illegal shit.”
My brows shot up, mouth dropping open. “Like what?”
“Depends on the club. Gun running. Drug dealing. Stealing. Murder. You name it and there’s a club that does it.”
My thoughts drifted back to Domino and Celeste and how he’d gazed lovingly down at her while she’d hugged him. Kat must have seen the confused look on my face.
“That doesn’t mean they're bad people,” she added. Pausing, she shrugged. “Maybe in the eyes of the law, but they tend to love their families fiercely. They’re super protective of their women and children. They do all sorts of charity for kids, that kind of stuff.”
“How do you know all this?” I asked.
“Almost dated a biker once,” she admitted.
“When?” I asked, shocked.
“In LA.”
She’d moved to LA—her father had been transferred with his job—our junior year of high school. Thank God they’d moved back for her senior year and we’d gotten to graduate together. That’d been eight years ago. At twenty-six we were more than roommates. More than friends. We were as close as sisters.
