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He’s the one my heart is choosing after all these years? After years and years of telling Ian to stay away from bikers because they’re nuts and scary, I choose to fall for the nuttiest and scariest of them all?
Am I crazy?
I rub my forehead as I lean against the wall. This isn’t happening—I’m refusing to let it. I’m not starting to develop feelings for him. I can’t be. He’s obnoxious and arrogant. He wouldn’t know modesty if it hit him with a fucking truck. He’s not my type at all. He makes me want to rage.
But…
But he’s also so fucking hot it’s unreal. And that crazy streak in him, the one I know runs deep and I haven’t even touched the surface on? Yeah, that’s the part calling to me. That’s the part I’m falling for.
He’s protective and overbearing. But he’s possessive. I can’t handle that. I’m independent. I can deal with protective, but not possessive. I need space. And him deciding my home is his is the opposite of space.
But I can’t see myself waking up without seeing him on that stupid fucking couch.
He’s been here two nights–that’s it, two fucking nights, and already he’s engrained himself into my fucking home. Into my life.
“Fuck,” I mutter as I close my eyes. Resting my head against the wall, I breathe deeply. I can’t be falling for him. He’s no good for Ian or me. He’ll be a terrible influence on Ian…or he might not be.
He’s a good man. He’s honorable…when he’s not being a fucking basket case.
I stare at the door, anxiously waiting to see if he’s going to come to me. But when a few minutes pass and he never knocks, I let out a breath and climb back into bed, deciding to sleep for a few more hours. Maybe I’m just sleep deprived.
That has to be it. Because there is absolutelynofucking way I’m falling for Ezra fucking King.
Kiwi
“Hey, Prez,” I say as I stroll into the Chapel. Bash leans back in his chair, locking his fingers behind his head as he levels me with a look. He looks worn the fuck out. “You should ask Addie for a blowjob or something. You need to relax.”
“Kiwi,” he sighs as he closes his eyes. “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that because I’m too fuckin’ tired to get up and beat your ass right now.”
I laugh as I slide into Axel’s chair beside Bash. Rolling the chair away from the table, I kick my booted feet onto it and slump further into the chair as I fold my arms over my chest, grinning at him.
“You requested to see me?” I ask, and he lets out another long breath. “Really, man, you okay?” He shifts his eyes to me, looking shocked.
“What?”
“I asked if you’re okay.”
“No, I heard you,” he says as he leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Are you sick? How much time do you have?”
“Fuck off,” I laugh. “Can’t I want my Prez to not keel over before you turn twenty-eight?” He rubs his forehead, sighing loudly before looking at me again.
“Right,” he says. “There’s a lot going on.”
“Yep,” I agree. “That’s why I’m here. I’m your peasant. Put me to work.” The word slips out before I can stop it and my stomach twists. Peasant. What Kennedy had called me.
I’m happily her peasant, or at least I was before I realized she was just another woman looking to be an Old Lady.
The thought doesn’t sit right with me. She just doesn’t seem like the type. She doesn’t seem like she wants to get with any of the guys, but she’s not stopping anyone from groping her, either.
It makes me fucking furious to think about, and I’m trying to force my crazy back but Bash sees through it. He always has.
“What’s going on?” He narrows his eyes, scanning my face.
“Nothing,” I say, and he lifts his brows. I scrub my hand over my face as I rest my head back against the chair. Staring at the ceiling, I let out a long breath. “I think Kennedy is The Berserkers club slut.”
He’s silent for a moment, then he clears his throat. “Why?” I shrug, not trusting myself to speak. “Kiwi.” I roll my eyes at his warning-filled tone.
“I know, Prez,” I say. “I’m not gonna kill anyone.” I look down at him and smirk before adding, “Yet.”
