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“For your information, my door was locked all night. I only recently unlocked it since you said you were stopping by this morning.”
Blade nods, which is about as much approval as I can hope from him at this point. “And throwing the pillow?”
“I’m enjoying that I don’t have to make my bed anymore,” I tell him.
The man stares at me, tilting his head to the side. He looks at me like that a lot, and I wonder if I’m as interesting to him as he is to me.
“Thrilling,” he says flatly.
I grin and hop off the bed, sliding into my pink ballerina flats. They match my light pink sundress, which my mom told me was “inappropriate for my body type.” That was her sanitized way of telling me I was fat and no one wanted to see all that skin.
But today is a new day, and I no longer have to listen to that crap. She doesn’t define me, nor does my father or the men my parents tried to match me up with.
“I agree. It’s not as freeing as riding on a motorcycle, but it’s a little piece of freedom for me, you know?”
Blade furrows his brow, his eyes darkening slightly as he stares a hole right through my brain. I’m unsure what he’s thinking, but his ever-serious, stoic eyes soften slightly.
“Good,” he declares. “Never make the bed again. Fuck sheets and pillows.”
I giggle at his over-the-top reaction, and Blade freezes. The laughter dies on my lips, and I worry I’ve offended him. “Is everything okay?”
He grunts because of course he does. “Your laugh… I like it.”
I’m unsure who’s more shocked at his words, but I’m the first to recover.
“Thanks,” I whisper. “I’m sure I’ll like yours, too.”
Blade grunts again, and I narrow my eyes at him playfully. He eyes me right back, but I see the barest inkling of a smirk on his lips. Everything about this man is hard and prickly, but I’m determined to find a soft spot. After all, he can’t be all bad. He helped me on the side of the road and offered me a place to stay.
“Let’s go check on your car,” he says, quickly changing the subject. Blade spins on his heel, already halfway down the hall by the time I get to the door.
“Hey! Short person over here!” I call after him.
Blade stops in his tracks and stands stock still as I jog up beside him. Without a word, he takes a smaller step forward, watching me and matching my steps.
“Much better,” I tell him with a smile.
Blade hums, the sound low and gravelly and not unlike his grunt. There’s a slight difference, though, and I probably shouldn’t know that.
We walk in silence across the street from the clubhouse and down a few blocks until we get to the Savage Saints Repair Shop. Power tools, clanking metal, and engines revving fill the air, followed quickly by the smell of rubber and gasoline.
“Oh wow,” I say softly as we walk past huge open garage doors, each containing projects in varying stages of completion. Up until earlier this week, I had never driven a car. Now I’m watching people take them apart.
“Never been to the mechanic?” Blade asks, breaking the silence between us.
“I haven’t been to a lot of places,” I answer truthfully.
Blade peers down at me, that same concerned, slightly confused look in his eyes as earlier.
Thankfully, we’re interrupted before Blade can ask any more questions. It’s not that I want to hide anything from him, but I don’t want to burden him with my sob story. Besides, it’s irrelevant to my car, so I’m sure he doesn’t care.
“Yo, Prez! I have you over here,” someone says, pulling our attention in that direction.
“Thanks, Axel,” Blade replies as he heads to the last stall in the garage.
“Prez?” I ask as I scurry to keep up with the tall men and their long strides.
As if remembering I’m short, Blade stops and waits for me to catch up, then matches my steps.“That’s my title,” comes his simple and inadequate response.
