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People may call me a lone wolf, but they know I’ll be there when they need me. They know I put the club above everything. They know I’m a solid man. They can rely on me. Can’t they?
“I should be here for Dad,” she murmurs, but a twitch in her voice tells me she’s thinking about it.
Or maybe I just think I can read her far better than I can.
“I could read you a story just like old times,” I say, smirking.
“I’m not a kid anymore,” she snaps, suddenly sassy as hell.
I hold my hands up, chuckling. I have to keep this shield up. The smirk. The casualness. The same old Kai. Nothing about how I really feel can shine through.
Not for a second.
“It could be fun,” I say, shrugging like it doesn’t matter. “And just think, you’ll have plenty of inspiration for your poetry. Are you still interested in that?”
She stands a little straighter, a note of dignity in her posture. “I won an online competition a few months ago.”
“Well done. You should be proud.”
“I don’t mean to brag.”
“I didn’t think you were bragging.”
She sighs, shaking her head and then nodding. “Oh, I don’t know. To be honest, I’d love to get away for a few days, but I don’t want to be a tagalong. You’re only asking me because Ryan asked you to, right?”
“I’m asking because—”
“No.” She steps forward, looking up at me with a mixed expression, one part confident, with several spoonfuls of shyness. She pushes past the nerves. “Tell me the truth. Please, Kai. I’ve been lied to enough today.”
She’s asking for the impossible. I can’t tell her the truth, at least not all of it.
“Ryan asked me to ask you,” I say, “but that doesn’t mean it’s inconvenient. I meant what I said. I could do with the company.”
Say yes, Kayla, or I’ll have to take you anyway.
“Are yousureyou’re sure?”
“I’m sure, I’m sure. I’m goddamn sure,” I grin. “Come on. We’ll pack a bag for you.”
She smiles shakily. “On the b-bike?”
“Since when did you develop a stutter?”
“I haven’t. I guess I’m just… It’s hot. I just learned something pretty messed up. Do you need any more reasons?”
I smirk. I can’t help it. “Since when did you get so feisty?”
“I’mnotfeisty.”
She marches over to my Harley, the beautiful, sexy liar. She definitely is feisty.
Joining her, I climb onto the bike and look over my shoulder.
“Well, are you coming or not?”
She nods and climbs onto the back of the bike. Thank God my jacket is zipped up, but I still feel her push against my back.
“Don’t you have any grips?” she murmurs.
