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“Sure is.” I fidget with the edge of the fairing.
“I wanted to do what I did last night,” he assures, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of my hair behind one ear. “And I’ll do it again if you ask me. But this can’t be an actual thing between us.” His gaze drops to my mouth. “I’m sorry if I made you think that.”
“I never thought it was.” I jerk my head away, freeing myself from his condescending touch. “I’m sorry if I made you think I did.”
“Rae.”
“No. I get it, Digger.” He flinches at the use of his road name. “It was you feeling sorry for me in my moment of weakness.” I lift the fairing, intending to make a quick exit before the burn at the back of my eyes becomes more.
He rips the plastic from my hands and throws it to the ground. “Listen to me.” Digger sets his palms on either side of my face, stooping to level our gazes. “I said Iwantedto do it. I want you.” He winces, closing his eyes briefly as though he didn’t intend to say so much. “But a club is a complex thing, Rae.” He straightens, sliding his hands away to move one to my hip and pull us flush. “Pretending you’re my girl to keep you safe is one thing, but us actually bein’ an item? You’re the center of a lot of worlds.” He grips my chin lightly, almost reverently. “I throw you off your axis, and I fucking ruin the whole goddamn system.”
“You’re worried you’ll upset me?” I frown a little, not sure where he’s going with this—he wants me, he doesn’t. I don’t get it.
“I’m worried that I’ll upset a lot of peoplebecauseof you.”
“Like Maddie,” I say.
“And Tyke.” He shrugs. “Any of the members, really.”
I take a step back, putting space between us. “Then we’ll call last night a one-time thing, Digger.” I slap my hands together. “Problem solved. Our ‘relationship,’” I mock, using air quotes, “is just what we do outside these gates. After we’re done here, doing this,” I say, gesturing at the scrap pile, “I’ll stay out of your way. Make it real easy on you. Why complicate things, right?”
“Fine. Be a bitch about it.” He lifts the fairing, thrusting it at me. “But you walked out that fucking diner door, and I forgot how to breathe, Rae.” He shunts the part into my hands and lets go. “That’swhy I want to complicate things.”
He strides back to the racking, shunting parts along the shelves and selecting an unfortunate item to hurl into the pile with a crash.
I make a quick exit, ditching the shit in my arms and taking a few moments to let the misty rain cool my flesh.He wants me?How can he know? How can I know? We’re caught up in the heat of the moment, surely.
Last night was a mistake. A huge fucking mistake.
One that has me avoiding my best friend like the plague while I come to terms with the shame roiling a storm through me.
I glance toward the clubhouse and find the huge door open. The young guy I spoke with at breakfast, Merrick, sweeps debris into the yard with a wide broom. Everyone has a job here. That much was true. And my job is to lay low. To do what I’m told and stay out of the fucking way while they navigate the problem that is my ex, Connor.
I’m a walking fucking disaster.
My parents were right to be disappointed in me: I make trouble wherever I go because I can’t damn well think before I act.
I’m impulsive, emotional, and a fucking liability.
I don’t belong here.
My gaze slides toward the long gate, toward the promise of freedom on the other side. The itch builds in my feet, the urge to flee a vice in my chest as I calculate how much of my shit I’d need to take and how far I can get on what’s left of last week’s wages.
Not that it matters. It wouldn’t be far enough to fall off Terry’s radar.
Digger doesn't mention how long I spent out in the rain when I return for more parts. He doesn’t so much as acknowledge me when I make two more runs into the yard. A pen sits tucked behind his ear as he runs his finger across a sheet of paper pinned to a wooden clipboard. I hesitate, watching while he taps a line on his page and then looks around, twisting his head this way and that before flattening his lips with a disgruntled sigh.
He was right to call me a bitch. They’ve done nothing but help me here when none of this shit is their responsibility. The club owes me nothing. He owes me nothing.
He’s right to draw a line in the goddamn sand.
Fuck me.I resist the urge to sneak up behind Digger and slip my arms around his waist. To apologize. The desire to do so fucking confusing enough. What is it about this guy? Why do I feel like letting him slip through my fingers would be the biggest regret of my life?
"This where they hiding you today, huh?"
I spin around, ankle collecting a bit of metal that sticks out of the pile. "Ow." I hiss a little and bend to rub the sore spot, checking my fingertips for blood.
Digger turns at my pained cry. "What'd you do?"
