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“I didn’t say that.” The admission is breathed between us, words barely brought to life. “I’m just… The club’s complex, right? I don’t want to become a problem.”
“You’re a problem if you don’t tell me the truth, Rae.” I pull my hand away, setting it in my lap. “You got an issue with me?”
“Of course not,” she struggles to say. “You’ve been really good to me about all of this.”
“I mean, have you got an issue with me as aman, Rae? Not as the pres.” My heart beats heavy in my chest. I’ve never waited so nervously for a goddamn answer like I do now.
She’s my fucking daughter’s best friend. I’m the worst kind of devil there is.
“You’re Maddie’s father.”
And there it is—the confirmation she gets it too, why we could never. “Shit,” I mock. “Am I?”
Her brow dives. “You know what I mean.”
“If I wasn’t, though.” I fold my arms high on my chest and stare at the floor between my feet. “If you didn’t know her, and we met under different circumstances, could you see it?” I meet her curious gaze. “You and me?”
Her silence speaks volumes.
I clear my throat, fighting the need to look at her and reminding myself it’ll hurt less if I don’t. “You’ll be off your feet a while. Want somethin’ to do to keep that overthinkin’ mind of yours busy?”
“I guess.” She’s stiff as a board. Uncomfortable. And I made her that way.There’s your answer, you old fool.
I jerk from the seat and cross over to my desk, retrieving the ratty laptop. Club finances are good enough that I could get a new one. I'm sure Rigs would justify the expense and sign it off without hesitation. But some habits are hard to shake, and lessons drilled in from childhood are even harder.
Why fix it if it ain't broken?
The fucking hard-headed mindset that ultimately ended my old man.
I should know better.
“You any good with computers?” I log in and set it down on her lap, eager to steer the conversation away from my impulsive fuck up.
She lifts a hand to hide her mouth, yet her wide eyes say it all. "Oh my God."
"I don't have patience for this kind of shit," I explain. Not that I understand why. She doesn't need to know that about me. Doesn't matter a shit why my computer looks the way it does, just that it needs desperate assistance if it wants to see out another year. "Most of the files are pretty straightforward on what they are. I just need them sorted and organized best you can. If you need help with any, holler. I don't need you openin’ them."
"Sure." Her face falls, mouth turned down at the corners.Words she can’t say sit balanced on her tongue.
"You think you're walkin' yourself into the same shit as you did with Connor.” Fuck knows it'd cross my mind if I was her. Another outlaw asking me to tiptoe around shit that could have me incarcerated for years at a time.
"Sort of." Rae sighs, shoulders dropping. She sets her fingertips on the edge of the laptop, fidgeting with the little knicks in the case. "Shouldn’t you ask Maddie to do this? Someone you trust with this level of knowledge?"
"Can I not trust you?" I lift an eyebrow. “Thought you just said I could.”
She pales under my scrutiny, arms crossing gently over her chest. "It just seems I'm the last person you should ask if you've got things on there you don't want people seeing."
I’ve made things awkward between us. This tension’s on me.
“Ignorance makes you more reliable.” I tap the top edge of the computer screen. "Get started. Takin’ the weight off your leg will do it some good."
Suspicion worries a line between her brows. "If you're sure."
Oh, I am.I spin around and retrieve anything she may need: a notepad, pens, the charger for the laptop, which I plug in. "I need to duck out, but I'll come back and check how you're gettin' on."
I need to get to where I can breathe without taking in more of her scent, without a reminder of why I currently flail around like a love-struck fool, not the hard-headed president of an outlaw club.
"Okay." Rae frowns at the screen. "Thanks."
