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“Or maybe thinking about a certain club president?” he teases, nudging me gently with his elbow.
I roll my eyes, trying to brush off his comment. “Maybe I’m thinking about how you almost spilled a big secret and then clammed up.”
Dex’s expression changes, a flicker of something like regret passing over his face. “Yeah, about that…” He hesitates, glancing around as if checking for eavesdroppers. “I wanted to tell you, but it’s complicated. Club stuff, you know?”
I nod, feeling a mix of frustration and understanding. The more time I spend here, the more I realize how many layers there are to the Angel Riders MC, layers that someone like me might never fully understand.
Changing the subject, I ask, “So, what’s the deal with Vanessa? She seemed pretty... intense.”
Dex lets out a low whistle, leaning back against a wall. “Vanessa’s bad news. She’s from the chapter down south, and let’s just say she and Jake have a history that didn’t end on a high note.”
I absorb his words, my mind racing. It’s clear that Vanessa’s appearance isn’t just a blast from the past; it’s a reminder of the club’s more complicated and possibly darker connections.
As I’m mulling over this, Jake passes by, giving me a brief nod. I watch him go, torn between wanting to chase after him and staying put.
Dex nudges me again, a softer look in his eyes. “Emma, whatever’s going on in your head, just remember, we’re all more than our pasts, you know?”
His words strike a chord, and I find myself smiling genuinely for the first time today. “Thanks, Dex. I needed that.”
The rest of the day is a whirlwind of activity, with preparations for the upcoming charity event taking center stage. But beneath the bustle, my mind is a tumultuous sea, thoughts of Jake, Vanessa, and Dex crashing against each other.
As evening approaches, I find myself alone with my thoughts, as the clubhouse quieting down. The conflicting emotions of the day weigh heavily on me, a confusing mix of jealousy, curiosity, and an undeniable attraction to not just one, but two, maybe even three very different men.
As I walk back to my room, I can’t help but feel like I’m walking a tightrope, balancing my growing feelings for Jake and Dex, while trying to navigate the choppy waters of club politics and Vanessa’s unsettling presence.
I close my door behind me, the room’s silence a stark contrast to the day’s chaos.
* * *
The next day is a whirlwind.I'm bouncing around the clubhouse, notebook in hand, trying to catch every detail, every story that might be important and add color to this piece I’m writing. But it's more than just an article now; it's about the people, their lives. It’s personal.
In between interviews, I find myself continuously stealing glances at Jake. He's busy with club stuff, but every now and then, our eyes meet, and there's this electric zing that races straight to my toes. It's like we're having a whole conversation without words.
And then there's Dex. He's always around, making me laugh, showing me the ropes. He's like this breath of fresh air whenever things get too intense. His playfulness is infectious, and I find myself looking forward to our little chats more than I probably should.
Late afternoon, Dex finds me scribbling away in a corner. "Hey, Emma, taking a break from playing detective?"
I look up, a smile tugging at my lips. "Something like that. Just piecing together the story."
Dex leans against the wall, his arms folded. "You know, you're pretty amazing at this. Digging deep, finding the heart of the story."
I blush, his compliment catching me off guard. "Thanks, Dex. Just doing my job."
He grins, that boyish charm of his in full swing. "Well, you do it well. And speaking of jobs, Jake asked me to give you a message. He wants you to meet him in the garage in ten."
My heart does a little flip. Jake wants to see me? Alone? "Uh, okay. Thanks for the heads-up."
Dex winks and saunters off, leaving me with a fluttering in my stomach and a million thoughts racing through my head.
I make my way to the garage, my heart pounding with each step. What does Jake want to talk about? Is it about us? Or club business?
The garage is dimly lit, the smell of oil and metal filling the air. Jake is there, leaning against a bike, looking like some sort of rugged, denim-clad dream. The sight of him sends a wave of warmth through me.
"Hey," I say, trying to sound casual.
Jake looks up, and the intensity in his eyes makes my breath hitch. "Emma, I needed to talk to you, away from the crowd."
I nod, waiting for him to continue. The air between us is charged, and every sound in the garage is amplified.
