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Cassidy chews thoughtfully, not quite convinced. “She was pretty snarky to me. You two...you’re done, right?”
I chuckle, setting my burger down. “Layla’s like a fucking fly on the fourth of July–annoying but harmless.”
Her eyes search mine, looking for something more. “I just want to be sure. I don’t do well with... leftovers.”
I reach across the table, covering her hand with mine. “Cassidy, you’re not a leftover. You’re the main course, the prime cut. Layla was just a convenience.”
“Ouch,” she says, wincing at my brutal honesty.
I shrug to avoid her disapproving gaze. “It’s the truth. She’s nothing more than a club whore.” My stomach turns at the thought of Layla’s hands on me.
“An itch to scratch?”
I nod. “You pissed?”
“Not as long as I don’t have to throat punch her,” she adds with a smile, ordering a soda-to-go from thewaitress. “I don’t, do I?”
“Nah. Ace sent her to work at one of the other MC businesses, so she won’t be a problem anymore.”
Relief washes over Cassidy’s face, and she squeezes my hand in return. “Good,” she says softly. “Because I won’t be anyone’s second choice.”
“Cassidy, you will never be my second choice.”
“Good. I’m happy you say that. So next question.”
“Anything you want to know,” I tell her honestly.
“Did you become a biker because you wanted to tinker with engines or because you wanted to whoop ass?”
That’s an easy answer, and I flash her a flirtatious smile, leaning across the table. “Yes.”
“So, you’re a bad boy down to your core?”
“Does that turn you on, Cass, bad boys?”
Cassidy lets out a little laugh and says, “You turn me on. Bad boy.”
In that moment, I know, without a fucking doubt in my mind, that I love this girl. I can’t tell her now, of course. It’s too soon. But I will.
Soon.
“Hey, where’d you go?” She waves both hands in front of my face.
I blink and flash another smile. “I was just thinking how much I like being with you. Even when I’m not fucking you.”
Her smile goes so fucking wide it illuminates the inside of the restaurant. “That is, without a doubt, the weirdest and sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“Thanks?”
Her laughter sounds again, drawing a few stares, but she’s oblivious because her gaze is on me. “You’re welcome. And thank you, again, for saving me.” She lifts her soda into the air. “To white knights on motorcycles.”
“And the beautiful damsel in the eighteen-wheeler.”
“And the ooey-gooey-on-the-inside bad boy who saved her.”
I tap my soda glass to her paper cup. “Cheers, baby! I love the way you think.”
It’s not the only thing I love, but any more and it might scare her away.
