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“Why is everything up for discussion? It’s your life. It was your relationship. It was your choice. Furthermore, you’re an adult.”
I looked at him. “You don’t discuss anything with anyone? You keep your own council all the time?”
“When it comes to personal shit? Yeah, pretty much. Club stuff is a different story.”
“And not one of your biker brothers would dare weigh in on any of your personal life decisions?”
“Let me ask you something,” he said. “And I’m not trying to be a dick here. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“When you got with Knox, what did your parents say when they met him?”
“They were polite.”
“Your brothers met him at some point?”
“Christmas that first year. They were…” I thought back to the holiday. “They teased him. But not in the way they tease me. They tease me because they love me and I’m their sister. They teased him differently. It’s hard to explain.”
“It’s not hard to explain—I get it. They teased him because they were making fun of him. They didn’t like him.”
“No, they definitely didn’t like him. And neither did my dad.”
“Sounds like an uncomfortable holiday.”
“It was. What were we talking about again?”
“Your family, and how they discuss your life. Okay, so clearly they didn’t like him from the beginning. Did that affect your decision to be with him?”
“What do you mean?”
“Come on. You know what I mean. You stayed with him even though you knew how your entire family felt about him. You stayed with him because you felt like you had something to prove. That you could make your own choices. Choose your own career. Follow your own path. Pick your future husband.”
“You make it sound like a rebellion.”
“Wasn’t it?” he prodded.
“I’m the baby of the family. And the only girl. They’re naturally overprotective. They didn’t like that I chose to go to the University of Las Vegas instead of staying close by.”
“Why did you?”
“Because I was never going to be able to figure out who I was if I stayed around them.” I sighed. “I’m not painting them in the best light, am I?”
“I think you’re painting a picture of a family who loves you and wants what’s best for you—even if you have different ideas on what that is.”
“How do you do it?” I asked softly.
“Do what?”
“Get it. You just get it, Smoke.”
He flipped on the turn signal and slowly changed lanes. He glanced at me. “Maybe I just get you.”
Chapter 17
By the next hour, my phone was blowing up. Calls and texts blasted my cell.
“What the hell is going on?” Smoke asked.
