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“Are you just gonna stand there?” Jack asked.
Zero blinked, his pulse picking up. “What do you want me to do?”
Jack’s brows lowered as he scowled at him and said, “Leave.”
He swallowed hard and turned on his heels, taking off down the hall.
Why was he being this stupid? Why was Jack making him this fucking nervous? The man was hot, yes. He was growly and rugged and definitely not someone he should fuck. That shouldn’t make him a fucking idiot around him. That should’ve made him want to steer clear of him. So why the hell couldn’t he stay away?
He stepped into the kitchen and hurried toward the coffee machine. He was going to need a whole lot of caffeine if he was to stand a chance at getting through this day.
Jack
After getting dressed, he stared at the cut for the longest time before forcing himself to put it on. Knowing that it said prospect on it had him grinding his teeth.
He should’ve loved the way it felt on his shoulders, should’ve loved that smell of leather, but it was drowned out by another smell. One he’d breathed in just yesterday when he’d pushed Zero up against that wall.
He was going to be smelling Zero on him the whole time he wore the cut. As if wearing a prospect cut wasn’t punishment enough.
He walked out of his room and down the hall to the kitchen where he found Zero leaning back against the counter with a steaming mug in his hands. He looked up when he heard Jack, his eyes widening ever so slightly before his gaze dropped to Jack’s chest, looking at the damned cut, he supposed.
He froze when Zero licked his lips. That… should not have gotten to him. Fuck.
“I made coffee,” Zero said, tilting his head toward another mug on the counter.
Jack grunted and grabbed it, taking a sip. He moaned, his eyes slipping shut at the incredible taste. He couldn’t remember the last time he had coffee this good.
He drank half of his coffee before he lowered the mug and opened his eyes. He found Zero staring at him, his cheeks a bit red and his eyes unfocused.
“You good?”
Zero blinked rapidly for a second, then shook his head.
“Uh.” Zero cleared his throat. “I’m fine.”
Even if he didn’t quite believe him, he was fine with pretending. He’d gotten good at that.
He didn’t have long until he needed to be at the club to discuss his new ‘duties’ with King, so he finished off his coffee and put the mug in the dishwasher, watching Zero out of the corner of his eye the whole time.
Something was off with him. He just couldn’t put his finger on what.
He turned to walk away, Zero’s voice stopping him.
“I’ll see you at the club,” Zero said, then pressed his lips together and avoided Jack’s gaze.
He didn’t answer, just sent Zero a glare before taking off down the hall. He couldn’t even enjoy the ride to the club, the cut feeling heavy on his shoulders, and as he pulled up in front of the gate to the clubhouse, he felt a flutter in his stomach. Nerves, perhaps. Something he’d never felt around the club before. The club had always made him feel safe. Seen. Loved.
Now, though? It was all wrong.
It felt… foreign.
Knowing that he’d have to walk on eggshells, that he’d be watched and assessed every fucking second of the day made him feel like a kid. No. A… criminal.
He pulled his helmet off with a sigh. He squeezed his eyes closed for a second, then got off the bike.
He stepped through the door to the clubhouse and nearly had a heart attack.
There was shouting, banners, and balloons. Was this hell? It looked like it.
