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Red’s red lips slid into a smirk as if she knew I was trying to save face. I had spent three months with the woman, working nearly hip to hip as we handled kitchen duties, finances, deliveries, club arguments and placing orders. She was the only other person I had gotten close to besides Callie and Natty. So when she curled her arm around me and tugged me farther into the kitchen, I went willingly.
“Be careful out there tonight, honey. You’re not patched, which means you’re free game—the men can get a little intense if you’re not used to dealing with them. Try to stick close to Callie tonight if you can, okay?”
I nodded, appreciative of the warning. While I knew how to handle myself, I valued her concern. No one in the club knew of my background, or my parentage. I wanted it to remain that way, but I had been handling aggressive men, toxic women and overall shitty humans since I was old enough to speak. Bikers celebrating too hard wouldn’t really faze me.
The crowd began to disperse from the bar, heading out back with a chorus of hollers and buoyant yells. I untied the apron and slid it over the back of a stool before turning to grab my jacket. Stupidly, I’d worn shorts because of how warm it was in the clubhouse. I hadn’t really thought through how frigid it would be outside. At least there was a bonfire.
Right as I was about to slip out, warm fingers made contact with my lower back. A looming presence at my spine had me huddled against the wall, completely covered by a firm chest and intoxicating scent. Leather, soap, and something zesty that would make a billion dollars if it were selected as a candle scent. I closed my eyes and inhaled, while swallowing back the scream caught in my throat. Killian didn’t just grab me by the belt loop, his entire hand was clutching the waistline of my shorts.
His warm lips brushed against my ear. “Need you to wear this tonight.”
Leather was pressed under my fingers, as he pushed the item into my hand.
I looked down, seeing it was a cut. My brows furrowed.
“What—”
“Just put it on, we’re making sure Natty has something too.”
My heart was a zealous thing, waking up and winking at the warmth coming from Killian’s presence. He’d given me his?—
“It’s Kip’s.” His tone was flat, his eyes betraying him. He didn’t want me to wear Kip’s cut, but he’d given it to me regardless.
Why would he do that after what he’d done last night?
I took the leather from him, and his hand found the back of his neck. “It’s not a property patch, but he’s wearing his jacket tonight, said you could slip this on so no one bothers you. There are other clubs here tonight, just don’t want anyone getting any ideas.”
Something painful and poisonous had lodged itself inside my chest. Why did I think he’d give me his cut? Why was I so stupid when it came to this man?
I lifted my face, setting my jaw, then slipped it on in front of him, so he could watch as Kip’s name slid over my breast.
Killian’s eyes narrowed and his jaw tensed as if he were biting back a reply. I pushed past him and briskly walked outside, feeling the cool air calm the fire caught in my face and neck.
Large rocks encompassed the massive bonfire, burning in the center of the yard. Members were drinking beers, eating from paper plates, or gathered around picnic tables, while others were relaxing in lawn chairs with their boots kicked up, the fire light brightening their faces. My gaze slid over to Callie, perched on Wesley’s lap, and while I would normally make my way toward her, my feet continued forward. If Killian wanted me to wear Kip’s cut, showing I belonged to him, then I’d physically ensure it was true.
Kip was a nice guy, and he made me smile with how cute his dimples would flash when he flirted or how he tried to impress me with talks of his bike and fights. He’d been trying to take me on a date for two months straight, although I had a feeling his version of date differed from mine. Most men in the club considered a date to be a blow job or a make-out session. If a girl got really lucky, they’d be taken to the local bar. Kip didn’t seem like the type to do flowers and big acts of romance, but neither did Killian.
I hated that my mind even tried to compare the two. Not after Killian had just shoved me into Kip’s arms, wearing his cut no less. Everyone who saw me knew what this would mean, and whether it was real or not, there’d be gossip over me belonging to Kip come tomorrow morning.
I saw his blond messy hair first as I approached the circle he was in. His dimples popped as he told a story, his blue eyes wide with surprise as he laughed and nursed the beer in his hand. Kip was handsome in a rugged way; I wasn’t attracted to him, but he was objectively gorgeous. After tonight, things between us would shift, whether I wanted them to or not. It was out of my hands. Drawing closer to the small crowd, I caught his attention and slid under his arm.
“Hey.”
His blue eyes clung to me; his mouth gaped in shock.
“Shit, baby, did you just walk up here wearing my patch?”
My face burned. It wasn’t my choice, but I ducked my head as if I was shy.
His arm came around me; his palm landed on my ass with a quick squeeze.
“Well, fuck, you don’t have to tell me twice.” He tilted his head as he threw the rest of his beer back. I took the moment to peer over his shoulder.
Twin emeralds burning with hate burrowed into the man hugging me to his side.
It took all of my strength not to smirk at Killian as he focused on Kip, and the leather at my back. I had no idea why he seemed to have such a visceral reaction when this was what he’d intended all along.
Returning my focus to the fire in front of me, I sidled closer to Kip, trying my best to find comfort in this new role.
