Page 26

“Just a little more, come on, Athena. You can do this. It’s not complicated. Slide down, then run.”
I have to bite my bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud at her little self-pep talk. Also, I’m concentrating on being her safety net.
“Just a little more—” Just then, Athena’s words die on her delectable pink lips as she turns her head to assess her height and her eyes land on… me. “Oh my gods!”
“‘Sup, Baby Girl? Need a hand?”
On the outside, I’m hoping I look calm and collected, like this is just another Tuesday evening in the dead of winter and some chick is trying to sneak away because… I don’t fucking know. As far as I’m concerned, the women here try to sneak in more than they try to leave, so this is completely new territory for me.
With a huff from her lips that makes her hair fly up and away from her face, Athena sighs and I feel the win coming on. Fucking finally.
“Yes, please.” This time I get a good look at her and notice her clothes are way too light to be hanging—quite fucking literally—outside in the middle of December.
“You need a coat, Baby Girl, this shit ain’t gonna cut it.”
“Well, I hadn’t thought it through that far.” No, no she did not. But that’s fine. I’m here now, and whether she likes it or not, I’m about to take over.
“Is that why you’re using the bathroom window instead of the front door?” I mean, it would have saved her the embarrassment of… this.
“I tried but your friends were blocking the entrance.” I’m not sure if the pink hue on her cheeks is from the cold or her admittance.
“I’m guessin’ you’re wantin’ to go home, then? Take this, I’ll go grab you a coat from inside.” My skittish little kitten tries, in vain, to fight me on this, but she’s about to get a whole lotta hard-headed biker boy push back and there isn’t much she can do about it. After shrugging my cut off and draping it over the nearest bike, I pull off my hoodie, my T-shirt riding up and exposing my torso to the cold winter night. Just as I’m free from my sweatshirt, I catch her staring at me and I ain’t gonna lie, her heated gaze on my body makes everything in me pulse with want and need and everything in between.
“No, it’s fine, it’s not that far.” I raise a brow at her excuse and have to practically bite my tongue to stay quiet. When I hold out my hoodie for her to put on over her raggedy green one, I’m met with resistance, so instead of playing the nice guy, I play the guy who’s worried about her getting sick. Like a sack of potatoes, I shove my sweatshirt over her head and can’t help but chuckle when I notice it’s more of a dress than a shirt, swallowing her right up. Hell, the damn thing is down to below her knees. It’s fucking adorable and I have a feeling I’ll be thinking about this for a very long fucking time.
“Don’t move.” I’m about to point my finger at her but think twice about it, raising my hand then placing my index finger under her chin. “Don’t move, Baby Girl,” I repeat, my tone a bit more on the gentle side. “Because one of my steps is about four of yours so I won’t even break a sweat catching up to you.”
My first instinct is to bring her inside with me but I’m afraid she’ll be embarrassed having gone one way and coming back another. Those knuckleheads don’t need any fuel to light a rumor mill fire. Ain’t no better way to spread misinformation than to have Grinder and Boner sniff out a good story. Thankfully, those two are at their place, playing hosts to Boner’s mama.
“Okay.” Scanning her features, I try to read her answer, hoping to find the truth in her one word. It’s hard to tell and I’m pretty sure it has a lot to do with her having to keep everything, every emotion, behind a protective armor. Doesn’t take a genius to understand that the less you say, the higher your chances of surviving great trauma. The talking comes later when it’s time for healing.
I want to be the one to heal her. Or at least be the one she comes to when she needs to feel safe.
With a nod and a wink, I take two steps back, my eyes still trained on Athena, before I turn back and head inside to get myself another sweatshirt.
“That was quick!”
“What happened to your stamina?
“You owe me twenty bucks.”
The completely inappropriate comments are thrown at me from all directions in the clubhouse and I don’t even pretend to acknowledge them, just focus on my path to my room. I’m in and out in less than five minutes and, of course, when I walk back through, the shit stirring starts all over again.
“Welp! Going back for seconds.”
“Must be grade-A pus—” Oh, I hear that comment. In fact, I stop, then slowly turn. My eyes search out the motherfucker who decided talking about Athena was a good idea, and without even considering the consequences, my body faces Diablo and a warning snarl has the entire room fall to a hush.
“The fuck you just say, Diablo?” I take one step, then two. It’s so slow, like I’m giving him the time to backpedal and apologize. Even then, I’m not so sure I’ll accept.
“Aw, c’mon, Bear. It’s shit talking, we all do it.”
“I don’t.”
“Yeah well, you’re the fucking saint around here, aren’t ya?” He chuckles but no one else chimes in and his pseudo joke falls flat at his booted feet.
“Bear, man, come on, brother. Take a breather.” Psycho is behind me trying to be the voice of reason because he knows that if I throw a punch this punk will be laid out for days.
“I will as soon as he apologizes.”