Page 9 of Egg Me On (Front Range Motorcycle Collective #1)

But Aiden, after a moment's hesitation, moved toward the other end of the table. Toward Silas and Marcus, sliding into the empty seat with a casual, "Hey, guys," like he hadn't just put a knife between my ribs.

My jaw clenched so hard I thought my teeth might crack.

Of course he didn't want to sit next to me.

I'd spent the past week alternating between grunting at him and pretending he didn't exist. Why would he choose to sit beside the surly asshole when he could bask in Marcus's charismatic glow and Silas's steady attention?

“Maybe he would have sat next to you if you hadn’t been glaring at him like you wanted to murder him,” Liv whispered, elbowing me.

She probably had a point. But I didn’t want to murder him at all. I wanted to bend him over the table and fuck him until he was a quivering mess of need beneath me.

Marcus clapped Aiden on the shoulder, leaning in to say something that made Aiden laugh—that full-bodied laugh that made his eyes crinkle at the corners and his head tilt back, exposing the long line of his throat.

I watched the movement, transfixed by the bob of his Adam's apple, the flash of white teeth.

He had a tiny mole just below his left ear that most people wouldn't notice.

I'd noticed. Had cataloged every fucking detail about him like some obsessive stalker.

"Alright, let's get started," Silas called, bringing the room to attention. I forced myself to look away from Aiden, staring instead at the scarred tabletop, tracing a deep groove with my thumbnail.

Marcus launched into a rundown of upcoming events.

I barely registered the words, too aware of Aiden across the table, the way he leaned forward with genuine interest, occasionally asking questions that showed he was actually paying attention to the business side of things.

He cared about more than his shop. He cared about us.

"And that brings us to the big one," Marcus said, his excitement palpable.

"The annual FRMC campout is next weekend.

Three days in the mountains, great riding, great company.

Last year was epic, but this year's gonna be even better.

I need all hands on deck, full staff is required to attend unless you have a very good excuse. That includes you, Cash."

Murmurs of agreement echoed around the table. I'd skipped last year's campout, claiming a deadline on a custom build. Truth was, I didn't do group activities if I could avoid them. Too many people, too much forced socialization.

"So, Aiden," Marcus continued, turning to him with that megawatt smile. "Here comes the real reason I invited you to this meeting. I’m hoping you’d be willing to cook for us at the campout. We usually pay a caterer, so why not the chef in our own backyard?”

“Me? Really?” Aiden looked startled, but pleased.

“It’s nothing fancy, just your breakfast magic for a bunch of hungry bikers, and something for lunch and dinner that’ll feed a crowd. Brats and chili, that sort of thing."

I watched Aiden as Marcus went over the budget, saw the way his face lit up like someone had flipped a switch, all eager enthusiasm and genuine pleasure at being included. My chest tightened at the sight.

Why was he so damn cute? And why the fuck did it make me want to cuddle him… while also fucking him. Cuddlefuck him?

"That sounds like fun! I'd love to," he was saying, already nodding. Even from across the room, I could see the wheels turning in his head, and was willing to bet he was planning meals already. "I've got these Dutch oven recipes I've been wanting to try, and I make a mean campfire hash—"

"Yum, I love a good hash," Marcus interrupted, looking like he might ask Aiden to go cook him one right there. "Seriously, you're saving us. Last year, the guy Silas hired burned everything."

A groan went around the table, and everyone started talking at once, sharing stories of how bad the food had been.

"You can ride with me in the sidecar if you want," Dylan offered, leaning forward with a grin that was too fucking friendly. Almost flirty. "And we can fit all your cooking gear. I'll even let you wear my spare helmet."

I watched Aiden's face brighten at the offer, watched his lips part to accept, and something inside me snapped like an overworked chain. The possessiveness that had been building all week surged through me, hot and urgent and completely beyond my control.

My chair scraped loudly against the floor as I stood abruptly. All eyes turned to me, but I only saw Aiden's, wide with surprise.

"No," I growled, the word emerging rougher than I'd intended. "Aiden rides with me."

The room fell silent. I could feel Silas and Marcus exchanging looks, could sense Dylan's surprise and Liv's poorly concealed amusement.

But all I cared about was Aiden's reaction—the way his cheeks flushed pink, the slight parting of his lips, the quickening of his breath that only I seemed to notice.

“So Cash is coming, great!” Marcus said, drawing a laugh from the group.

Without another word, I stalked out of the room, my heart hammering against my ribs like it was trying to escape. I needed air. Needed to get the fuck away from the intensity of whatever this was before I did something I couldn't take back.

Footsteps hurried after me. "Cash, wait," Aiden called, catching up to me in the hallway.

I stopped but didn't turn, my hands clenched at my sides, every muscle in my body tense with the effort of not grabbing him.

His hand landed on my shoulder, light but unmistakable, sending heat spiraling through me from that single point of contact. I finally turned, meeting his eyes.

"You're the only one I'd ride with, okay? The only one I trust," he said quietly, his gaze steady on mine. "You don't have to be angry.”

My voice caught in my throat, words that wanted to get out slamming up against each other, forming a dam that seemed impenetrable.

He kept talking. “Did you want me to sit next to you? You looked a bit irritated, that’s all, so I was trying to give you space. But I definitely would have sat next to you if I’d known it would hurt your feelings."

Fuck. Had my feelings been hurt? That sounded so…

“I’m so excited to go on a longer ride with you. Is it a rush? Riding through the mountains?”

The sincerity in his voice, the open trust in his expression—it was too much. I wanted to slam him against the wall and kiss him until he never looked at another man again. Wanted to mark him as mine in ways I'd never felt compelled to do with anyone before. The intensity of it terrified me.

Before he could wreck me even more with his adorable excitement, I gave him a curt nod, then turned and stalked toward the garage, needing the familiar sanctuary of engines and tools, things I understood, things I could control.

Dylan was already there when I entered, looking up from the carburetor he was cleaning with that knowing smirk that made me want to break something.

"Fuck off," I growled, heading for my bay. Oh, great. So now my voice worked again. Kind of.

"I didn't say anything," he replied, the smirk growing wider.

"And leave Aiden alone," I added, knowing my tone was too harsh, too revealing, but unable to stop myself.

Dylan raised his eyebrows, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Relax, man. I'm not after your crush. Just offering the guy a ride."

"He's not my—" I started, then stopped, the denial dying on my lips. Because what was the point? Dylan had seen right through me, just like Silas. Just like probably everyone except Aiden himself. "Just back off," I finished weakly.

"Whatever you say, boss." Dylan held up his hands in mock surrender. "But for what it's worth? I know he’s yours. I see the way you look at him, and he looks at you the same way. Well, the same way, but a lot less cranky. It’s kind of cute, how he’s all cheerful and chipper and just rolls with your grumpy scowls. "

I turned away, unwilling to let him see the hope that flared in my chest at his words. Because even if it was true—even if Aiden did want me—I had no fucking idea what to do about it.