Page 12 of Just Heartbeats (Royalla Motorcycle Club #1)

Roma sat in the battered swivel chair, one foot propped on the edge of the desk, rubbing the tatted skin around her wrist where the chain of daisies rested.

The petals curled gently against her pulse points, delicate and beautiful.

Hunter had done the artwork for her a few months after her dad died—right after the numbness burned off and anger took its place.

Her dad had always told her not to get tattoos.

“You're too beautiful. Don't cover it up,” he’d said, even as he sat shirtless and full of inked stories from his past. That contradiction gnawed at her.

After he was killed, Roma went to Hunter with a daisy sketch and enough anger bottled up inside of her to go against her father's wishes. Looking back, the tattoos hadn’t been about honoring anything or a remembrance or a story from her past. She was mad at the world, but mostly her dad.

Mad at him for dying. Mad at him for leaving her when she still needed him.

A soft thud caught her attention. She looked up.

Kodiak stood in the doorway, towering and quiet. His beard was damp from the mist outside, and in one hand he held a clear plastic cup—cold brew, light caramel swirl, oat milk foam kissed with cinnamon. Her favorite drink from that little place two blocks over with the crooked sign.

He walked in without saying a word and placed the drink on the desk beside her elbow. His hand lingered a half-second too long on the condensation. When he met her eyes, the look he gave her was charged, making the hair on her arms stand up.

Roma stared at the cup, then at him. Her heart ticked faster, but her voice stayed caught in her throat. Kodiak didn’t speak. Didn’t need to.

That look said plenty.

Roma wasn’t naive—not exactly. She knew tension when she felt it, that magnetic buzz that seemed to tighten the air when Kodiak was near.

It had been a constant presence in their interactions for months now.

The looks. The touches. The coffee orders.

The way his shoulder always leaned toward her, even in crowded rooms. She wasn’t imagining it.

But knowing something was happening between them wasn’t the same as knowing what to do about it.

Her dad had been loud and opinionated about her waiting until she turned sixteen before any boy could see her alone. She never got a chance to date because he'd died before her sixteenth birthday. Afterward, she had no desire to be around anyone her age.

Now, Kodiak was here. And it wasn’t a crush—not really.

It was deeper. The kind of love that slipped in over time without even knowing.

Her feelings toward him had evolved and grew over the years, but especially over the last two years.

She wasn't sure that's the way it happened for everyone, but for her, there was no backing away from her feelings toward him. Those feelings pushed her toward him.

She caught his gaze again. Her heart rattled in her ribs, and her fingers tightened around the cold cup he’d brought her. She wished fiercely that he’d do something. Anything. Take her face in those big, calloused hands and... kiss her.

But he didn’t. He headed back into the garage, leaving her aching.