Page 22 of Just Heartbeats (Royalla Motorcycle Club #1)

Roma sat behind the desk in the garage's cramped office, pretending to do inventory for the third time that hour. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, but the numbers blurred together, making her recount. She couldn't concentrate with Kodiak away from the compound.

She stood and planted her hands on her hips. It was impossible to sit still and finish any work.

Kodiak had left early that morning, on the hunt for the Deception member who'd threatened Royalla. Since then, she hadn't received a phone call or text. There was no update from the other members. Just empty hours, dragging by.

She should've quit work an hour ago, but she needed to keep busy to keep her mind off Kodiak. But that failed.

Rusty leaned into the office doorway, wiping his hands with a grease-stained rag. "You're gonna wear a hole in the floor, pacing like that."

She hadn't realized she was pacing again.

Cash followed Rusty into the office and went straight to the coffee maker. "Relax, Roma. Kodiak's fine. It's not like you're his old lady or something. It's not your job to worry about him."

She choked on air. Patting her chest, she swallowed numerous times, trying to recover. That hit harder than she expected.

"What if I were his old lady? Could I worry about him then?" She coughed. "Geez, haven't you ever had anyone to worry about before?"

Rusty's brows lifted. Cash made a quiet noise in his throat like he might say something more, but thought better of it. Without another word, they turned and walked back to the garage floor, returning to the half-dismantled car up on the lift.

She stayed where she was, staring at the empty doorway.

Not his old lady? Really? Did she have to be his old lady for them to take her concern for Kodiak seriously?

Like she hadn't relied on him for the last two years after her dad died?

Not to mention, knowing Kodiak her whole damn life.

Do they think her age disqualified her from having the right to care about someone?

They didn't see what she and Kodiak had together. She huffed. They weren't there each day and night. They also had no idea how close they were or the kind of conversations they had. She wasn't his old lady, but there wasn't a title for what they had together.

She couldn't think of anyone, not a single person besides her dad, who was as close to Kodiak as she was. She'd seen him broken, bleeding, laughing, and exhausted. They'd mourned her dad together and came out the other side because of each other.

He never shut her out. He might struggle and fight with her, but he was there, every step—even if she wanted more of him. Sometimes, she wasn't sure she could ever have enough of him. Her desires were consuming her.

She sat back down, the office chair creaking under her, and rubbed her arms like she could shake off Cash and Rusty's dismissal. Maybe they thought she was some kid hanging around too long. But she knew better. And deep down, she suspected Kodiak did too.

She only had to wait until he was ready to accept his feelings for her.

The office felt too small. The walls, cluttered with job sheets and rusted license plates, closed in around her. Roma stared at the screen in front of her. The inventory list was still open, blinking like it was mocking her for pretending she gave a damn about oil filters and matching paint chips.

She spun the chair, letting her head fall back, and closed her eyes. The Royalla men were two-faced. They had no problem fucking around with girls her age, but when it came to her, they treated her like she was still thirteen years old and too young to love or understand life in general.

A rumble vibrated the chair. She put her feet down, stopping the chair from twirling. Her heart stuttered. It was a sound she recognized instantly—Kodiak's Harley. Deep, rough, distinct. Like it had chewed through a hundred miles of asphalt to come home to her.

She shot to her feet. All self-doubt left her. There was nothing anyone could say that would lessen her feelings about Kodiak.

The sound cut off, and through the grimy office window, she saw him. The wind tousled his dark hair. Road dust coated his vest. He walked into the garage.

But he didn't look at the office. Didn't even glance her way.

Instead, he walked straight over to Rusty and Cash by the lift. The men greeted him with claps on the back, and a beer bottle slid into his hand like a reward. He stood there, speaking in a low, serious tone, his back turned toward the office. Toward her.

Something inside her folded in half.

So that was it.

She sat back down more carefully, worried any sound would draw attention to her, and she didn't want his attention that way.

The relief she'd felt when she heard his bike quickly turned to goosebumps and a chill. She closed the inventory program and shut off the computer. Then she stood from the chair and left the office through the back door.

If he wanted to return and buddy up with the men first thing, then she'd go somewhere it wasn't so obvious that he was ignoring her.

She'd retreat to her room in the clubhouse, where the smell of cigarette smoke and the sound of Alanis Morissette singing in the background was more comforting than the pity she'd get from the men if they caught her crying.

Because no one understood that she wasn't only upset, she was hurt .

All she wanted— all she ever wanted—was to love him. To be near him. To show him in all the quiet ways that she was here for him.

But maybe that was too much for someone like him, who was responsible for running a motorcycle club. Maybe she was too young, too visible, too obvious about how she felt. Maybe he didn't have room in his life for love because he was consumed with running Royalla.

Maybe Cash and Rusty were speaking the truth when they told her she had no right to worry because she wasn't Kodiak's old lady. And because she wasn't put in that special spot in his life, she was like any other woman visiting the club—a second-class citizen.

She didn't make it halfway across the lot before the ache in her chest spread. She blinked faster, keeping the tears from falling, and quickened her pace.

Let him talk to the guys. Let him celebrate being safe with the people who weren't half as worried about whether he made it home. If she meant nothing to him, he could get used to her not being there at all.