Page 12

12

Reagan

In a room where madness is plentiful, there are invisible lines everywhere.

Between the old ladies and patch bunnies.

Between the club members and prospects.

Between the townies and club regulars.

One Twisted Kings party and I’m quickly wrapping my head around the dynamics, even if I’m still figuring out what to make of them. Or Jesse, for that matter, who is relaxed and entirely different around his brothers.

He’s more lighthearted at the clubhouse than he was the first time I saw him here. And definitely more at ease than he’s been around me when we’re at his house. He smiles without the weight in his eyes. A disarming, blinding grin stretches his face at something Ghost says, and it steals my breath.

I pretend not to notice as I take a sip of my drink and watch him from across the bar, but I’m failing miserably, considering I have no idea what Luna is talking about. I can’t help it. The second Chaos came out of the hallway with some girl, they disappeared to the other end of the bar, and Jesse hasn’t said a word to me since.

I can’t say I blame him.

Jesse is surrounded by beautiful women who look willing to give him anything he wants. Temptation is everywhere. The hum of excitement buzzes in the air. This isn’t the kind of place where you seek out love or commitment. Which is probably why Jesse sounded so put off when I asked him if he had an old lady.

Why settle down when he can have anyone he wants?

The same pretty blonde who was hanging on Jesse when I arrived has made her way back over to him. She giggles at something he says, resting her palm on his bicep. She’s obsessing over him almost as much as I am.

There’s no room for jealousy in this room, and he doesn’t owe me anything. Still, I have to turn away from Jesse and the blonde because I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it if they disappear into a different room. Or do worse. Not everyone bothers finding somewhere private to fuck if the couple moaning to my right is any indication.

Luna sips her drink, telling a story as she stands between Ghost’s legs. He’s sitting on a barstool, and the ones on either side of him are empty, but she seems content being as close to him as possible. Her fingers trace the tattoos on the back of his hand, which he doesn’t seem to mind as he types something into his phone .

There’s no one else in this room like Ghost. While most of the men here seem happy to indulge in what’s in front of them, Ghost hasn’t so much as glanced at a woman who isn’t Luna.

And then there’s Steel and Tempe, standing outside, talking like they’re the only two people there.

They’re unicorns. It’s the only possible explanation.

I sigh, searching for Jesse when I shouldn’t. The crowd parts in time for me to see his strong jaw tick. His throat works as he takes a sip of beer, and it’s no wonder he’s unattached.

The blonde leans closer to him, whispering something in his ear. His expression is impossible to read when it doesn’t falter. I don’t blame her for being interested when he looks like that. After all, it’d be even worse if she knew he’s so much more than that tall, muscular exterior.

Jesse isn’t just gorgeous; he’s an amazing father who spends every free moment with his daughter. He took care of my great-aunt when she started to get sick, and he refuses to send any of the medical bills to my family.

He leaves a warm pot of coffee brewing when he wakes up before me, and if I so much as mention an ingredient or something missing in the kitchen, he just so happens to have it in hand when he walks back through the door.

Jesse is observant. Thoughtful.

I cannot fall for him.

“I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure.” A man stops at my side, getting an immediate eye roll from Luna.

“Don’t bother, Soul,” Luna says to him. “Reagan’s too smart to fall for your charm. ”

“Reagan, is it?” He ignores Luna, leaning against the bar and blocking my view of Jesse.

I’ve seen Soul walking around, but he’s never approached me. From the patch on his cut, I know he’s the club’s vice president. But while Steel always seems stressed and serious, Soul seems to be the exact opposite. His grin is uninhibited and wild, and the brightness in his eyes is perfectly carefree.

He rakes his fingers into his thick, blond hair, smiling down at me.

“Let me get you a drink.” He tips his chin up to a prospect walking past. “Another one for the lady.”

The prospect rushes to meet his request while I continue staring at Soul. I can’t help it. He’s got this light about him that’s inviting and hard to deny. He’s gorgeous, in a walking-red-flag kind of way. And even if I’m not interested in him beyond this conversation, I can see why people in the room seem to gravitate toward him.

“I’ve already got a drink.” I lift my beer.

“And I love a lady who drinks beer.”

“You love the ladies, period.” Luna groans, nudging my arm. “Don’t fall for this act. Trust me.”

“And here I thought we were friends, Luna?” Soul fakes a pout that is absolutely ridiculous.

I can’t help but laugh.

“We are friends. Just like Reagan is my friend . So you better believe I’m not letting you pull this shit on her. She’s too good for you.”

“I’m hurt.”

Luna rolls her eyes. “You’ll get over it. ”

“Didn’t say I wouldn’t.” He grins, leaning closer to her. “But you’re still a cockblock.”

I almost choke on my beer. “That’s presumptuous. When did we go from saying hello to you openly admitting you’re trying to fuck me?”

Soul rakes his teeth over his bottom lip, looking me over. “The second we started this conversation.”

“At least you’re honest.” I shake my head.

“It was worth a shot.” He shrugs, turning his attention to Ghost, who is so quiet most of the time he practically blends in, so I forgot we were having this conversation in front of him. “Why the fuck are you always working? Put down the phone and put your dick in your girl or something. Live a little.”

At least Soul’s comment is enough to drag Ghost’s attention from his phone. His narrowed eyes land on Soul for only a second, but he doesn’t bother responding.

“Whatever.” Soul shakes his head, returning his attention to me. “Let’s fucking do something. Pool? Darts?”

I glance at the pool table, where a game has turned into a couple on the brink of fucking in the middle of the room. “Pool might be difficult. Lots of… balls on that table already.”

A wild laugh bursts out of Soul, and he slings an arm around my shoulder. “I like you, Reagan. Darts it is.”

“Don’t even think about it, Soul,” Luna yells after him.

But he ignores her, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me through the crowd .

I look up in time to see Jesse’s eyes on us from across the room. He hasn’t budged, but his fingers are gripping his beer like he wants to break it. And when I look from him to Soul, I see that Soul is grinning at him.

Soul isn’t just being flirty; he’s testing Jesse. Challenging him to do something about it.

Not that he will, seeing as he’s still distracted by the beautiful blonde at his side, and I’m nothing more than his daughter’s nanny.

“So, Reagan. How’s it going with my boy, Legacy? I hear he’s being his usual difficult self.”

We stop at the dartboard, and I sense more than curiosity working behind his eyes. The question sounds innocent enough, but I get the impression he’s not actually worried about me. He’s feeling me out. Protecting his club.

“It’s been fine. We’ve found common ground.” I shrug, trying to sound nonchalant.

Soul hums, watching me. “And Margaret’s your aunt?”

“Great-aunt. She’s my grandma’s sister. Although she was more of a parent than mine half the time. At least when she was in town, we weren’t alone or ignored. Especially after my dad—” I cut myself off when I see Soul’s stone-cold expression.

I’m rambling about my issues. My family.

“It’s not interesting.” I shake my head. “But she’s why I’m here. I owe her.”

“Got it.” His eyes skim over me, and the blue is so piercing I wonder if they’re how he got his name, because they seem to see right through to my soul .

“So… darts.” I change the subject, and the casual grin reclaims his cheeks.

“Darts,” he agrees, walking to pull them out of the board. “Need some help? I can get behind you and show you how it’s done if you’d like.”

“I’m sure you would.” I roll my eyes. “But I think I’ve got this.”

On my first try, I barely miss the bullseye. Not bad for being out of practice.

“The girl can throw a dart.” Soul lets out a slow whistle. “Not your first time, I’m guessing?”

“Darts was one of the few things my dad and I had in common.”

“Remind me to never give you a knife. I’ve got a feeling you’d be deadly.”

“You’d be wrong.”

Soul watches me finish my final shots before walking over to collect the darts. “So, Reagan, you’re from Arizona?”

He easily slips back into his interrogation, and for Jesse’s sake, I go along with it. The last thing I want is to cause problems for him with his club, especially considering he’s letting me stay here.

“I’m from Glendale.”

“Your work doesn’t care that you’re taking a hiatus?” Soul walks to the line, throwing his first dart and hitting it dead center.

“I’m taking a year off,” I lie, knowing it won’t sound good if I say my obsessed former boss fired me. “I worked for a school, and our contracts are renewed yearly. I decided not to go back when this year started so I could be here to help out. Margaret’s more important than a job right now. After this—” After what? She gets better or doesn’t. “We’ll see.”

The thought of returning to Glendale when I’m no longer needed here sours my stomach.

Soul hums, throwing another dart that lands near the center.

“You’re not so bad at darts yourself.”

“Practice makes perfect.” He winks, and I get the impression he’s not just talking about the game. “Maybe next time we’ll make a little wager.”

“I’d feel bad swindling you out of all your money.”

“The confidence is sexy as fuck.” He grins. “Maybe we’d be better off betting something I don’t mind losing, like our clothes.”

“Keep it in your pants.” Jesse’s deep voice vibrates the air, and I swear I melt.

He circles to my side, standing so close our arms brush. That insignificant touch intensifies between my legs, which is utterly ridiculous.

The only explanation is that it’s been an embarrassing amount of time since I’ve had sex.

“You okay?” Jesse’s eyebrows pinch as he looks at me, and I feel blood rushing to my cheeks.

“Yes.” I hate that it comes out pitchy, so I try to recover. “Just—I need to use the bathroom.”

What is it about this man that makes me a complete idiot ?

“I’ve got a bathroom—” Soul starts, but Jesse cuts him off.

“You can use the one in my room.”

Soul smiles, and I wonder if that was his plan all along. If everything is a challenge to him.

A bet.

A bargain.

His grin stretches his cheeks as he turns his attention from Jesse to me. “Nice to meet you, Reagan. We’ll catch up soon.”

That makes Jesse’s jaw tick, but I don’t know why. Soul is just being polite. Which I appreciate after Jesse has mostly ignored me since I arrived.

Soul disappears, and Jesse starts guiding me through the clubhouse. I don’t actually need to use the bathroom, so now that Jesse is taking me to one, I feel a little guilty. But I had to say something to stop him from noticing that one look makes me burn up from the inside.

His hand finds my lower back to guide me around a corner, and my skin tingles. I miss him the moment his fingers fall away.

“You have a room at the clubhouse?” I ask as Jesse stops in front of a door and pulls out a key.

“All ranked members do. Some use them more than others.”

“And you…”

“Not as often as the rest.” He scratches the scruff on his jaw. “Mostly on nights like this when it’s easier to keep these things separate from Bea.”

These things .

Parties.

Women.

Sex.

I don’t want to know what exactly he’s referring to because I have no reason to be jealous when I’m nothing to him.

Jesse swings the door open and waits for me to walk in first.

“I thought your house was bare, but this is something else.” I look around the nearly empty room.

There’s a bed and a dresser but no decorations. Nothing more than a computer on a desk and a few pieces of clothing in a laundry hamper.

“What’s wrong with my house?”

I smirk. “Nothing. But you’re definitely a bachelor. Have you ever even heard of a nicknack? Or a flowerpot?”

“I never understood bringing dirt in the house.”

“Flowers… not just dirt.”

He shrugs, and I make the mistake of looking up at him. His bright-blue eyes meet mine, and a smile blooms from somewhere deep. Pure and genuine, like he never shows me—or anyone for that matter.

It’s like staring into the sun.

If I don’t blink, I’ll go blind.

I step back, looking away. “Is the bathroom through there?”

My voice is as wobbly as my knees, but hopefully, he doesn’t notice.

“Yeah.” He clears his throat, walking to sit on the bed like he has no intention of leaving .

“You don’t have to wait for me.”

“It’s fine. Take your time.”

This is dangerous. A mistake waiting to happen.

I used the excuse of the bathroom as an escape plan, but all I can do now is disappear into the bathroom and hope it’s enough to quell this ache radiating through my chest. Because if anything has become clear tonight, it’s that Jesse is a bad idea wrapped in a gorgeous package. One that’s getting harder to resist.