Page 120 of Lost Lyrebird

“Yeah, like the regular people of this world who don’t have time for shit like cardio and meal prep.Now, as long as you don’t do that shit again, we can be friends.”

“Hey, now,” Kendra says.“I love runn—”

Septic places his hand over her mouth, and when her gaze snaps to his, he shakes his head.“Don’t argue with him or he’ll go on and on all night.”To Bodie, he says, “Finish the story.So you beat his ass?”

“But you should’ve heard him,” Dozer cuts in.He looks at Goose.“Do you remember what he was yelling as he chased that asshole down?”Dozer can barely get the words out.He wipes tears of laughter from his eyes.“’Slow down, you dopey hillbilly fuck, so I can send your ass back to bumfuckville.’And I think he said something like, ‘I’m gonna put my boot so far up your ass, your roosters gonna crow.’”

The entire group loses their shit.

“Bumfuckville,” Goose laughs and shakes his head.“Fuck, I forgot about that part.Jesus.”

“And what was the wife screaming the entire time?”Dozer asks Goose.

“Hooligans.She called us fuckin’ hooligans.It’s like we were in a time warp or we’d been dropped in a bad episode of Pleasantville.”

“So what happened after you beat his ass?”Septic asks.

Bodie opens his mouth, but Goose holds his hand up and replies.“He made the guy kiss the toe of his boot before he’d let him leave.”

“No shit?”Septic says.

“No shit,” Goose replies.“He had to apologize, beg for forgiveness on his goddamn knees, promise to never fuck with another biker again, and then kiss the toe of his boot.”

Bodie shrugs.“Funny what a gun to the face can do to a man, am I right?”

“Bodie!”Kendra scolds.

“What?You can bet your ass he’s gonna think twice about driving like an asshole and starting fights with another motorist.”

“That’s a thing for you, isn’t it?”Stone enters the conversation.

Bodie smiles.“Yep, number one fuckin’ pet peeve.People who drive like douche nozzles.”

“Swear to fuck, he must have worked at the DMV or been a meter maid in another life,” Dozer adds.

“Or maybe he was a pi—” Septic starts.

Bodie cuts him off.“Don’t you fuckin’ dare say a pig or I’m throwing this fuckin’ beer at your head.”

When I laugh, Goose’s deep blue gaze immediately connects with mine.

Breaking the connection is the hard part.I do, eventually, but not before my mind runs a little wild with fantasies of what this moment would look like in a different light.With me sitting on his lap versus Stone’s.What would it have been like today if I’d ridden on the back of his bike?

Though yes, that’s not possible, but still the visual does pop into my mind for a split second.

Goose’s fierce gaze seems to imply he’s thinking similar thoughts because the emotion in his eyes is telling.

So, yeah, I force myself to refocus my attention on Stone.I click off my emotions as much as I’m able to and act the part, while trying to ignore the stare I can feel directed at me from across the party as the night wears on.

After some heavy petting with Stone later that night in the privacy of his tent, I beg off and tell him I’m on my period.I encourage him to rejoin the party and get what he needs from one of the other girls.I’ve dosed him with sleeping pills a few times to get a reprieve, but I try not to do that too often so he doesn’t catch on.It takes some major convincing to get him to go, but he finally leaves me and rejoins the party.

I spend the next hour praying he doesn’t return any time soon and listening to the voices from the party.Goose’s is low and hard to hear, but when I focus on it, the cadence of it eventually lulls me to sleep.

Cajun, Pike, and other members of our El Paso chapter rolled in later than expected.Griz, Bodie, Mav, and I help them set up camp alongside ours with nothing but the firelight to guide us.Having just finished, we’re standing around shooting the shit when Star strolls up with a few cold beers and passes them out.She’s one of the clubpieces that came along for the ride.A pretty blonde thing with a nice figure, but a mouth that leaves a lot to be desired.Taz often refers to her as the club’s tank skank.Mainly, because she’s not particular.She chases after any biker with a hog, particularly those with a higher-ranking patch.

Tonight, for whatever reason, I’m the unlucky bastard she’s set her sights on.

I take the beer graciously, but frown at her when she runs her hand up my chest.Without invitation, she wraps her hand around the back of my neck, presses her body into mine, and huskily whispers, “Can I do anything else for you?”