Axle’s eyes narrow. “You can see I’m having breakfast with Elena. And anyway, if I didn’t call you, it was on purpose.” He waves her off.
The server and I flinch at the same time. I’m feeling secondhand embarrassment.
“Fucking rude bitch,” he says under his breath as he watches her leave. Then he looks back at me. “What’s wrong?” he asks, staring at my plate of food before looking back at me.
“Nothing.”
“No, there’s a problem with your food. I saw it all over your face before that chick started carrying on.”
“I ordered buttermilk pancakes,” I say softly. I hate making a fuss. “I think this might be strawberry.”
He leans over and takes my plate, but I grasp the other side of it. “Don’t worry, it’s fine,” I whisper, not wanting to make a scene.
His nose crinkles. “No, it’s not okay.”
His unwavering gaze makes me let go of the plate. He’s not the type to give in. I shrink in my chair with my head bowed as he goes back inside the café. I sit up when I hear his heavy footsteps return.
“You weren’t going to say anything, were you?” he asks. “You were just going to eat them, knowing it wasn’t what you ordered.”
I grudgingly nod. People pleaser... that’s me.
He shakes his head. “Don’t be shy. If there’s a problem, say it. Don’t let people walk over you.”
I offer him a small smile, appreciating that he stuck up for me. I already know it’s something I need to work on. Being constantly criticized by my mother has left its scars.
“You want some of my food while you’re waiting?” he asks. His enormous plate of food includes ham, sausages, eggs, bacon, a hash brown, and toast.
“No, thank you.”
He picks up a piece of the crispy bacon and takes a bite. “Good, I’m not one to share.”
This man has no filter, but he’s a giant goofball. “Are you really going to eat all that?” I ask in disbelief.
His smile answers my question. “You bet I am.”
“Your profile said you’re a mechanic. Where do you work?”
“I’m the road captain of the War Brothers MC and I service, fix, and modify our motorcycles. I’m not a qualified mechanic, though, so I just do it for our club.”
“What’s a road captain?”
“I plan our rides, ensure our safety, service our bikes. That type of thing.”
I tilt my head. “And you get paid to do that?”
After taking a huge bite of egg on toast, he replies, “Sure do.”
Wow... he’s pretty lucky. “What do you mean, you’re not a qualified mechanic?”
“Ah-ah-ah,” he says, wagging his index finger from side to side. “My turn to ask a question.”
A sliver of annoyance flows through me. I’m greedy for more information. He’s intriguing. I’ve never known anyone like him.
“Why’d you talk to me? Am I just a one-night stand to brag to your friends about?”
“No!” I shriek, utterly insulted. “Mel created the profile.”
He snorts. “It’s okay. You don’t have to lie. I know you think I’m sexy.”
