“In your defense, I gave you plenty of reasons to feel stressed and on-guard,” she said. “I don’t think either of us was ready for what we did.”
“You more than—”
“No, Steele, don’t martyr yourself,” she said. “Yeah, you were a bit hard to pry into. I never knew much about your mother. I only learned at the funeral about your brother and father because I saw their tombstones. But you were a nice guy. Still are. I just didn’t know how to handle you, and that’s not a fault of your own.”
I chuckled.
“I’m not sure anyone knows how to handle us,” I said. “You’re with Brock because he’s the best of us. All us fuckers—me, Connor, Mason, Garrett, Zack, whoever is stupid enough to join us—we’re just a bunch of roughneck idiots.”
Tara paused mid-sip to glance up at me and shake her head. We briefly paused to put in our orders—she got a chicken salad, I requested a double-patty cheeseburger with bacon and fries—before she resumed speaking.
“You guys are good guys, but you’re not afraid to get your hands dirty. Unfortunately, when people see the dirt and not the reason for the dirty hands, they’re not the greatest at understanding. Like Elizabeth.”
She said her name with a smile. And fuck me, the mention of that Rogers girl had me feeling something much, much stronger than the hug with Tara had. I wanted to believe that I was just confused and too vulnerable after this week, but…
Well, it wasn’t like I hadn’t liked or done anything with Elizabeth before my mother’s death.
“Which brings me to why I’m here, why I set this up,” Tara said. “Why are you pushing Elizabeth away? You know she’s for real, right? She really likes you.”
I bit my lip. I had a feeling this was why she’d wanted to talk to me, but knowing it was coming hadn’t done much for me being prepared for the moment.
“I don’t get that,” I said. “Why would she—”
“Romance works in strange ways, Steele, and so it doesn’t really matter why. If I had to guess, though, her visceral, disgusted reactions to you before were her way of trying to distance herself from something she really wanted.”
Like how I’m trying to distance myself from something I really want.
“But that’s not the question. The question is, you know she’s into you, right?”
“We made out at the shop. I think I’m aware of that.”
Tara smirked and tried not to laugh.
“I don’t need all the details, Steele, just…what’s the hold-up, then? Why are you pushing her away?”
“You know why.”
“No, I don’t. Don’t do this, Steele. Don’t hole up inside yourself and start refusing to talk.”
Goddamnit. Why is it easier to have this conversation now than when we were together?
“I don’t want her to get hurt by being with me.”
“So you fear for her,” Tara said. “Just like how Brock feared for me. You fear things won’t go perfectly?”
She’s cutting right to my core.
“I know we both just talked about how neither of us was really good for each other in our relationship, but I can summarize it quite simply. I was trying to rebel against my father, not trying to have a genuine connection, so I never went past the surface-level appearance of dating a biker, or never tried hard to. But you had a fear of things not being perfect.”
“Tara—”
“No, Steele, please, I’m saying this for your good.”
I knew she was. That didn’t make it any less painful for me to hear. I knew she was one hundred percent right.
“You’re afraid to take the risk that it might not be perfect. Yes, she could get hurt. But she’s not going to join you in fights against the Bandits. She’s not going to learn firearm defenses. She’s just going to spend time with you. And I assume you’re not going to take her out to Bandit parties.”
I chuckled.
