I looked up into those eyes that he’d hid so often behind sunglasses. There were no lenses covering them now. I could see through them and to his soul.
It was a wounded soul, but it was a good one.
“You know that even though my past may look nicer to an outsider, it’s got its own flaws,” I said. “I’m a daddy’s girl, and unfortunately, I don’t mean that in the good sense of the word. I’m deathly afraid of doing anything different than what’s expected, even if I’m getting better at it. But if you can look past that, if you can forgive the moments when I judge too hard or fall back into bad habits too much, then I’ll keep coming for you.”
Steele, for the first time since he and I had gotten split apart by the sheriff, smiled.
“Well, you got on my bike, so that’s a start.”
I gently laughed. He pulled me in with his arm, and I leaned in with him, taking in the three graves. I never did meet any of the Harrisons, but in a way, it felt like I knew of their presence very well. It was impossible to know Steele without knowing the impact his family had on him.
But it was possible to know Steele at a level than he had allowed before. It was possible for me to like him and care for him, now that he’d made peace with them.
And it was possible for us to keep seeing what would happen.
“Thanks for coming out here,” he said. “Let’s say you and I head back someplace a little less somber, huh? Celebrate kicking the Bandits ass and maybe knocking a modicum of common sense into the sheriff?”
I smiled and scratched his back.
“I’d like that. Where to?”
“I was thinking the house.”
“Will we be alone?”
I’d meant the question so that we could talk further. As soon as I said it, though, I knew it could lead to much more.
And I was OK with that.
“Yes.”
“Then let’s go.”
* * *
I used to hate walking into Steele’s house with his four roommates.
The place had always felt more like a frat house than a place where adults lived. Beer stains, the smell of rank food, and even the scent of sex had a tendency to pervade the place.
But when I walked up, the first thing I noticed was that it was somewhat clean. It was nothing approaching the level of cleanliness I would have maintained, but I knew it was unfair to expect the boys to be as clean as I was. I had to have my place be pristine whenever I lived there; I could accept being in a place that was suitable for visiting, not for permanent dwelling.
“A lot nicer than it usually is,” I said.
“We’ve been making an effort to hang out at the repair shop more,” Steele said. “It’s our way of making a habit for us to hang out so when we get more club members, it’ll be easier for us to have a single place that we can control.”
“So the neighbors won’t hate you?”
“Oh, we don’t give a fuck about the neighbors,” Steele said. “But it’ll be easier to convince people to come to a clubhouse than it will be a house in a semi-sketchy neighborhood.”
Well, I suppose it’s better than being fully sketchy. But I’ll be safe with Steele; I know it.
He unlocked the door and led me to the kitchen, which, once again, was far cleaner than I could ever have recalled. There were no beer cans on the floor, no litter on the ground, no stains, nothing. Granted, it didn’t look like the tops had been wiped down, and there were a couple of plates in the kitchen sink, but again, compared to being here bored with Tara at one a.m. in the last two years, it was a marked improvement.
“You know, I used to hate coming here,” I said. “I used to always begrudge Tara for dragging my ass out.”
“Yeah?” Steele said, putting his arm around me.
It was a very seductive hold. And boy…I was already low-key turned on, like not overtly desiring Steele, but revved up and ready to go. And it had only taken that kind of touch to get me feeling like something good was about to happen.
