“I’m free Friday afternoon. Sorry for delay in response.”
Wow.
So not only did we have something arranged, he even responded to me in the text. One coffee date—yes, it was a date—wasn’t suddenly going to make my life perfect. It felt like I was about to alternate pretty regularly between heaven and hell.
But so long as Mason, a Black Reaper, was the one providing me moments of heaven, I felt more prepared than I’d anticipated for dealing with hell.
Mason
It was Friday afternoon, I had a date in about two hours, and no one else had any fucking idea.
By this point in time, what had once been the “Bernard Boys” house had essentially become me, Connor, and Zack, with Connor and Zack barely in the house anymore. As a result, I had the entire house to myself on all but the rare night, which was perfect for the amount of privacy I liked to have.
Because I really, really, really fucking did not want anyone to know I was about to go on a date with Rachel.
I didn’t give a fuck if Connor suspected it. I didn’t give a fuck if Brock had permitted it. I didn’t give a fuck if the entire club had some idea of it. The less people knew, the better. We all were private by nature to the world, but we also all had our own skeletons as it related to each other. I just preferred my skeleton to be a woman I might care about than…
Well, thanthat.
But not even Hannah knew about that.
I put on one layer of cologne. I wouldn’t be able to shake the scent of gasoline and oil from the bike ride, but at least if I had some cologne countering it, the scent might not overpower her. But I still felt absurd doing this. It wasn’t even my cologne—it was Zack’s. I didn’t date enough for something like fucking cologne.
I put on my cut. It didn’t matter if we were going to a literal church; there was no fucking way I was ever going anywhere without my cut on. I headed downstairs, trying not to draw the attention of whoever had the TV on.
I got to the doorway when I heard fucking Connor’s voice.
“Where the fuck you going?”
It wasn’t a malicious question. More one meant for curiosity’s sake.
“For a ride.”
“Alone? Now?”
“Out to Albuquerque.”
If Connor had his suspicions, I was doing nothing to assuage them. And if he had them, I didn’t much care beyond him not following me. I opened the door, shut it casually, bounded down the stairs, got on my bike, and revved away. I looked back once.
Connor was not following me.
I supposed I had overthought the damn thing. It wasn’t like we were teenagers anymore who needed to watch out for Mom and Dad.Wouldn’t that be something, just to have that again…
I shook the thought from my head and instead focused my attention on what was to come. My…my date with Rachel Reid.
I couldn’t fucking believe I was saying that. But here I was. And it was absolutely what this was.
No one had ever pursued me like she had. It was kind of remarkable, to be honest. I didn’t know what the fuck she saw in me that made her so attracted to me.
One thing I knew for damn sure was she didn’t know everything about me. Anyone that did who had half an ounce of a brain would have moved far the fuck away from me. And that even included Hannah.
My sister knew me better than anyone in this world. For a long stretch of time, it felt like we only had each other when our parents died. Maybe that was why I reacted so strongly when Garrett got her pregnant—not just because it was fucking Garrett, but because it felt like she’d found someone else she could confide in.
But even she didn’t know the full truth. Even she…
Hey, dummy, you’re about to meet a wonderful girl for coffee who’s been through some shit. How about you stop acting like a goddamn ass and get your shit together?
I bit my lip, grunted “fuck,” and turned my focus to the road. It was time for the motorcycle to become less of a chance to let the mind roam free and more for me to concentrate all of my efforts on getting to the coffee shop.
