Color blooms in her cheeks again, but it’s different this time. Not embarrassed. Moved.
"Guess we know who’s getting the best slice of pie at the potluck," Havoc mutters.
Viper adds, "Yup. She’s officially club royalty now."
I set the arrangements on the long table near the front window. She helps adjust them, fluffing petals and fixing angles.
Her fingers brush mine. She looks up.
That glow’s still there in her eyes. The kind that makes a man believe in things he’s never dared to hope for.
"See?" I murmur. "Told you they’d like you."
"They’re not what I expected," she whispers. "I thought it’d be... more leather and glaring."
"Oh, that comes later."
She laughs again, and I lean down to kiss the corner of her mouth.
No one whistles. No one catcalls. It’s just quiet respect. The kind that says,Yeah. We see it. We get it.
Because they know.
This girl’smine.
And that means she’stheirstoo.
Part of the family.
For real.
We finish arranging the last of the flowers. She fluffs a sunflower, adjusts a twig of wheat, then steps back with that soft, satisfied smile of hers. The guys have mostly gone back to their usual lounging and bickering, but I catch more than one glance thrown our way. None of them unkind. Just curious. Protective. Like they’re already drawing her into the circle.
Nya turns to me, her voice quiet, almost shy.
"Hey..." Her hand is still in mine. "Would it be weird if I asked to see your room?"
Thoseeyes.
Big, warm, full of mischief and something deeper. Sparkling with a kind of wonder, like she’s not just asking to see where I sleep. She’s asking to see more ofme.
Something tightens low in my gut.
I clear my throat, but it doesn’t help much. My jeans are suddenly way too snug. She has no idea what that question does to me.
"You sure?" My voice comes out lower than I intend.
She nods, biting her bottom lip. "I want to see your space. Where you live."
I exhale slowly, trying to play it cool. Buthellif she knew how hard it is not to just throw her over my shoulder and carry her there right now.
"Yeah," I say, voice rough. "I’ll show you."
Her smile widens, all sunshine and curiosity.
I lead her through the back and up the stairs, her soft footfalls trailing behind mine. The second floor is quieter, set apart from the noise and grit below. It smells like pinewood and old tobacco—familiar, steady.
But nothing about me feels steady now.
