“You think fish ever get thirsty?”
Cash and I both turn to stare at Ozzie like he’s grown a second head. We’re mounted on our bikes outside the Steel Saloon, engines off, waiting to roll out for Tom’s brilliant plan to hit the Peña shipment.
The night’s quiet except for crickets and Ozzie’s random philosophical questions.
“I don’t know, Oz,” Cash finally says, adjusting his gloves. “You think that helmet’s squeezing your last two brain cells too tight?”
Ozzie chuckles, completely unbothered. “Joke’s on you. That ship sailed a long time ago, Cash my friend.”
We all laugh despite the tension of what we’re about to do. I check my watch. Almost ten p.m.
“Where the hell are Eddie and Johnny?”
“Johnny probably fell in,” Ozzie says with a grin, and we all know what he means. The guy’s got the bladder control of a seventy-year-old woman.
“That’s… possible,” Cash admits. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
I shake my head. The younger guys never miss a chance to give Flanagan shit. It reminds me of how Tom and I used to be when we were their age.
“Think this’ll go smooth?” Ozzie asks, his humor fading slightly. “Tom’s got us playing with fire here.”
Cash gives a half-shrug. “Mace wanted nothing to do with it. But can’t say I blame him. I’d rather be home right now. Kori and I had plans.”
“Speaking of Kori,” Ozzie says, his grin returning, “you still thinking about popping the question?”
“The question?” I repeat. I glance over at Cash with both brows raised. “You meanthatquestion?”
Cash actually looks embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck like a teenager. “I don’t know. Maybe. Her divorce has been final for a while now, and we’ve been taking things slow. Just want to make sure it’s the right time.”
“Damn,” Ozzie whistles. “Mace off getting married. Logan’s got a kid. Now Cash is shopping for rings. Maybe me and Zoe need to go buy a toaster together or something. Make itofficialofficial.”
“What about you, Prez?” Cash asks, flipping things on me. He smiles broadly, showing off what Mace often called his “panty-dropper” smile. “Any special lady you’re not telling us about?”
“Vice Prez,” I correct, ignoring the rest of the question.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t answer it in my head—Solana’s pretty heart-shaped face immediately flashes in my mind.
Then I see her brown eyes fill with the same hurt and anger from last night. The way she looked when she told me to stay away from her. The way her lips felt pressed against mine for the few perfect seconds before everything went to hell.
It’s good that we fought. Good that she stormed out.
We can’t cross any more lines. She’s twenty years old, Eddie’s niece, my ex-wife’s babysitter. The list of reasons to stay away is longer than my rap sheet.
Butfuck… it’s only been twenty-four hours, and I’m going crazy not talking to her. No text goodnight. No call about her upcoming audition. No laugh at something stupid I said. How did I get so used to her so fast? How did she become part of my routine without me noticing ’til she was gone?
This isn’t normal. I don’t remember falling this hard even for Rachel, and I married that woman. I had kids with her. Built a life with her. But I never felt this...obsessed.
Never counted the hours since we last talked. Never replayed a single kiss over and over in my mind like a broken record.
It’s just infatuation. It has to be. I’m a forty-five-year-old man having a midlife crisis over a girl young enough to be my daughter. It’s pathetic. It’s wrong in every conceivable way.
But fucking Christ… the way she kissed me back. Like she wanted it as much as I did and felt this same insane pull between us. I’ve kissed plenty of women in my life, but none of them lit me up like that.
Not a single one made me want to throw away every rule, every boundary, every piece of common sense just to do it again…
“Silver?” Cash asks, staring at me. “You good?”
“Yeah. No special lady. Too focused on keeping the club from imploding.”
