He closed the door and crossed his arms. “She needs a leash.”
“I warned you,” I pointed out.
“Babe—”
“No,” I repeated, facing him. “I get that you two butt heads. You’re both alpha to the core, so it doesn’t surprise me. Yes, she’s a lot sometimes, unapologetically, but there’s a reason she’s my best friend. You will never find anyone more loyal or kind. It all just happens to be wrapped up in a tiny free-loving package.”
“I don’t care that she’s having a little fun, Raquel. I didn’t even care that she instructed two of my prospects to fuckin’ pull everything out of the kitchen cabinets and move things around to ‘unblock the flow of chi’ or ‘release the energy’ or what the fuck ever.”
“Yes, you did,” I countered.
“Okay, well, in comparison to what she just did, the kitchen cabinets were nothing.”
I dropped a t-shirt on the bed and focused on him. “What happened?”
“She had the same dumbass prospects move Gertrude.”
“Who’s Gertrude?”
“The 1926 Harley Wrath has been restoring for the past two years.”
My stomach roiled. “She moved it?”
“Yeah.”
“Did she saywhyshe moved it?”
“She said it made the room look unkempt.” He dragged his hands down his face. “It’s a fucking garage, Raquel.”
I bit my lip in an effort not to smile. ‘Unkempt’ was one of Sierra’s favorite words. “Just ask her to put it back.”
“Raquel, we are so far beyond that, it’s not even funny.”
“Why?”
“Because Wrath lost his shit and Sierra’s sobbing in the bunk room.”
“Oh my god, she’scrying? Way to fucking bury the lead,Adam,” I growled as I rushed past him and out of the room. I found my best friend in a puddle, curled up in the fetal position on one of the lower bunkbeds. “Sierra?”
“Go away,” she grumbled.
I closed the door and made my way to her, sitting on the edge of the mattress. “Honey, are you okay?”
“Does it look like I’m okay?” she snapped. “This place is full of hostile energy.”
“Do you think it might have been a bad idea to move the bike?”
“I do now!” she cried out. “I was just trying to help. You know, give the place a little more hominess.”
“Honey, it’s a biker club. Hominess doesn’t really apply.”
“Yeah, well that beast of a man made sure I was fully versed in that fact.”
I forced a smile. “I’m sure he’ll apologize when he calms down.”
“He called me a hippy bitch, Raquel,” she whispered. “I don’t know that an apology will be sufficient.”
I sighed. This was unfortunately true. ‘Hippy’ Sierra could handle, but you didn’t call her a bitch and come out unscathed. “I’m sorry.”
