“What is it?” I ask.
“He’s going to be there tomorrow, you know?” Her voice is low and sounds apologetic. I stop moving. This entire process has been happening so fast I haven’t allowed myself to think about him. Well, that’s a lie—I think about him at least once a day and then chastise myself for it. We haven’t planned a traditional rehearsal for the wedding party to meet up, so I’ve been able to avoid him at all costs. My stomach twists at the thought of seeing him, but I blow out a quick breath and resume putting on my socks as if the whole situation doesn’t make me want to hurl.
“Yep, I gathered that much when you told me he’s Blaze’s best man.” My gut twists a little more thinking back to the last time I saw Axel. I was so mad and hurt, I walked away from him and forced myself to never look back. In the moment it felt like my heart had been ripped out and I had been so stupid to believe that the connection we had could happen so fast, be so perfect.
Later that day, Marley had found me cuddled up on the couch, mindlessly watching anything to get my mind off the situation. She told me that he was telling the truth, but by thetime I was finally ready to talk to Axel, months had gone by and I didn’t want to rehash the whole situation. Part of me knew he was telling the truth—but I think everything was happening so fast between us and I panicked. I saw my way out, and I took it.
I had just started to feel better. The thought of it all makes me queasy, and as much as I’d like to think I’m over Axel, my heart… likes to remind me I’m not.
I close my eyes and swallow down the thick emotions stuck in my throat.
“Think you’ll be okay?” Marley rasps. I pick up my phone off the bed and start walking to the kitchen to make a cup of tea.
“It will be fine, Marley; we haven’t seen each other in four months. I bet he’s already moved on.” I wait for her response with bated breath. I do this from time to time, wanting to know how he’s doing but not wanting to actually ask. The line is silent, and then I hear someone speaking in the background.
“Hey, Jen, Blaze is here and he wants me to come see where everything is set up so we can make adjustments.”
“No worries, get some rest tonight! I’ll see you in the morning.” I pick up the phone once more, my cup of chamomile tea in hand, and walk over to sit on the couch.
“Bright and early!” I hear my best friend say loudly. And with that, the call ends. I laugh at how excited yet stressed Marley is. She is going to be the most gorgeous bride tomorrow and really has nothing to worry about. I lean my head back to rest on the top cushion of the couch, remembering the day that Blaze told Marley he wanted to claim her to the club. Mar and I were sitting outside our apartments on a picnic table enjoying the small amount of sunlight we get here in Cranson Creek when Blaze drove up with Jax. Blaze had been working all day and was covered in grease and whatever else from his day at the mechanic shop. Up until that point Marley had been unsure about being claimed. She hated the term “claimed” and thoughtit meant that he was somehow above her in their relationship. She let him know that if he wanted to make it official, then they were getting married as equal partners in a marriage. And legally, not just in the eyes of the club.
“Max, I know this whole macho man bullshit is like a thing for you guys, but no way in hell are you going to “claim” me.” She’d glared at him as she crossed her arms. “If you want me, then you better propose and only under the guise that we are partners, equals — not that I’m in some way your property.”
Jax whistled under his breath as he and I waited for Blaze’s response.Go Marley, go!I chant in my head.
“Marley, you know that’s not how this works. In the club—” Blaze holds his hands out in front of him like he has no choice.
“No, I’m not doing this for the club and that’s the end of this. If you want me, then you need to do it properly.” She hadn’t moved a muscle and looked like a goddess shining in the sun, putting him in his place.
“Can we talk about this later? Just the two of us?” Blaze had asked, looking back to where Jax and I sat at the far end of the picnic table. We both quickly turn our heads, looking at anything other than them. Acting as if we haven’t been staring at their interaction.
“You were the one who decided to have this conversation out in the open.” She stares at him and then huffs in frustration, sensing he needed to have this conversation in privacy.
“Sure, but you’re getting the same answer. I understand that some other women might be okay with that but I sure as hell am not. I get that this is for the club and means something to you, but I’m not in the club. I need you to think about that.” She takes a deep breath and lets her arms unfold and rest at her side. The two take a moment and stare at each other, not sure what to say next. Marley is tiny and looks as sweet as can be, but she is the most confident, self-assured person I know. Blazestands in front of her, towering over her with his insane height and muscles. The vein in his forehead is pulsing. These big badass bikers really do not know what to do with a strong-willed woman. But they sure need them to keep them in line.
At this point Jax and I have actually turned away, allowing them some privacy.
“I love you, Max, but this isn’t something I’m going to budge on.” The silence is deafening as Jax starts to chat about the weather. I wave my hand at him to get him to stop.
“We shouldn’t be listening to this.” Jax says in a whisper to me.
“Yeah, well she’s my best friend, and she’s right.” I stick my tongue out at him like an annoying child. He rolls his eyes at me and walks away.
“Fucking chicks, man.” Jax scoffs as he heads over to his bike.
“I’m telling Sierra you said that!” I shout as he walks away. But Marley had to do this, she’d been open with him about this and he had to understand where she was coming from.
The next day, Blaze had called me to set up a surprise proposal at a sweet old gazebo. Very swoon worthy. Guess Marley had gotten through to him.
Melting deeper into the couch, I take a sip of my tea and flip on the TV. Some may choose to go out on a perfectly good Friday night, but me? I will be enjoying extremely dramatic reality television shows.
Beep, Beep, Beep… Beep, Beep, Beep.
My alarm sounds from the other side of the room. I instinctively stick my arm out from under the covers and start to slam my palm against the nightstand, trying to turn the incessant noise off. After what feels like an eternity, I remember my phone is no longer next to my bed. I’ve started keeping it on the dresser across the room because it’s too easy to turn off and roll back over when it’s right next to me. Groaning, I slither out of the covers and practically crawl across the cold floor, clawing my way up the dresser and smacking the off button. The deafening beeping noise ceases as I squint at the alarm clock: 7:30 a.m. Perfect—just enough time to start coffee and take a quick shower.
Slowly making my way to the coffee machine, I hear a knock on the front door. Who’s showing up this early? Moving over to peek through the peephole, I see the handle jiggle. What the hell?
I steady myself and take a calming breath. Over the last twelve weeks, I’ve been learning self-defense and even started beginner MMA classes. I don’t know much yet, but I can put someone on their ass if they try anything funny. The handle jiggles again, followed by a familiar voice: “Jenna! Let me in. I’m going to pee my pants!”
