“It’s a nasty side effect from the drug.” He picks up a sugar packet.
I shake my head. “Plain coffee is my go-to.” I do love it without anything added, Lydia always calls me crazy weird fordrinking it that way, but it’s an unpopular personal preference I suppose.
Lydia… I need to check on her.
Hush doesn’t add anything to his either and we both stand in comfortable silence before he asks, “Did you sleep okay?”
“Woke up at three am. Worst hangover ever. But honestly over the last few months, my sleep has been a pile of shit.” I don’t need to explain why because his knowing glance tells me he knows. I take another sip then ask, “What about you? You seem to be an early riser.”
His gaze drops to his cup. “I don’t sleep well either.” Taking his focus back over me, goosebumps rise on my arms. For eyes so dark, they hold so much emotion.
He glances outside, the morning sun peering in through the windows. “How did you get here?”
“I took the first scheduled bus.” I sucked up my loathing for public transportation. However, the pepper spray was tightly held in my grip the whole time. Living in fear is something I’m getting used to.
His eyes darken. “Danika, anytime you want to come to the gym, I’ll pick you up.”
My heart quickens at his offer. “I can’t ask you to do that. I don’t like being a burden.”
“You didn’t ask me. I’m offering.” He shakes his head. “Fuck that, I’m not offering. I’m telling you to call me.”
My heart jumps from the boldness. The dominating command. “And freeze to death on your motorcycle? No thanks,” I joke, adding a smirk, but my heart still beats uncontrollably.
A subtleness of amusement passes over him before it quickly vanishes. “The guys let me borrow their rides.”
Do I have any plans to ask him for one? Not really. But… “Give me your phone.”
With a harsh swallow, he takes out his cell from his jeans pocket, handing it over. Our fingers lightly brush, sending a bolt of electricity through me. I pretend to ignore the powerful feeling and type my number in, handing it back.
“There. Now you’ll always have it. And if you want me to have yours, I’ll expect a text from you because how will I ever ask for that ride?” I smile. “You’ve saved me multiple times now, so I assume we’re friends at this point.” I hold my breath waiting for a reply.
“Danika…”
I can’t help it, my eyes flutter closed at his feathering tone, but I hurry and open them before it seems weird. “What? You don’t have room for another friend?”
His gaze darts away from mine. “I don’t really have friends.”
Confusion strikes me. “You have your whole club.” I don’t know the details of being part of an MC but there’s no denying the closeness that radiates off every one of them when they are together.
“They’re my brothers. It’s… different.”
I’m not entirely sure what he means, but a beep sounds.
I glance outside and Tequila waves to me from the driver side of her car. “I should go. I told Tequila I’d meet her for breakfast. And before you ask, no, I don’t need a ride. She’s right outside.” I smirk with a wink, both of us sharing a look of surprise. It’s a friendly, innocent move but a flirty one, nonetheless. The shock alone is because I haven’t beencutesyin so long.
I used to flirt and was good at it. I loved being playful, fun, and confident. It gave me a sense of power. Like, I was the one in charge. But the thought of being that way now, that silly confident me I once knew, sends an uneasy feeling inside.
“Good.” He holds my stare captive and my body warms.
“Thanks for the coffee.” My hand reaches for his arm, softly touching the firmness of his muscles. Even under his thick sweatshirt I could feel them. There’s no obvious repulsion in his reaction this time. Still, I don’t keep my hand there long, not wanting to overstep the welcome.
But as I leave the shop, without even a glance back, I can feel his eyes on me.
On the drive to the café, Tequila made me spill what happened last night. Showing my vulnerable side is difficult, but with her, I don’t find it weird or awkward. It’s comforting being able to lean on someone.
A friend.
Speaking of, I do shoot Lydia a text checking in and immediate relief floods over me when she tells me she’s okay. Only left with a serious head drumming like me. She promises to be done with clubs and bars, but we’ll see. Lydia, in ways, was the me before it all happened.
