Sol’s shaking his head before I’ve finished speaking. “I’m not going to do that.”
“Because of me?”
He looks away, confirmation written all over his face, and I hate how it makes me feel.
Guilty.
Dirty.
Broken.
“Sol, I can handle a few bikers hanging around. It’s not like I never see them.”
“It’d be different if they came to make a point. They’d be everywhere for however long it took andIcan’t live with that when it’s for something so stupid.”
“Why not? You still have feelings for Cam O’Brian?”
Sol snorts. “I never had feelings for Cam O’Brian. We banged when we were young and dumb. Why does everyone keep bringing it up?”
“Who else brought it up?”
Not Jack.
Sol folds his lips together, as if whoever’s name is on them will get him in a whole heap of trouble.
Mal, then.
Annoyance simmers through me, and not all of it tied to this dead-end conversation. A growly sigh escapes me and I shake my head. “Whatever. Just promise me you won’t get fucked-up again on my account, okay? It doesn’t bother me to have the MC in town. Wherever my head’s at isn’t their fault, and you matter more to me than any of that anyway.”
So much truth. And yet I’m lying, and we both know it, even if Sol has no clue what fuels it. Even if he’ll never fucking know?—
Movement by the utility room door saves me from wherever that thought was heading. Theopendoor. I turn, skin tingling as Mal appears, his poker face on point, as if he didn’t hear every word, when my heart already knows he did.
I wait for horror to slither down my spine. For the thrill of his mere presence to become a creeping sensation that sends me back to the gym or worse. But whatever Mal’s heard, his eyes are green and clear, and even in the yellow light of the cellar he’s more gorgeous than I remember.
And I remembereverything.How he felt in my arms, his bigger frame anchoring me to my bed, his soft hair slipping through my fingers. His scruffy jaw scratching mine, his rough hands on my bare skin.
His cedar-wood scent that seems to permeate every room upstairs even though he’s rarely present to do more than shower and nap on the couch.
He draws closer, shooting Sol’s bounty a droll glance, his gaze skating over me as I lean harder in the doorway, as if this isn’t the first time we’ve locked eyes since I booted him from my room. Since heleftwithout looking back and I’ve never felt regret like it.
I want him.
And just like that, the shitty disquiet I’m expecting is obliterated by how good it feels just to see Mal’s face. To see that smirk lurking behind his Gallagher-green stare, his skin tanned deeper from the days he’s spent on Sol’s boat, and climbing all over the pub, fixing everything the rest of us haven’t got round to.
The roof.
The wall.
The dodgy electrics down here that trip the washing machine.
Mal reaches my side.
I have sweat on my skin.
He snakes his tongue over his bottom lip and my blood cranks to a higher point on the mercury,rememberinghow that lip felt between my teeth. Forgetting everything else.
ForgettingSol, until he clears his throat, a glimmer of…something in his eyes, as though he’s not sure what he’s just seen.
