I shiver and look up. I suck in a breath when I make eye contact with the man. He stands over a foot taller than me, covered in tattoos. His eyes are a dark brown you can get lost in. He holds himself with confidence and shows off his muscles.
All I can think about while serving his drink is how much I want to rip those clothes off and see what’s underneath. I stop my movement as my thoughts register. I can’t be having these thoughts about this man. Who would want someone who is damaged, scarred, and ugly like me? I don’t want to get involved with another guy and have him turn out to be another Jared. I take another deep breath and start to pour his drink.
When I look back up at him, I find him already staring at me. How can a man be so attractive? The way his short hair frames his face, his eyes piercing into my body as he stares at me, gives me tingles in places I thought were long since dead. I move as I feel myself getting hot and bothered, thinking all these dirty thoughts about him. am I going to survive the night with him staring at me with those hooded eyes?
I hand him his drink and try to keep myself busy. I’m not successful as I feel his eyes on me everywhere I go. His stare feels different than everyone else’s. Maybe it feels different because I know he has eyes full of hunger, and none of the other bikerslook at me that way. It throws me off balance, and I don’t know how to act.
When I look at the clock, I realize that I only have thirty minutes before my shift is over. I can’t wait to get off my feet, which are killing me. I also can’t wait until I get away from this guy’s stare. I don’t want to have dirty thoughts about him because once he finds out about my past, he won’t want anything to do with me.
Sleep is my top priority right now, and having him glare at me makes me want to go up to him and kiss him. I love working the extra hours to make more money, but it is starting to take a toll on my body. Since I don’t have to come in on Sunday, I am just going to catch up on some much-needed rest. Sadly, today is Friday, which means I have to wait a whole day until I am able to relax and sleep.
I take a couple of seconds and stand on one foot to alleviate some of the pressure off the other, then I do the same thing for my other foot. The whole time, I feel the guy’s mysterious stare on me.
I start cleaning some counters and putting cups away, even though I don’t have to do all of this because Whiskey, the other bartender and owner, will be taking over. I feel bad leaving everything for him to do. Whiskey will have his hands full with all these drunk bikers, but I know he can handle it all. He did before I came and started working here.
“You get home safe and get some sleep. You have a busy day tomorrow in the garage,” Whiskey says.
I nod and make my way to the back, collecting my jacket. Despite it being summer, the nights here can get pretty chilly, and I don’t want to freeze on my way back to the motel. I make my way out the back of the club. I don’t want any of the guys to bump into me or try to talk to me. Earlier in the week, one of the guys touched me, and my skin crawled as I froze in fear. Istopped breathing and just stood there waiting for something to happen. The biker had panicked and touched me again to get my attention. Gears saw everything and told the guy to back off. He then let me have some time to myself to calm down.
On my first night, I made the mistake of walking out of front of the bar. One of the bikers stopped me and started to rant about something. He was so drunk, but he knew that I was the barmaid at the bar who everyone talked to, even if I didn’t pay attention to what they said.
I slip out the back door and walk to the front of the house. The motel I am staying at is pretty close to the club. No one knows that I am staying there because, by the time I get off work, they are all drunk out of their minds.
Arms wrap around my waist, bringing me out of my thoughts. I freeze as my body goes rigid. It could be one of the drunk bikers, and I can’t speak to get anyone’s attention. My breathing starts to pick up as the person holds me close to them.
“Where do you think you’re going this late at night?” a deep, husky voice whispers in my ear.
I turn around, panicked, only to be met with those brown eyes I felt on me all night. I don’t know what to do because I can’t speak. I point toward town, hoping he will understand that I am leaving.
“Cat got your tongue?” he asks.
Shaking my head and looking around, I try to find someone who knows I am mute. I see Gunner walking toward us, and I let out a sigh that causes the mystery guy to turn around and look to see who is coming.
“Hey, Pres. I was just asking this lady where she is going this late at night,” the guy says. “No lady should walk this late at night. Something bad might happen.”
“Bear, she won’t be able to reply to you. She is mute,” he offers.
Looking at me with wide eyes, Bear’s gaze lingers on me as I shrink back, not liking the way he is looking at me. His expression is different than earlier in the night. His stare now is one of shock, and almost as if he is trying to figure me out. As if he can see through me and notices all the scars. I move out of Bear’s arms and take a step away from him, wrapping my arms around my body.
“You can go home now. Be safe.” Pres smiles and gives me a small wave.
I nod and turn, still feeling Bear’s eyes on me when I take the first couple of steps. I wonder if he is going to follow me.
“I’ll go with you to make sure you get home safe,” Bear offers, stopping me in my tracks.
3
BROOKE
Stopping, I look at him with wide eyes. None of the guys has said they wanted to walk me home, and I am grateful for that. I don’t want them to know that I am still staying at the motel. They probably already know that I am, but I still don’t like them following me. If Bear walks me to my door, he’ll learn which room I’m staying in. What if he tells the others? Some may be looking out for me, but who’s to say that the others don’t hate me being there?
I look over at Pres and shake my head, not wanting Bear to come along with me.
“That’s a good idea. I have been meaning for someone to walk with you since you leave so late. I don’t want anything to happen to you,” Pres says.
My shoulders sag, and I turn around, walking toward town. I hear them talk, and then footsteps follow me. Bear eventually starts walking beside me. I try not to look at him, but the temptation is too great, so I do. He is already staring at me, and I quickly look away, feeling my cheeks heat.
Why am I acting like a teenage girl? I am twenty-three years old. I shouldn’t be blushing from getting caught looking at him.Plus, he was the one staring at me, so there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.
