Cursing, I reminded myself just how bad of an influence my brain was. I was a father to a man who barely came by, and barely spoke to me, and his mother was even worse. She called too much, and definitely wasn’t the one I wanted to deal with. The only other woman I had let into my heart had fucked me over and taken off with more than my life savings.
Rowan was different. I could sense her heart. There was a darkness underneath all of that, festering away behind her insecurities. I wanted to break them apart, make her see what a badass she could be. I wanted her to be free of that shit in her head, and just be…Rowan. But, that wasn’t my place.
Wiping my release off my chest with my shirt I’d left on the bed, I picked up my phone and shot off a text to my tech brother.
We need to find Trey immediately.
TROJAN
On it. I’ll step up my searches.
Good. Now, I just needed to avoid Rowan at all costs.
Rowan
Cherry took me through the entire set up behind the bar, warned me about the bikers to steer clear of, and the ones who were harmless. Most were, but there were a few that let the alcohol get to them, and they turned into self-righteous asshats.
But, there was Pope, who didn’t drink. Cherry explained that he was the club chaplain, and go to if you needed to talk. I liked that.
I wasn’t nervous. I knew how to tend bar, I knew how to handle asshole drunks, and I knew how to sweet talk my way out of creeps arms.
What I didn’t know how to do was ignore my childhood bullies–yes, bullies, plural. Tee Thompson and Tori Lee. Both of them were club girls, and they both hadn’t stopped staring at me, and talking under their breaths to the other club girls. It had me on edge.
But it wasn’t only them.
It was him.
Wyatt.
I had come downstairs early, not only to get an early start, but to avoid an awkward run in with him. He’d seen my reaction to Tee, and done nothing. Not that I expected him to know my history with her, but he could have at least asked me if I was okay.
Why did I even care?
“You okay, doll?” one of the bikers asked me as he came over. I checked his kutte to see the name “Maverick” over his left pec.
“Yeah, you need a drink?” I ask him, pasting a smile on my face.
“You don’t gotta fake a smile here. You can call us out on our bullshit if you need to. Most the girls do anyway.”
I liked this guy.
“Not many can figure out when I am faking it.”
“Because you’re so good at it?” he replied, with a deadly smirk. I could tell he was popular with the women. He was gorgeous, that was no doubt, but he wasn’t my type. If I even had a type at all, that was.
“You got it.”
“Maybe you need an older guy to show you what you’re missing.”
He didn’t give off creepy vibes, in fact, it was more of a piece of advice, than anything. I think I was going to like Maverick.
Movement to the right of me caught my attention and I turned to see Wyatt enter the room. Heat flooded between my thighs, and I fought to look away before he saw me.
Too late.
Fuck.
I turned back to Maverick, who seemed to have caught the awkwardness between us, and a slow smirk made its way onto his face. “Or maybe you’ve found one already.”
