Ava nods. “I won’t.”
Ryker opens the gate, and I watch as it opens, clearing the way for us to drive through. Bikers pause as our car approaches. Some are working on motorcycles in the open bays of an enormous garage. Others stand around under an awning that’s been erected over a concrete slab that houses a collection of picnic tables and chairs. Beer bottles and ashtrays are spread over the surfaces.
It takes Ryker a few minutes to switch places with another prospect. We’re monitored the entire time. It’s not hostile, but I can tell our presence disrupts the normal flow. I’m sure that’s true. How often are a couple of high school girls showing up on a Friday afternoon?
When Ryker finally join us, he seems less tense, but still on edge. I don’t know him well enough to know for sure. I can ask Ava, but it’s not the right time. She keeps glancing at him until he reaches for her hand. She takes it, moving closer to his lanky frame.
My best friend is right. He’s definitely sexy. That bad boy look only bolsters his dark, attractive features. He’s got longish dark hair, thick and wavy, hazel eyes, a lean, muscular frame, and a smile that’s playful when it’s directed at Ava.
When we enter the clubhouse, it immediately opens into a bar. I assume it’s because most of the guys want to reach that location first. There are more bikers seated around it, facing a long mirror. Rows of liquor bottles on shelves reflect their surface along with most of the bar. Above the mirror is a sign that reads SUMMIT HILL VIPERS in neon.
I noticed the same sign above the door right before we entered, except it wasn’t neon. Someone had created it from stainless steel. Another larger, more detailed version also hung above the garage and read Blade Auto & Bike Repair. The club was certainly proud of its name.
“Come on,” Ryker urges as I tear my gaze away from the bar and look over the room, following him as he leads us to a barren hallway.
I don’t see Gage, but that doesn’t mean he’s not here. As we walk, I notice the hardwood floor, the gray walls, and the lower-watt lighting. It’s purposely sparse. The only decorations are framed photos of club members, motorcycles, and gatherings with large groups of bikers. They all wear leather vests.
My gaze catches on one of the photos, and I see Gage with a few of the members. His arm is around a girl wearing a short skirt and halter top. She’s got her palm on his chest, staring up at him like she can’t wait to rip his clothes off.
It’s ridiculous, but I feel jealous. Irritated. Almost betrayed.
This is none of my business. I turn away from the wall, taking several steps before I catch up to Ava and Ryker. The prospect lifts his knuckles to knock on the door when it opens.
I freeze when I see who exits into the hall, sucking in a breath of shock as my eyes lock with Gage. Right here. In the hallway.
He blinks and shuts the door behind him, recovering from what appears to be surprise. His gaze slowly drags over my body, taking me in from head to toe, greedily devouring me in a blatant perusal that touches every inch of my skin. I feel it like physicalfingertips. The touch is seductive, intentional, and steals my breath.
I almost start to pant as his gaze darkens. When he speaks, I almost have to clench my thighs together because the rumble resonates in my core. I suddenly remember everything that’s happened between us, focusing on the night when he had his head buried between my thighs.
He knows it. Gage can sense where my thoughts have detoured. He gives me his signature panty-melting grin, and the heat in his gaze tells me he hasn’t forgotten either.
“Letty.”
And then I remember his rejection. The rumors he didn’t try to stop. How his brothers tormented me because he left me alone without his protection. How his father yells and drinks too much, and I daily endure it alone because even my mother checks out, too gone in her own misery to be there for me.
I yank my gaze away and look at Ava, who links her arm through mine and drags me closer. My best friend lifts her chin at Gage and levels him with an impressive glare.
Gage frowns. “Why are you here?”
I don’t owe him an explanation, and Ava won’t give him one.
He turns to Ryker, clearly annoyed by the sudden clenching of his jaw. “Prospect?”
Ryker gives Ava an apologetic glance before answering Gage. “They said they need to see Storm.”
Gage whips his head toward me and takes a step in my direction. “What happened, Letty?”
I open my mouth to tell him since it’s inevitable, and I want him to know, but the door swings open.
An intimidating biker as tall as the door growls at us. “Get inside. Now.”
“Yes, Pres,” Ryker answers quickly.
Gage just nods, waiting for me, Ava, and Ryker to enter first. I feel him at my back as I enter, his body heat giving off simmering waves that somehow find their way to me. I almost start to sweat.
It’s when his hand makes the briefest contact, lightly touching my lower spine, that I jerk away. It’s instinct. Built from mistrust, betrayal, and anger because he doesn’t deserve to look at me the way he does, like he can’t wait to press his lips to mine.
“Letty,” he says, low enough that we’re the only two that hear.
