I stand back and watch this woman I love being welcomed into my world, and I feel something I haven’t felt in years.
Complete.
Whole.
Home.
But also, so fucking terrified of losing it all.
I need to tell her.
Before someone else does.
Before Derek digs deeper and discovers the damn truth.
But not tonight.
Tonight is hers.
Tonight isours.
Tomorrow, I’ll figure out how to tell her, about Blackwell, about the job.
Tomorrow, I’ll face the consequences of my cowardice.
But tonight? Tonight I’m going to hold on tight and pretend that everything is perfect. That I’m not the asshole who’s been keeping this shit from the woman he loves.
And when she looks back at me, her eyes shining with joy, love, and promise, I know this, right here, right now, is exactly where I’m supposed to be.
With her.
Forever.
No matter what it costs me.
Chapter Twenty-Three
NITRO
Six Days Later
The clubhouse is alive with the familiar sounds of brotherhood, laughter, trash talk, the crack of pool balls, and the low rumble of bikes pulling into the lot. I lean against the bar, nursing a beer that’s gone lukewarm in my hand while I watch Will pace near the front window for the third time in five minutes.
“Brother, you’re gonna wear a hole in the floor,” I call out, my voice carrying that edge of amusement I can’t quite hide.
Will stops mid-stride, running a hand through his hair in that nervous way of his. The kid, and yeah, I know he’s twenty-one, but compared to my forty-three years, he’s still a kid, looks like he’s about to crawl out of his skin.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mutters, but his eyes drift back to the window anyway. Probably looking for Millie’s car, though he’d deny it even if I pressed.
“Sure, you don’t.” I take a swig of the beer, grimacing at the taste, definitely past its prime. “You’ve been checking that window every thirty seconds for the last hour. If you’re not waiting for someone, you’re the worst lookout I’ve ever seen.”
Deek snorts from his spot at the pool table, not bothering to look up from his shot. “He’s got a hard-on for Millie. Everyone knows it except apparently Millie.” The cue ball cracks against the striped nine, sending it spinning into the corner pocket. “And Will, apparently, since he still thinks he’s being subtle.”
“Shut the fuck up, Deek,” Will fires back, but there’s no venom in it. Just exhaustion. The kind that comes from wanting something,someoneyou think you can’t have.
I know that feeling better than most.
“Look,” I say, pushing off the bar and crossing to where Will’s standing. “You want my advice?”
