There is shit here I need to take care of.
Business information she doesn’t need to see. “Okay, be safe.”
She heads for the door, but then pauses. “Hey, Nitro?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad we talked. And I’m glad you’re… you. All of you. Even the scary biker parts.”
Something warm spreads through my chest. “I’m glad you’re you too. Even the parts scared of bikers.”
She laughs, and it’s the best sound I’ve heard all day. She gently closes the door behind her, and after she leaves, I stand in the empty apartment, imagining what it’ll look like when she’s done—color on the walls, a few pictures, maybe even some throw pillows.
But I know the club will be wondering what the hell happened and why I left in a hurry, so I pull out my cell and text Sin.
Me:Crisis averted. She’s moving into the apartment.
Sin:Jesus… you work fast.
Me:It’s not like that. She needs a place. I have a place.
Sin:Sure. Keep telling yourself that, brother.
I look around once more. It’s been an apartment where I’m Damon Blackwell, where I handle the business side.
Always temporary.
But now it’s going to be Marley’s.
And when she’s done, I won’t recognize it.
I won’t want to.
Because Marley’s presence will blur the lines between the biker and the billionaire, and she’s seen both sides, even if she doesn’t fully know it. But better than that, instead of running, she’s choosing to stay.
I grab what I need from the office space in the apartment, then leave and head to my bike, the sun setting over Vegas like a glorious artwork I can’t even describe.
Yeah, I’m definitely visiting Marley to ‘check on her progress.’
A lot.
Maybe every day.
And I’m not even going to pretend it’s about the apartment.
Chapter Eleven
MARLEY
Five Days Later
The apartment smells like fresh paint and the possibility of a new, exciting life.
Or maybe that’s just my wishful thinking!
I step back from the accent wall I’ve just finished, a deep teal that makes the whole living room feel alive, and wipe my forehead with the back of my hand, probably smearing paint across my face in the process. My phone buzzes on the kitchen counter, and I grab it with my clean hand.
Nitro the Nice Uber Guy:How’s the progress, Small Town? Need me to bring lunch?
