“I’m an asshole,” Saint said, shrugging. “I won’t hesitate to say shit to someone’s face. And I’m not gonna apologize for it. Even if she didn’t like it.”
“She’s not dumb.”
“In all fairness, I didn’tcallher dumb. I suggested she might be being dumb. There’s a difference. But you might have been too Hulked out to notice the difference. Never seen you angry like that before. Guess I see how you ended up in prison.”
“It doesn’t happen much.”
“No? Didn’t I hear a rumor in Shady Valley about you choking some fuck out?”
How the hell did he know that?
“There are specific circumstances that bring it out.”
“When someone threatens what’s yours. Or tries to take what’s yours.”
“That’s… an overly simplified way of putting it. But yeah.” I paused, exhaling hard. “But your little stunt had unexpected consequences. So I’m not gonna bash your face in for it. But don’t overstep like that again.”
“If it helps, that woman wants exactly what you do. She’s just too fucking repressed and scared to admit it. Maybe another gift basket would help,” he teased, shooting me a smirk as he walked off toward the doors as Syn and Dylan moved out of the elevator.
“Well, you don’t have flames in your eyes,” Dylan said, looking at me. “Good talk?”
“He got off with a warning.”
“I can handle him myself, you know,” Dylan said, inching a little closer when my hand went to the small of her back.
“I’ve seen it. But as much as it was about what he said to you, it was also about his lack of respect for me. He needed to be reminded it’s not his place to butt in on my life and my choices.”
“Is that what I am?” she asked, voice small, maybe even hopeful. “Your choice?”
There was something wide-eyed and hopeful on her face as I turned to look down at her.
I reached out, grabbing her chin in my hand.
“That’s exactly what you are,” I told her, fingers lingering for just a second.
“You guys can suck face later. We got a job to do,” Saint called, making Dylan roll her eyes but let out a little laugh.
“Ready?” I asked.
She gave me a nod.
Then, voice small, “Can I ride with you?”
I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear those words from her stubborn ass. But, fuck, did they make my heart squeeze.
“Fuck yeah, you can,” I said, trying to downplay just how big a moment this was.
Because I knew for a fact that, like me, she’d never ridden bitch before. It was a matter of pride to her. That she’d always been in control. It said something that she was trusting me to be.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked when we were both on the bike, the engine purring.
“For you to put your arms around me.”
“I can stay on without holding on,” she insisted.
Of course, she could. Her feet were on the passenger pegs. She could squeeze the tank with her thighs. She had the core strength to balance. And my bike had grab rails that removed the need to grab my vest or wrap her arms around me.
“Can sit here all night,” I said instead of arguing.
