“Don’t do that,” I said softly, reaching up to smooth his short hair back, probably trying to be soothing, but who the hell knows if it was anything like that.
“Do what?” Rocket asked, his eyes a little wide as I pulled my hand back. Why did I do that? The moment was clearly over, and I was still putting my hands on him.
I sighed, settling both hands in my lap, so I’d stop touching him.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed or something. You don’t have to try and hide the fact that you feel things. I like that you feel them, and I think it’s stronger to do that.”
Rocket shoved up from the floor, and reached down to offer me a hand, hauling me up in one swift, and sexily strong move.
“Haven’t you heard Harley and the others? I don’t have feelings. I’m just some emotionless cunt.”
I flinched, and glared at him. “Stop saying that word.”
“Which word?” He asked with a grin, clearly trying to bait me. The closeness of the earlier moments felt lost already, as he slipped easily back behind his walls and back into dickish behaviour. Maybe he was too comfortable acting like that to ever change.
“Forget it.” I turned and grabbed my jacket, planning to get home before I made a bigger fool of myself. What did I think I was doing here? I came here to what? Offer him support? Get support for myself after the things I’d witnessed, and the things I’d imagined? Was I looking for more? What was my fucking deal?
Chapter Thirteen
Fuck me, it’s soeasy to piss this woman off, and yet somehow I don’t hate it. I’m actually enjoying the fucking traps I fall into, because she’s fucking hot when she’s pissed. That fire lights her up from within, and I can practically feel the heat.
“Wind it in, woman. You’re not going anywhere this late at night.”
She froze, spinning on her heel to, yep, glare at me. Fuck yeah.
“You’re not the-”
“-boss of you, yeah yeah, yada yada. Sit your pert butt down with Nixie, and I’ll go get us a beer or something.”
The glare intensified, but she fucking sat down as demanded.
“You don’t even have a bathroom, Rocket,” she said quietly, glancing around the shitty room. Yeah, it was an embarrassment really. The old clubhouse had little suites with tiny bathrooms, so at least it was like a home. Some even had proper kitchens in them. I didn’t use one of those, but we had Tommy. That kid was an incredible cook, and I really missed his dinners.
“There’s one down the hall, babe. It’s shared, but it’s there. I’ll show you.”
I glanced around then, noticing that she’d refreshed all Nixie’s little pee pad things. She really was a fucking hell of a woman.
“Thanks for all this,” I gestured to the floor and she shrugged.
“Smelled like piss in here.”
I couldn’t help grinning, because she never fucking held back, and I was starting to love that about her.
“Whoa, I couldn’t help it. I got caught short.”
She looked horrified for a split second before she realised I was joking. Thank fuck. Suddenly I was really scared she’d think I’m the kind of guy to piss on my own floor. It mattered to me what she thought of me. She could be the friend I’ve been waiting for. Or maybe she could be more. I just had to convince her, I guess. Take a chance on this loser, and what? I had nothing to offer. Well, except maybe to be fucking trustworthy if nothing else.
“You hungry? I could go out and get us something. We don’t have a kitchen. Oh wait. I could send a prospect. That’s what they’re for.”
V shook her head. “Poor guys, not that the one on the gate seemed all that smart. He looked at my car like it was a fucking spaceship.”
I dug in my pocket for my phone, and pulled up the prospect channel. It was a group chat everyone was in, so we could post requests, aka demands, in there.
“You came to our little MC in a fucking cage, woman. No wonder he was shocked.”
I ignored her grumbles as I started typing a message.
“What do you fancy? Indian? A nice curry?”
