“Okay. Anything else I missed?”
“No, that about covers it.”
“Is Arty talking about what happened to him yet?”
“No. Stubborn ass.”
“Well, when this is done, I’m down to ride if someone needs to know they can’t put their hands on him.”
“Think your ass is gonna need a break after this,” Huck said. “Now, go check on your woman.”
It was the second time I deliberately chose not to correct someone when they made that comment.
Because, fuck, I think she was.
Mine.
I hadn’t been expecting that.
I figured I had another few years of partying at the club before I even thought about settling down.
After a lifetime of responsibility, I thought I wanted fun and maybe a little adventure.
Somehow, though, since Noa came into the picture, everything around me dulled. She was the focal point. She was the only thing I wanted.
Crazy?
Probably.
But it wasn’t like that shit was new around this club. It seemed like every season, some woman was coming out of nowhere and knocking one of the club members on their ass.
Maybe it was just my turn.
“What are you doing?” I grumbled when Dixon grabbed the back of the chair and started pushing.
“Keeping you off your feet.”
“I don’t need to be pushed.”
“Shut up,” Dixon demanded, the eye roll clear in his voice. “Knock, knock. Everyone decent?” he called before reaching for the doorknob of the exam room.
“Come on in,” Ama called.
Noa was still on the bed, but her arm was cleaned of blood, and there was a bandage attached to her shoulder.
“How was it?” I asked.
“I’ve seen worse. If it’s kept clean, she should be healed up in a few weeks.”
“And her ankle?”
“Her ankle is going to need a scan. I’m just finishing up on these feet. Then I will get her into the X-ray machine. The swelling is dramatic, but there’s still a chance it’s not broken.”
“It better not be,” Noa grumbled.
“How you feeling?”
She exhaled hard.
