Her gaze softens a millimeter. "Okay. I'll text you."
Her pager chirps, shrill, slicing the moment. She grimaces, stands, and tosses her trash. I stand with her, stealing one more fast kiss; the kind that tastes like a promise.
"You got this, nurse," I murmur against her mouth.
She nods, even though she doesn't look convinced. "See you later, vice."
I watch her go, ponytail swinging, shoulders straightening as she slips back into battle mode. The door swings shut with a soft click.
I stand there for a moment, then pick up the empty bag, toss it, and head out. I grab my helmet from behind the front desk, drop the badge, and walk into the lot. The elevator doors close behind me. My reflection stares back from the glass. I keep my face controlled. Calm. My hands are shaking.
Chapter 16
Sloane
Kylegetshispatchtonight. Last night's fight left the place buzzing, and the energy hasn't died down.
The whole day at the hospital dragged heavily. By the time my shift ends, my feet ache, my back hurts, and every nerve feels rubbed raw.
I still go to the clubhouse. I always do.
The sun is dipping low when I pull into the lot. Bikes shimmer under the streetlights, chrome catching fire. Laughter spills through the door. Music pours through the windows. Something savory drifts from the grill on a curl of smoke. The noise hits differently than anything from Chicago. Louder, rougher, and nobody's pretending.
Two years later, and part of me still expects someone to stop me at the door to ask my name.
I'm barely inside when Knox sees me. His eyes cut straight to me, sharp and hungry, and his whole body goes still. Locked on, focused, and dark around the edges.
Two steps in and his hand settles on my hip, warm and heavy, as though he has been counting the minutes.
"Baby," he murmurs, mouth brushing the shell of my ear. "There you are." His arm slides around my waist, tugging me flush against him. I feel his heartbeat under my palms where my hands brace automatically on his chest.
I melt before I can stop myself. "I was only gone twelve hours," I tease.
"Might as well have been twelve weeks." His voice drops. Rougher. "You have no idea how bad I wanted you today."
Heat rushes to my cheeks. "Knox…"
He presses closer. Probably subtle to everyone else, definitely not subtle to me. He's already hard against my hip.
"You do that on purpose," I whisper.
He smirks, the bastard. "That's me breathing, sweetheart."
I swat his chest lightly, which just makes him chuckle. He kisses me deeply, smug about how easily I soften for him. Someone whistles from the pool table.
"Save the honeymoon shit for your house," East calls.
Knox doesn't even look over. "Eat shit, East."
Malachi's voice follows. "Vice, get over here. You're stripes."
Knox groans but keeps me pinned for one more second. His fingers flex against my hip as though he's memorizing the shape of me all over again.
"Don't go far."
"I'm going to the bar. I'll be here."
His eyes drop to my mouth appreciatively. "Still too far." He lets go and heads for the pool table, though his attention stays locked on me the whole way.
