Julian:So am I. Sweet dreams, when you finally get to them.
Vivienne:Goodnight, babe ??
I stared at that word on my screen for a long moment. Babe. I don’t think I’ve ever truly been someone's boyfriend. Usually, my relationships were more… transactional. Mutually beneficial arrangements that served both parties' needs without getting messy with emotions or expectations.
But Vivienne wasn't interested in what I could do for her career or her social status. She had her own life, her own passions, her own purpose. She'd made it clear that morning that she wouldn't be available whenever I had a free moment, and somehow that made me want to spend even more time with her.
Sunday couldn't come fast enough, and not just because it brought me closer to Monday evening. I needed the weekly ride with my brothers, needed their grounding presence to help me process what was happening in my carefully controlled life.
I could probably even use some advice.
Sunday morning dawned clear and cool, perfect riding weather. My Sundays were usually kept free just for this.
I arrived at our agreed meeting spot fifteen minutes early, unusual for me, and found myself checking my phone for messages from Vivienne even though she was probably still asleep.
Archer pulled up first on his black Ducati, followed closely by Diesel on his custom chopper. Kane arrived next, looking more relaxed than I'd seen him in months, and finally Hawk roared in, completing our group.
"Look who's early," Diesel called out, pulling off his helmet to reveal his trademark grin. "Usually we're waiting on your royal highness to finish whatever fashion emergency requires your immediate attention."
"No emergencies today," I said, checking my gear one final time.
"Because you cleared your schedule for the weekend?" Kane asked, something knowing in his tone. "Word is you've been… distracted lately."
I shot him a sharp look. "Word from who?"
"I tried to get a hold of you last week and Roy mentioned you rescheduled three meetings and a photoshoot for some mysterious personal project." Archer said, his own expression curious.
"Seems like some lady may have caught his interest," joked Diesel.
"She must be a hell of a woman," Hawk added with a smirk.
I felt heat rise in my neck. These men, the closest thing I had to brothers, had always been observant, a survival skill from our military days, but their focus on my personal life was uncomfortable.
"Can we just ride?" I asked, mounting my bike.
"Oh, we're definitely riding," Diesel said, his grin widening. "But we're also talking. That's what these Sunday rides are for, brother. Checking in, making sure nobody's losing their shit in civilian life."
We pulled out onto the highway, Archer leading the group through the winding roads that led into the mountains outside the city. The familiar rumble of engines and rush of wind usually cleared my head, but today my thoughts kept drifting to Vivienne. Tomorrow evening, she'd be on this bike with me, her arms around my waist, trusting me to keep her safe.
The thought was both thrilling and terrifying.
We'd been riding for about an hour when Archer signaled for a stop at one of our usual overlooks, a scenic pullout that offered views of the city sprawling below. It was here, away from traffic and distractions, that we usually did our real talking.
"Alright, Viper," Diesel said as we gathered around the stone barrier that marked the edge of the overlook. "Spill it. You've been riding like a man with something on his mind."
I pulled off my helmet, running a hand through my hair. "It's complicated."
"The best things usually are," Kane said quietly. The distant tone in his voice made me think there was more to that statement—someone, perhaps. He’d been quieter lately, more distracted. Maybe complications had a name, and he just wasn’t ready to say it out loud.
"There is someone," I admitted, leaning against my bike. "Someone… different."
"Different how?" Archer asked, and I could hear genuine interest in his voice. Since Morgan had entered Archer's life, he'd become a fierce advocate for the transformative power of the right woman.
"She's not part of my world," I said carefully. "She's a teacher. High school history. She's smart, passionate about her work, and completely independent. She doesn't want anything from me except… me."
The silence that followed wasn't awkward, it was thoughtful, contemplative. We’d been through hell together, and had saved each other's lives more than once. They understood better than anyone the value of finding someone who saw past the surface.
"And that scares the shit out of you," Hawk observed.
