Abbie glances at me, her brow wrinkling as she reads my expression. “I guess we made enough for three.”
I shrug, because while Pitt left after his comment about Ark, he hasn’t exactly been a stranger. He drops by at least twice a day, either ‘checking in’ as he puts it, or dropping off random things, like strawberries he saw at a street market, or a carton of OJ to replace the one he drained the last time he was here. “I just think we should talk,” I tell her with a feeble shrug. “I can’t ignore them forever.”
By ‘them’ I obviously mean the club, which is usually a taboo subject in the apartment. But I guess that’s a hard rule to enforce when the club’s literalenforceris standing on the doorstep with a bottle of wine and a bakery box in his hands.
Abbie cocks a brow at him, a glint of challenge in her eyes, and Pitt runs his gaze over both of us, intense in a way that makes my blood hum. I’ve had a couple of days to mull it over, and I just have to accept that shit has changed. I always felt like he had my back, and I preferred to ride with him over most of the other members of the club. He’s quieter than me, and way more dominant, but he has a funny side, too. Cynical, but amused bythe little things, and he’s kickass at crosswords, which helps pass the time on the road. It was easy sharing a motel room with him on rides, so my brain isn’t fighting his near-constant presence in the apartment. If I’m being honest, it feels good to have him here, especially given the way he watches Abbie with the same fascination I feel whenever she’s close. I might not want to sink to my knees and take his cock, but the thought of the three of us tumbling onto the sofa in a haze of lust makes my skin tighten in anticipation.
Just dinner, I remind myself, even as my cock stirs in my jeans.
“Did you go home or are you sleeping in the hallway now?” Abbie asks as Pitt sets the bakery box on the counter and hands her the bottle of wine.
“I’ve stuck around,” he says, heading into the kitchen for a corkscrew. “But if I’m getting under your feet, I can make myself scarce for a few days.”
Abbie takes the corkscrew off him and opens the bottle with a practiced flourish. “They’re not missing you at the club?”
“I told Ark that Wings has a virus and I’m lying low in case I’m contagious.”
I already gave Abbie our cover story, but she just holds his gaze. “He's going to get suspicious soon, though. What then?”
“We talk to him.” Pitt waits until we’ve sunk into our seats before he takes his. “All three of us, if you’ll agree to that.”
Abbie calmly serves us, but I know her well enough to read the signs of strain. “And say what?”
“You're both legacies. The Iron Flyers is yours as much as anyone's.”
“Assuming we're claimed. Ark can say different, but until it’s voted in at church, the rule still applies. Unclaimed omegas don’t have a place in the Iron Flyers.” The bitter truth settles between us and the meatball in my mouth suddenly tastes like ash. Abbiecatches my gaze, a shimmer of regret in her eyes. “It shouldn’t be like that, sweetheart, but until an alpha bites us, we’re worthless to the club.”
Pitt growls, a sound I don’t think I’ve ever heard come from his throat, and as my head whips around, he sits back in his chair and sighs. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to react like that. But you shouldn't have to choose between the club and your pack.”
Abbie stares at him. “We don’t have a pack. That's the point.”
But I get where he’s coming from. We might not be a conventional match, but Abbie’s my whole world, and Pitt knows it. I put down my fork and reach over to twine our fingers together. “Don’t we, butterfly? Because you feel like my mate, even if we don’t have the bites to prove it.”
The tension melts from her shoulders and she smiles at me, her scent curling around me like a caress. “You’re right. You’re all I've ever wanted or needed.”
I lean over to kiss her, and Pitt waits until we’ve broken apart before he leans forward, his elbows on the table and his wineglass raised in a toast. “Then that's what we tell the club and if they don’t want to hear it, we’ll keep saying it until they fucking listen.”
Chapter Four: ABBIE
“Is that what you want to do?” I ask Wings after Pitt has left, and we’re finishing the bottle of wine in my claw-footed tub. The apartment is pretty basic, but bathtubs are the next best investment to bikes in my world, and I blew a whole month’s salary on the restored, antique tub. I’m also partial to bubble bath and candles, so Wings and I make use of it whenever we can. “Tell the club about everything? Your designation? Us?”
We’re sitting at either end of the tub, and he’s in the process of soaping my foot, drawing groans out of me every time his thumbs find a sensitive spot.
“I can’t cut myself off,” he says quietly, “even if they’re gonna be weird about my designation. My family...”
“I know.” I gulp the wine down, wishing there was another bottle I could dive straight into. For a rough-around-the-edges biker, Pitt makes a pretty good dinner guest, even if his alpha musk has taken up permanent residence in my apartment. “I don’t want that for you, Wings.”
He still has his folks and younger sister in the club, so expecting him to simply walk away would be the same as asking him to slice his heart in two.
“There are good people there,” he tells me, “but they're not worth you getting hurt.”
“Or you. I don't want this to backfire on either of us.”
He nods, the sheen of bubbles on his chest making his skin glow. He’s so damn beautiful, I want to crawl into his lap and never leave, but he places a kiss on my ankle and sits up straight. “You want to go on a date tomorrow night?”
I perk up, too, the thought of getting out of the apartment really appealing. “Yeah, I’d love that. What are you thinking?”
“A long, fast ride.” He smirks, since that’s always part of the plan, rain, hail, or shine. “A quiet bar, maybe with a few dim corners and a bartender who doesn’t look too hard.” He slides forward, his smile growing as I hum in appreciation. “Moonlight spilling over hotel sheets, and a bathtub big enough to swallow us whole.”
