Now that smile threatened at the corner of my mouth. I couldn’t be doing this. Couldn’t be obsessing over her again. There was too much going on. I needed my head clear to protect this club. Protect my brothers. And she was throwing me a curveball.
Chairs scraped above me. The coalition meeting was over. The clubs would be leaving. And here she was, sticking out like a sore thumb. Too many questions.
“Shall we get a coffee?”
She watched me, her head slightly tipped to the side, those grey eyes probing. She’d noticed the sudden shift in my demeanour. The sudden change. Always watching. Just like the way she’d always been.
“Yes, please,” she answered in a whisper.
I stood, and she followed my lead, sliding out of the booth and standing beside me. I pointed to the door at the back, knowing there were only seconds to get her somewhere else. My hand pressed gently into the small of her back, fitting in that space too comfortably, and for a second my chest swelled. Sophie hadn’t missed the movement either, her gaze dropping, but she didn’t pull away and let me guide her through the pub and the door at the back.
Footsteps started on the stairs. Multiple. Heavy. And I could see the first set of legs through the spindles at the bottom of the staircase. Carefully, I pushed her into the kitchen, the heavy doors closing behind us. Outside, the floor vibrated like an army marching. Deep voices. Unintelligible conversation.
“Have I disturbed a party or something?” Sophie asked, her voice suddenly loud amongst the steel cabinets and bench tops.
“Just something.”
She stared at me then with those wide grey eyes. Eyes that pierced my soul, no matter how hard I tried to keep them out. She’d always had that effect on me, like she could see right through me and beyond.
“That’s a lot of something.”
“Meetings. Other bike clubs.”
“That’s why it’s so busy tonight? The car park…”
She cut herself off.
“Yeah. It’s a busy night tonight,” I answered, stepping around her. “Filter. Or do you want one of these pod things?”
I picked up a tiny plastic cup and waved it over my shoulder.
“One of those pod things would be great.” Her voice changed. Lightened.
If I turned around right now, she’d be smiling. Just a little. One side of her lips would be slightly curled. The grey in her eyes lifted. A small glow to her cheeks. I didn’t need to look at her to know. It was burnt into my mind.
“We’ve got latte, cappuccino, americano…” I sorted through the pile of pods loose in a box beside the machine, making a note to get the fucking prospects to sort this shit out so I could see what was here better.
“Latte, please, Ry.”
I paused, my hand just over the top of a pod with a purple lid. My jaw tightened, and I swallowed hard, something blocking my throat. The pod thudded as I dropped it into the machine, the sudden click as it got to work, deafening in a silence that had already stretched too long.
“Latte,” I repeated roughly, like the word meant more than the coffee.
For a while, neither of us spoke. The machine took up the silence as I watched the stream of thick, brown liquid fill the cup below it. Bitter coffee filled the air, sharp and warm. I focused on that instead.
“Thank you,” she answered softly when I passed the mug back to her, watching her press both palms around it tightly.
“Cold?”
“A little. This place isn’t very warm.”
She smiled. My heart beat harder.
“Takes a lot to heat. And Indie doesn’t like having to pay the bill.”
“Indie?”
“Yeah. He’s a tight fucker,” I deflected. We both knew it, but Sophie didn’t push.
