Rain
There’s a poundingin my head that won’t go away. Even after I brushed my teeth, I swear I can still taste the tequila on my tongue.
I shouldn’t have gone as hard as I did last night, but I let the anger win. I let my emotions dictate my actions, and now I’m here.
Sober me really fucking hates drunk me right now. I probably shouldn’t have downed those hard ciders at the end. That was probably my undoing.
Grabbing a mug, I make myself a cup of coffee before I sit down at the kitchen table. I tuck my legs under me as I stare out the window, my mind never really turning off, even through the pain. Exhaustion rolls through me, but I know if I went back to my room, I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep because last night keeps playing over and over in my mind.
My dreams were filled with reality mixed with a bit of fantasy. In some, I throttled Ridge, but others…
We won’t talk about what I did to him in that storage room.
I still can’t believe the truth of the night, though.
Ridge declared me his old lady in front of the entire club.
Me.
The woman who doesn’t like him most days. The woman he’s only married to on paper, but not in the biblical sense.
It doesn’t make sense.
Why?
Why would he make me the most important person in his life? You only get one old lady. There are some very specific instances when you might be granted a second, but I don’t plan to die and make him a widower at a young age, so that’s not going to happen.
He is so annoying. He didn’t even warn me. Why am I surprised, though? He didn’t warn me about the will or this marriage either. It seems to be his MO. Do whatever he can to fuck Rain over in a major way.
I swear, I hate the man.
Then my mind goes back to the way he backed me against the door, running his nose along my cheek. In that moment, I was…dare I say excited? Confused? As angry as I was, having him so close, being able to smell the aftershave on his skin—even now it sends goosebumps down my arms.
Still, he made decisions without consulting me. This might not be a real marriage, but I had thought we were slowly finding middle ground. A place we could call a truce.
I thought I was softening toward him, but nope. I hate him. In fact, there’s a knife right there. I could go into his room and…
“Morning,” he rasps, making me jump in my chair.
“I didn’t hear you,” I mutter, making him chuckle.
“You were a little lost in your thoughts. Everything okay?” he asks.
Ignoring his question, I watch him pour himself a cup of coffee. I look at him, really look at him for the first time in years. Ridge is attractive. He’s got brown hair that’s almost ashy, andgolden brown eyes that remind me of honey. His stomach is flat, and when he takes his shirt off, you can see the outline of his upper abs. Not buff by any means, just fit from working outdoors and riding all the time.
I’m sure some women would go gaga over him. They would love to spend the night in his bed. Hell, I used to want the same thing once before, when I was a teen, and the new boy my father brought around had me looking at him with stars in my eyes.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, voice full of concern as he sits down across from me.
“No, everything is not okay.”
His brow furrows. “You know you can talk to me, right?”
I laugh, but it doesn’t come out right.
“Can I? I mean, I guess I should be able to. I am your old lady after all.”
He sighs. “Are we arguing about this again? It’s done. There are no takebacks.”
