Page 101 of Goose

I laughed. “It’s what I am.”

He scowled. “You’re more than that to me.”

I was elated that he felt I was more than a convenient piece of ass. I liked thinking I was more than that, but he’d said nothing to lead me to believe otherwise. In the absence of that declaration, I was left to make my own decisions about what it was that we had.

I didn’t like making assumptions, so I was forced to look at what we had on the surface. The obvious. We enjoyed each other’s company. We had sex. We slept in the same bed. That, pretty much, was the sum of it all.

I realized I’d picked the crust from the uneaten portion of my sandwich and had piled it on the edge of the plate. I covered the crumbs with the sandwich and pushed the plate aside. “I guess you need to tell me what this is, then. I must have missed the memo.”

“There’s a rule, of sorts, with bikers. If a man makes it known that he’s in a relationship with a woman, the other bikers respect that relationship, and they respect her. If you and I are in a relationship, Cash will respect that, and this bullshit will stop. I want to be in a relationship. I want to give this a label.”

More of what he didn’t want to hear came spewing from my mouth. “I don’t want to be in a relationship with you to get the bullshit to stop. I want to be in a relationship with you because it’s what—”

He shook his head adamantly. “That’s not why I’m doing this.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I think I love you,” he blurted.

My jaw hit the floor. It was exactly what I wanted, but not at all what I expected. Not at that moment, anyway. I pressed the heel of my palm against my overactive heart.

“What’s it…what’s it going to take…for you to know?” I asked.

“Repercussion.”

My brow wrinkled. “Repercussion?”

He laughed. “Sorry. I’m…I’m a little bit nervous,” he stammered. “Not repercussion. Reciprocation. Acknowledgement, or whatever.”

I smiled. “I think I love you, too.”