Page 27

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The first time Wren walked into the clubhouse, she looked like she was seconds away from running. Well, that was after it settled in her head where she really was.

The sight of so many people overwhelmed her. Or maybe it was the men hollering and staring at her with interest, their eyes flicking between us as they tried to discern what was going on. Her fingers had started to shake even as she gave a wry smile at the men who approached us. I took her hand and held it in mine, trying to calm her down before herding her out of the place so she could breathe properly.

Looking at her now as she sipped from the cup in her hand, it was hard to reconcile that woman with the one sitting there. She was now with Sloane behind the bar, watching her fix them a drink. Like I was being controlled, my legs moved on autopilot toward her until I sat on the stool in front of the bar watching.

Sloane was in the middle of a ridiculous tale about a bet she lost one time during game night and how she'd had to wear the same shirt for a week. She'd caved on the second day, unable to take it anymore, which tracked because Sloane was a clean freak.

Wren laughed at the story, her eyes twinkling with mirth. Then she shared a story of her own. Nothing too crazy like Sloane’s, but I found myself smiling.

Sloane glanced up and found me seated there, smiling. Her lips stretched on impulse as she looked between us.

“You know, Knox lost a bet like that once,” she said, catching Wren by surprise. She looked up and found me sitting there. Shyly, she raised her hand and waved at me.

I started to wave back before I caught myself, putting down my hand and nodding my head toward her instead.

“Tell me about it,” she said, looking at Sloane.

“It was years ago, but it was the only time we saw him crack character. Viper made him join the game. He never joins the game,” she said.

“Wait. Why?” Wren turned toward me, holding up her colorful drink. “Why don't you play?”

I shrugged. “I don't want to.”

She wrinkled her nose at me. “You're such a bore. And a sadist. Only a sadist can be in a room like this and not participate in a game.”

I frowned. “Wow.”

Sloane cracked a smile. “He is a sadist, Wren. Take it from someone who has known him all her life.” She sipped her drink, eyeing me. “Anyway, he joined the game. It was strip poker. There was a woman who insisted on going to his bed, and Knox wasn't interested in her. It didn't matter when he lost, though. She wanted him to sleep with her.”

Wren bit the tip of her glass. “And let me guess, he refused?”

“How'd you know?”

Wren turned to me, barely hiding her giant smile. “He’s becoming a little too predictable.”

Sloane brightened with glee. “A girl after my own heart. Anyway, he refused and had to buy drinks for everyone after.” Wren started to laugh. “The bastard. It barely put a dent in his account. He got off easy.”

They shared a few more stories before Wren excused herself to go to the restroom. My eyes followed her across the room as she high-fived some of my men who stopped her to say hello, trying to get her to join their table.

“Careful.”

I glanced at Sloane. She was looking at me from behind the bar. “What?”

“You’re staring.”

“I’m watching.”

She raised a knowing brow. “Sure.”

I ignored her.

Sloane was one of the few people in the club who could get away with talking to me like that, mostly because she had known me too long. And partly because she was terrifying in her own way. She was a certifiable badass. Probably the only one in the room who could beat me in a fight. She was a high-ranking member of the Sons until she was severely injured.

She poured a drink for a prospect.

“You know, for someone who claims he doesn’t care, you’re doing a terrible job,” she mused.