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I shrug. “I’ve got more willpower than either one of them and I’ve already almost made that mistake once before.”

“I don’t know,” Moose murmurs with a shrug. “They seem happy.”

“They seem whipped,” I quip and Smith snorts.

I watch Kelly as she works behind the bar and a smile teases my lips. “I think you’re wrong about Kelly.”

“Dun, dun, dun-dun,” Smith hums and images of my first wedding rush back to me as I kick him under the table.

“Jackass.”

I glance to the other corner of the bar, catching the eye of a pretty little thing in a denim mini skirt and tank top. She holds my gaze for a few seconds before smiling and looking away. I grin, grabbing my beer and taking another drink as I keep my gaze on her. She meets my eyes again and her pale cheeks turn pink. I picture her on her knees in front of me, pink still staining her cheeks as she wraps her lips around my cock and shift in my chair. My jeans feel tight and I swallow down some more beer but I can’t even taste it anymore. If Kelly’s off the table, I definitely have another option.

“Also, a bad idea,” Moose says, and I turn to him with a frown.

“Why the hell are you trying to ruin all my fun?”

“Don’t do it, man,” Moose warns, shaking his head. “That girl’s got stage five clinger written all over her. She’ll have a tracker embedded in your nuts before you even realize what’s happening.”

“Thanks for the visual, asshole.”

He shrugs and my gaze is drawn back to the corner as I think about risking it anyway. Fuck, I’m so goddamn horny that I might just take on a stalker. No, scratch that. I swing back toward the bar and Kelly smiles, tempting me once again. Damn. You know what, I’m not going to catch feelings for the girl after one wild night. Never going to happen. Smiling, I push my chair back and stand up just as my phone starts ringing.

Fuck.

Pulling it out of my pocket, I check the screen and sigh. It’s our club president, Blaze, and I can’t send his call to voice mail.

“Yeah, boss, what’s up?” I answer as Smith and Moose stare up at me.

“I need your help with something,” he answers, slurring his words and my brows pull up. I can’t remember the last time I saw Blaze drunk but he sounds blitzed right now. “Can you come to the clubhouse?”

I nod, glancing down at my watch. “Yeah, give me fifteen.”

He hangs up without another word and I shake my head as I pull the phone away from my ear.

“Everything okay?” Smith asks and I nod.

“Yeah. Blaze just needs to talk to me. I’ll see you boys later.”

Moose smirks. “You better thank him for saving you from matrimonial bliss.”

“Fuck off, asshole,” I shoot back with a laugh as I back away from the table and flip them off. “Oh, and thanks for paying my tab.”

“Son of a bitch,” he hisses and I turn around, ducking out of the front door. Headlights illuminate the front of the bar as a car swings into the lot and I zip up my leather jacket to fight off the chill in the air. When I reach my bike, I swing my leg over and I smile as she rumbles to life beneath me. I’ve been all over this country and no place feels like home like the back of my bike.

My phone rings again and I glance at the screen, silencing it when I see that it’s Rowan, my baby sister. I’ll just have to call her back later. The streets are quiet as I make my way to the clubhouse and it provides me with an easy ride to clear my thoughts. As I get closer, I start to wonder what Blaze could need my help with and why the hell he’s drowning in a bottle tonight.

I first joined the Bayou Devils MC four years ago, right after I rolled into town. At that point, I’d been on the road for two years and I was tired of the nomadic lifestyle. The pain that had once driven me from my home was dulled and I was ready to build a life again somewhere. Blaze and the club had just undergone a major restructuring, getting out of guns and drugs after he was shot, and he didn’t have a whole lot of people in his corner but he was determined to make the club legitimate. When I heard of the work they were doing to help those in need, it struck a chord with me and I found a new home for myself.

The clubhouse parking lot is empty except for Blaze’s bike when I pull in and I park next to him, worry gnawing at me. We had a lot of drama go down with Ali and Carly, Storm and Chance’s girls, a while back but things have been quiet lately. Still, I can’t shake this feeling like something big is on the horizon. It’s like I’m constantly poised, ready for an attack from any angle and I wish I could figure out why.

When I walk into the clubhouse, my gaze is drawn to the bar where Blaze is posted on a stool, a glass filled with amber liquid in his hand. He downs the rest of it and sets it on the bar as he grabs the bottle of bourbon and pours himself some more.

“Thanks for coming,” he slurs, not meeting my eyes. I scan the room, looking for anyone else but it’s empty.

“Where’s everyone at?”

He turns, his bloodshot eyes flicking around the room like he’s just now realizing no one is here before he shrugs and falls off his stool, somehow staying upright. He grabs his glass off the bar. “Follow me. There’s something I need to show you.”