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“Emma, wake up.” Nix’s voice drags me out of my dream and as I open my eyes, I find him hovering above me, his blue eyes filled with concern. I’m frozen, unwilling or unable to look away from him – I’m not sure which. A kind smile tugs at his lips and he reaches toward me, brushing his fingers over my cheek. My lips part as I reach up to the spot he just touched and feel the wetness there. Shit, am I crying?
Nix sits on the bed next to me and I sit up, quickly wiping my face to hide the evidence of my dream. For once, I wasn’t having a nightmare but dreaming about the good Ryan, the man he fooled me into thinking he was, which is sometimes harder than the truth. For a short time before his true colors were revealed, I was really, really happy.
“Are you okay?” Nix asks and I glance over at him. His gaze is intense as he studies me and I swallow down my pain before nodding at him.
“Yeah, I’ll be all right.” Sighing, I glance down and it dawns on me that Nix is in my room, in my bed with me, and my cheeks heat. “Uh, Nix… why are you in my room?”
He nudges under my chin with his fingers, forcing me to look up at him. “I could hear you cryin’ from out in the living room, Darlin’.”
“Oh,” I mutter, unsure of what else I should say to him. Maybe he’s expecting me to spill my guts and tell him about my dream but it’s not something I want to dwell on. He shuffles closer to me so our hips are touching and wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his large body. My muscles are tense for a moment before I let go of my fear and relax into his touch because somehow this is exactly what I needed. He buries his nose in my hair and lets out a sigh like all is right in his world.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Okay,” he whispers, running a comforting hand over my hair and his lips press against my head, making me feel completely cherished. Closing my eyes, I turn my mind off and allow myself to enjoy the comfort of his embrace without overthinking things for a moment and when I open them again, I’m captivated by one of the tattoos on his arm. It’s half man, half skull and he’s wearing the top jaw of an alligator on his head.
“What’s this for?” I ask, tracing over the outline with my finger.
“My dad is the president of the Bayou Devils MC. That’s their patch.”
My eyes widen in recognition. The Bayou Devils are well known in these parts for illegal activity and causing trouble but I heard they recently cleaned up their act. In fact, there was even a rumor they started helping women escape bad situations but who knows if that’s true or not.
“Are you a member?” I ask, trying to remember if I’ve ever seen Nix on a motorcycle.
“Naw. That wasn’t for me.”
“And your dad was okay with that?”
His body tenses underneath me. “No. He wasn’t.”
I pull back to look up at him and I can see the storm building in his blue eyes. “What happened?”
His gaze flicks down to me, and he studies me for a moment. “You really want to know?”
“Of course.” I find myself wanting to know everything about him. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair.
“I already told you I met my friend Jason when I was eighteen, but that was kind of the end of the story. My dad had been pressuring me to join the Devils for a while and I couldn’t decide what to do. It wasn’t really my thing but Dad always went on and on about legacy, and it being my responsibility to take over the club someday. When I met Jason, I really fell in love with tattooing and I told my dad I wasn’t going to prospect.” His arms tighten around me and I snuggle into him. After a moment, he takes a deep breath. “He cut me out of his life after that. Didn’t speak to me for a few years.”
“What changed?”
“He got shot.”
I gasp and pull back to look at him again with wide eyes. A soft smile graces his lips just before he presses them to my forehead.
“I guess after that, he decided that life was too short to hold onto his anger. We still aren’t as close as we were when I was a kid but we’re better now.”
“I get it, you know. You have to do what you love.”
This time, he pulls back with an expectant look on his face.
“You gonna tell me why you don’t paint anymore?”
I bite my lip, unsure of how to open this dam. It’s almost like I physically can’t force the words out of my mouth.
“I…I just can’t.”