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“I’m not done.” She arches a brow in warning and I roll my eyes. “That was my whole point about getting out there and living your life. Just enjoy the time you spend with him and see what happens.”

“Morgan…”

“Nope,” she says, shaking her head. “Dalton is not Owen and it’s not fair to paint him with the same brush. Owen took from you and from what you told me, Dalton has only ever helped you so take a chill pill, girl.”

I let out a surprised laugh, rolling my eyes.

She’s right.

Dalton has never asked for anything from me, never pushed me past my comfort zone, so he doesn’t deserve to be seen through the lens of Owen.

Meeting Morgan’s gaze, I nod. “Okay.”

“There’s my girl,” she says with a smile. She wraps her arm around my shoulders and turns us towards the door. “Now, let’s go. We have hot bikers to go meet.”

“No one said anything about them being hot.”

She winks at me. “I inferred.”

“Dangerous game, Morgs.”

“Uh, babes,” she says, pinning me with a look as we walk out into my living room. “You fucked the man on the evening of your first date in a trailer at an underground fight. He’s fucking hot.”

I sputter out a laugh and heat rushes to my cheeks.

Again, she’s not wrong.

“I fucking knew it,” she declares, studying my face. “Oh, I can’t wait to meet the man who has my best friend blushing like that.”

I playfully shove her off me and roll my eyes. “Get your bag and let’s go then.”

Once we both have our bags, we head down to the Jeep and I fire off a quick text to Dalton to let him know we’re on our way, per his request. His reply is immediate.

Dalton:

Drive safe, baby.

See you soon.

Unable to wipe the smile off my face, I toss my phone into the cup holder of the Jeep and pull out of my parking spot as Play With Fire by Sam Tinnesz starts playing on the radio.

“Oh, I love this song,” Morgan says, turning it up and we sing along as we drive over to meet up with the guys. My apartment isn’t far from Club Voodoo so it doesn’t take us long to get there. We pull up to the curb about halfway down the block from the entrance.

“Who said they were hot?” Morgan says, attitude in her voice as she imitates me and then gestures to the three men standing by the entrance of the club.

Oh shit.

He is fucking hot.

Dalton is leaning against the side of the club, checking his phone, before periodically looking up and scanning the road but he hasn’t spotted us yet. He’s wearing a plain black t-shirt but the way it stretches across his muscles makes my belly flip and I remember what his skin felt like beneath my fingers. The rest of his outfit is just as ordinary - dark wash jeans and a pair of black boots - but goddamn does he pull it off well. I’m suddenly very aware of just how short my dress is and the way my tits are barely contained in the top of it.

“Oh, you’re so fucking gone,” Morgan says with a laugh and I shove her playfully as we start walking down the sidewalk.

“Shut up.”

There is no point in even arguing with her anymore because she won’t listen.

I told Dalton we could keep things casual.