 by Nicole Jacquelyn.jpg)
Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
A Harley, to join the Aces Motorcycle Club, and to marry Emilia Robertson.
When he turned eighteen, those three things seemed within his grasp… until Emilia and her parents disappeared without a word.
Three years later, Emilia appears on Michael’s doorstep—older, beautiful, and mother to a toddler who looks just like Michael.
He doesn’t know if he can trust her.
She doesn’t know if she can count on him.
He’s still in love with her.
She never stopped loving him.
Everything Michael’s ever wanted is within his grasp again, but in order to get it he’ll have to find a way to forgive the girl who broke him.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Prologue
Michael
“Hey, gorgeous,” I murmured, a smile pulling at my lips as I opened my locker. Fuck, I was so ready to be done with lugging books around. If it wasn’t for my mother, who’d threatened dismemberment if I didn’t finish high school, I would’ve already dropped out.
Emilia’s hair fell into her face as she tipped her head down. “You’re impossible.”
“Not good at hidin’,” I agreed, grabbing the books I’d need that night. “Not sure why we are.”
“You know exactly why,” she replied, shutting the locker next to mine. “My parents would have multiple heart attacks if they thought there was anything going on between—”
“You mean I can’t tell your old man about the way you climbed on my lap and—”
“Michael,” she snapped, smacking my arm. “Don’t.”
“Fine,” I muttered with a sigh. Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I gestured for her to walk. “After you.”
“Is your mom home today?” she asked, falling in beside me as we walked toward the front of the school. The halls were crowded, but like always, people made a path as we moved through them. We may not have made our relationship public, but everyone knew that Emilia belonged to the Hawthornes.
“Should be.” I glanced at her. Damn, she was pretty. She was smaller than most of the girls in our school, even the freshman, which made us kind of an odd couple since I was so big, but somehow we worked. “Why, you hopin’ for a little time to ourselves?”
“My mom will probably call to check in,” she replied, wrinkling her nose. “It’ll be better if your mom is there.”
“I don’t know how the fuck your parents still think you’re tutorin’ me,” I said with a laugh, opening the door for her. The change from the hallway’s fluorescent lighting to the bright sun made me grimace, and I pulled on some sunglasses. “Seems like they would’ve caught on after almost a year.”
“I think they feel more comfortable assuming that you aren’t as smart as me.” She glanced at me apologetically. “Because if they’ve done everything they’re supposed to their entire lives—”
“Then how the hell could a kid that grew up playing in the gravel driveway of a motorcycle club be as smart as their precious daughter?”
“You know how they are.”
“Unfortunately, I do,” I muttered, shooting her a small smile so she knew we were still okay. Her parents’ views on the club, my family, and me specifically weren’t news. We’d been friends our entire lives, spent every year in the same class in school, and still, they saw my family as some white trash criminals.
It probably started when my mom dropped me off at kindergarten with a half shaved head, the rest of her hair a vivid blue, and a matching septum ring. She wasn’t exactly the picture of a PTA mom. Though, it could’ve started the first time my dad picked me up on the back of his bike. Either way, their opinion of me was set in stone.
“Can you guys hurry up?” my little brother Rumi called across the parking lot. He was sitting on the tailgate of my truck, his backpack on the ground by his feet. “It always takes you guys twice the time it takes everyone else to get the fuck out of there.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I called back as we got closer. “In a hurry to get home?”
“I’d rather not stay any longer than I have to,” he griped, pulling his long hair back into a ponytail.
“Bus left five minutes ago,” I reminded him, grabbing his bag as we reached the truck and tossing it in the bed with mine. “You coulda already been gone.”
“I’m not ridin’ the bus,” he grumbled, hopping down. “I’d rather walk.”
“No one’s stoppin’ ya.”
“Hey, Rumi,” Emilia said, interrupting our bickering with a grin.
“Hey, Emmy Lou Who,” he murmured, throwing his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in until her face smashed against his chest. He tugged the backpack off her shoulder. “How ya been, sprite?”
“Pretty good since you saw me at lunch,” she replied, laughing as she shoved him away.
“You’re the best part of my day,” Rumi announced dramatically, throwing his arms out wide, the backpack dangling from one hand.
“Could you stop flirting with my girlfriend?” I complained, grabbing Emilia’s hand so I could tow her toward the driver’s side door.
“Can’t,” Rumi said, stashing the bag with ours. “She’s too good for you, Mick. I’m gonna steal her.”
I scoffed as Emilia laughed. It was a familiar argument that none of us took seriously. The chance of my brother trying to make a move on my girl was about as likely as being killed by a falling meteor.
“So, no practice today?” Rumi asked as we headed home. My brother was annoying, but I actually liked when he rode with us because it meant that Emilia would sit in the middle seat, pressed against me from shoulder to thigh.