Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
I nod, thinking that’s the best idea, for now, only to look over to where Lynch and Zoe were to find them gone.
“Night,” I mutter, relishing in the fact that he’s facing away from the hallway and Mac is busy restocking the beer fridge.
Slipping unnoticed down the hallway, I let myself into Briar’s room with my keycard. I don’t know how long I’ve been playing peeping Tom with all the action in the living room, but I find Briar face-down passed out on his bed. His pillow is damp from his hair, forming a dark ring on the normally cream-colored fabric.
Slipping my shoes and clothes off, I climb on the bed with him, covering his muscled back with my softer body. The heat of his skin is something I’ve been longing for all damn night, and I release a whoosh of relieved breath as I settle on him.
“You shouldn’t be in here,” he grumbles into his pillow, but he doesn’t move to push me away.
“What happened tonight?” I ask against his warm skin.
“I fucked up.”
He doesn’t explain or elaborate further, and I know he won’t.
Club business is never discussed. Women in the MC life are supposed to take everything at face value. The men’s word is law, and we aren’t to question any of it. Those that do don’t last very long around here.
“I need you,” I tell him instead, with a slow swivel of my hips against him.
Certain the move would shoot him into action, I’m incredibly disappointed when he just stays still, lying underneath me like my weight doesn’t even register.
“Tell me what’s wrong, so I can fix it,” I whisper in his ear.
“You need to leave.”
His words aren’t a suggestion, but an order, ones I know he’ll physically enforce if I don’t comply on my own.
With the threat of tears burning behind my eyes, I climb off of him and scramble back into my clothes.
“You touch me, then push me away, over and over,” I spit, finding my spine somewhere between tugging on my dress and slipping my feet into my sandals. “One of these days I’m not going to come crawling back.”
I let the empty threat hang in the air as I leave his room. We both know I’d turn around and walk right into his arms if he opened his door and demanded it of me. That thought keeps me standing in the hallway for a long moment before finally giving up and heading out the back to the house.
Silence greets me as I step through the back door. Zoe and Lynch must still be playing at the clubhouse because there aren’t any sounds coming from upstairs, and they don’t entertain people in our home.
“Thank fuck for that,” I mutter to myself as I climb the stairs to my own room.
Overcome with my own exhaustion from the day, I don’t even bother to undress as I fall into bed. I’m tired from staying up late at the bar last night and returning only to go to Briar. My nap earlier wasn’t nearly as long as I would’ve liked, but it’s the push and pull from the man I love that seeps into my bones and leaves me weary.
I knew this thing between us wouldn’t be easy, but the second I think I finally have him, he pushes me away again. How can we successfully fight everyone with an opinion about us when he’s fighting against us too?
It’s that thought and the realization that we may not make it that carries me into a fitful sleep.
Chapter 32
Briar
“Someone want to fucking explain what happened last night?”
I don’t bother looking up from the table to know that Lynch’s icy glare is on me.
“It was my fault.” My head snaps up in Pete’s direction. “I should’ve been here.”
“You’re not responsible for what happens when you take a fucking night off,” Lynch spits, and I feel his eyes on me again. “What was so goddamned important for you to not pay attention when one of the guys comes to you for direction?”
He doesn’t do well with excuses, but spilling the truth with the entire MC sitting around the table during church isn’t something I’m fucking brave enough to do, so I open my mouth and lie to my president for the millionth time since Molly came home from school.
“The ride back from Detroit fucking killed me. I took a pain pill and passed out. I wasn’t thinking when Chains texted about the gate.”
“I’m not concerned about the fucking gate. If you had taken care of that bastard like you told me you were going to, that girl getting hurt last night never would’ve happened.”
What the actual fuck is he talking about? He knew that night that I didn’t put that guy to ground. He’d punched me in the fucking face for reminding him that Molly wasn’t a little girl anymore.