Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
The dress I wore draped over every one of my curves, left my shoulders exposed and dipped way down in the back.
So yeah, that could’ve been part of the reason why Colby kept staring at me throughout the entire ceremony and reception.
But it was more likely because of what had been left unfinished between us, despite the finality of my drunken words.
A prickle of knowing sent ice down my spine —that maybe we’d never be finished.
Hence me drinking even more than I normally would, which was already a lot. Despite the sheer volume of booze that I consumed, I found myself disturbingly sober as the night progressed.
Though there was still a lot of dancing to be had, great music and a seemingly unlimited bar, I found myself venturing away from the action—something unheard of for me. I ventured away because I no longer felt the heat in my body from the weight of his stare. No longer felt hyperaware of his presence. I even went so far as to scour the entire area for Colby’s distinctive figure, but I could not see him.
What I could see was a shape outside of the various lights and lanterns illuminating the space we’d created for the wedding.
Through process of elimination, I deduced that it was him. The married bikers weren’t apt to go and sit on their own in the dark because they were attached at the hip to their wives. And the single ones definitely weren’t about to do that since they were on the hunt for someone to spend the night with.
Plus, Colby’s bike was still there. His was sleek, mostly black with a harsh red streak running the length of a bike. An intricate dragon.
I’d marveled at it many times when I didn’t think anyone was looking, infinitely curious about the origins of that dragon, the meaning.
I’d spent a lot more time than I wanted to admit wondering about Colby, his life before the club, what led him here.
It must’ve been the booze, the weird energy that weddings created or the desert air that made me take leave of my senses and wander over to the dark spot where Colby had situated himself.
I was somehow present enough to snatch some pillows from a nearby chair and a blanket. The night was crisping up, and silk provided no barrier between my body and the wind.
The ground crunched underneath the heels that I’d stubbornly refused to take off even though my feet were killing me, and they weren’t appropriate for the terrain. But I liked the pain of heels, liked that the sharp sensation from every step kept me in the moment.
Colby didn’t say anything when I approached though his body stiffened. I held my breath as I sat beside him, putting the pillow down first—the desert ground would wreak havoc on this custom silk number.
“I can’t do this shit with you right now,” Colby said, voice foreign.
It was cold and also … tired. Weary? He sounded much, much older than he was.
I bristled at the clue his tone gave me. A hint at some kind of trauma, something in his past that aged him that way, that sent him on the road to seek out an outlaw biker club.
Now, I’ve never considered myself a nurturing person—I fucking hated babysitting and didn’t find children overly charming—but I found myself desperate to take care of Colby in some way. To take away his pain.
“Okay,” I replied instead of biting back with some smart remark that was second nature to me.
I didn’t know whether that surprised Colby or not since it was hard to see his reflection in the inky night, lit up only enough to show his shape.
We were silent for a while, the sounds of the music and the raucous partygoers filtering through the stillness of the desert.
“I liked Violet the second I saw her,” Colby said. “Not in the way everyone probably expected me to.” He shook his head. “Swiss saw that, luckily. Which was why I didn’t get any shit from him when we hung out so much. Elden likely saw it too, which was why he didn’t kill me.” He chuckled without humor. “I liked her because of what she brought to the club. Some kind of fuckin’ … normalcy, I guess?” He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m not in an environment where I encounter many people the same age as me. Sure, there are some other younger members, prospects, but they’re in the life. They’re not going to college, frat parties. It was … nice, I guess, to have her as a friend. I thought of her more like a … sister.”
He stopped abruptly, clearing his throat.
I heard the pain in his words. Felt his deep-seated agony. But for the life of me, I couldn’t think up what might be causing it, I couldn’t say anything that might coax it out of him. Damn me for drowning myself in fucking champagne and then deciding to do those shots with Javier.