3. The Bet

Three

The Bet

Axle

Viper, Cash, and I are hanging out at the clubhouse bar. The music is pumping, and one of my favorite bands, Motionless in White, is playing. I join in, singing to the chorus.

"Shit, you sound terrible," Viper says, smirking.

I sing louder just to spite him, using my hand as a microphone. I scream at the end until he throws a dirty tea towel at me and scores a direct hit to my face.

I gag, rip it off, and throw it back at Cash, who's standing behind the bar. "That stinks!"

He laughs. "It shut you up, didn't it?"

Viper's squinting at me. "Can you hear your own voice?"

I nod. "Sure can."

"Then you must hear how shit you sound."

I gasp dramatically. "You must have a hearing problem then," I say to Viper, fighting off a grin.

He shakes his head as he chuckles.

"Did I just hear something dying?" Reaper, the president of our club, is walking toward us with an expression of disgust on his face, which makes all of us laugh.

"You mean the sound of an angel," I clarify.

"If the angel was being brutally murdered," Demon chimes from the pool table, where he's playing a game with Twitch.

I roll my eyes. "Well, I've got to entertain myself somehow."

The other men return to their conversations. Grace sashays over to me, giving me a flirtatious glance. I groan. Prime example number one of why I'm bored—no more casual sex with the stage-five clinger. I shake my head. "Not now," I call out to her over the music, loud and clear.

She pauses, but then keeps walking toward me while Viper chuckles next to me. I grit my teeth and plaster on a smile, trying not to lose my shit at her.

"Oh, come on, baby," she coos, pushing up her boobs, which are about to burst out of her bra-like top.

She's hot... amazing body, but she needs a big fucking wake-up call. We will never be anything but fuck buddies. My nonexistent patience vanishes. I raise my voice and stress, "I said, not now ."

Her eyes widen. She fakes a tight-lipped smile and retreats.

I blow out a breath. "Fuuuck! I'm trying my best not to be a dick because she's a sweet butt and lives here, but she's making it really fucking difficult."

Viper looks at me with a raised brow. "What's up with you lately?"

"She's in full stage-five-clinger mode. Even started asking me if I would ever get married." I shake my head while Viper laughs.

He cringes. "That's heavy. She realizes she's living at a motorcycle club, right?"

" Exactly . I knew I had to stop the casual sex right away. Next she'll be poking holes in condoms, trying to get pregnant."

Viper throws his head back, letting out a loud laugh as Cash asks, "Does anyone want another drink?"

"Another beer," I say.

I thought going for a long ride on my Harley today with all the club members would lift my spirits and calm my restlessness, but it was a temporary fix. "We need to have a massive party here. Spread the word for chicks from nearby towns and girls who recently moved here for college."

"I'm keen," Viper replies, upbeat. "Is that's what's up your ass? You want new pussy?"

I shrug. "This town is pretty small, and we've been through a lot of the women here." A lot .

He raises his brow. "What exactly are you after?"

My eyes wander over the women in the clubhouse, and I grimace. "The opposite of them," I say, and tilt my head toward the sweet butts. Vera, Grace, Candy, and Mercedez are dancing to the music and rubbing up against each other.

"I don't want an easy girl. I want someone to keep my interest... I want..." My lip twitches. "Innocent."

Viper puffs out a breath of air. "Keep dreaming. Have you ever even met a nun?"

I chuckle. "She doesn't have to be a nun."

"Virgins want relationships. Good luck finding one that doesn't."

I don't want a relationship. She doesn't have to be a virgin either. A challenge is what I'm after. Viper has a point. Biker parties aren't the place to find someone like that. But then inspiration strikes. "I'm going to go on one of those dating apps."

Viper's eyes brighten. "That is going to end up being some great entertainment. You'll have to show me who you find on there."

I pull my phone out and search for dating apps.

One hour later, I've signed up to three. The chiming of message notifications makes my smug grin stretch wide.

"See... the ladies flock to me."

Viper shakes his head, trying to smother a smirk. "Not the lady you're after."

My smile vanishes.

"Did you put on your profile that you're a member of a motorcycle club?"

"Yeah, of course I did." It always attracts the ladies.

"Idiot! Delete that part, and don't use any photo of you that shows your cut," he says while pointing at my War Brothers MC vest.

"Do I have to take a picture with my hair parted on the side like a good boy as well?" I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

He chuckles. "No, I'm just saying if you want to attract a different type of woman, you're going to have to change it up a bit, at least for the first part, anyway."

This is going to be harder than I thought. I crop one of my photos so that it shows only my head and shoulders and nothing about being in a motorcycle club, and I change my occupation to mechanic. Even though I'm not qualified as one, I'm just as skilled.

Next I browse profiles, choosing women within a two-hour drive from here. I'm not driving any further than that to see them. I want to open the net as wide as possible because I'm sure the women who live here know my face. A few of the women who have matched with me are local. "Nope"—swipe. "Nope"—swipe. I delete their requests.

An hour later, as I'm flicking through the women on the app, I find a pretty little thing with long blond hair and a sweet smile. "Fucking perfect." In her profile picture, she's wearing jeans and a fancy long top. I click on her profile. There's not much information about her. Just that she works in Crown Village at a restaurant. I've never seen her before. I frown when I see she doesn't have any other photos.

"Do you think this one's a catfish?" I ask Viper. I give him my phone.

"Ohhh," he says, amused. "She's hot! You'll never know until you talk to her." He zooms in on the picture and laughs. "You've found your nun."

"Why do you say that?" I ask.

"She's wearing a gold cross around her neck."

Excitement buzzes through me. Fuck yeah . That's a sign right there!

I'm halfway through my beer when my phone chimes. When I look down at it, my heart jolts. "She matched me!" I cheer. "If I spend some time with her, that should make Grace leave me alone too. I'm just saying... two birds, one stone." Grace can move on to one of my brothers.

Viper throws his head back. "Ha! The only way you're going to get into that pussy is in your dreams!"

I pull at my cut, then mockingly run a hand through my hair like he usually does. "We all can't be as pretty as you."

He laughs. "She looks young and classy. Take another look at her picture! Her clothes cover most of her skin. I'm sure she has a chastity belt on too. I'm telling you—she will never go out with a biker."

The photo of the innocent woman glows from my screen.

"You want to make a bet on that? I guarantee I can get into a relationship with her, and I'll take it one step further and make her fall in love with me." Because I'm pretty sure that's the only way I'll be getting into those sweet panties. I can't help myself. I'm spurred on by the thrill of the gamble and of getting with someone I've never been with before.

Viper's smile widens and his hand shoots out. I grip his hand and shake it. "Easiest money I've ever made," he says confidently.

My eyes tighten. "You're wrong, and I can't wait to wipe that smug smile right off your face."

"Don't forget," he remarks with a cocky smirk, "she probably won't have sex till marriage."

My eyes bulge and I swallow hard. "She better not! That's old school anyway." I wave him off. "No one does that anymore."

"Yeah, they do," he says, and chuckles. "And here's another thought. You'll be talking to her through messages. How's she going to understand your dyslexic ass?"

A sigh escapes me. I'd forgotten about that. I'm going to have to download an autocorrect app on my phone to double check everything I write because I'm terrible at spelling—well, anything related to writing and reading. I'm good at fixing shit, which is why I'm a mechanic.

"I'll work it out. I've never seen her before. Her profile says she lives in Crown Village. She must have just moved here."

He shrugs. "Talk to her and find out."

"Oh, I plan to." I might even get Twitch, our club's tech guy, to stalk her online for me.