Chapter Eighteen

Axel

“Thank you for bringing that biker home with you,” Rickie told Star as I loaded her bag into the back of the truck.

I smiled to myself and shook my head as I slid the tailgate closed. I’d already said my goodbyes to everyone—Carmen, Jim, Davis, Rickie, Ben, Rain, even little Woods. I was going to miss them all. I’d spent two days with them, and now it was time to go, but part of me didn’t want to leave. The warmth, the chaos, the laughter—it had felt like a real family Christmas I had always heard about. Hell, it had felt like a real family.

Star wrapped her arms around her mom one last time and pulled her into a hug. She headed toward the truck.

“We better see you next year,” Carmen called out to me.

I raised my hand in a wave and flashed a grin her way. I sure as hell hoped I’d see them again, and I wasn’t just talking about next Christmas. Hell, I’d be happy to see them much sooner than that.

“Ready?” Star’s voice broke through my thoughts.

I nodded. “Only if you are.”

She gave me a tired smile and climbed into the truck. I shut her door softly and took a moment to look back at the house, the people who had so easily let me be a part of them for a bit. I gave them one last wave, slipped behind the wheel of the truck, and started the engine.

“Bye, Axel,” Woods shouted from the front porch.

I chuckled and shook my head. Damn, I was going to miss that kid. He had more energy than anyone I knew, and that smile of his—hell, it was contagious.

The ride was quiet for a bit, the kind of quiet where you know someone’s thinking, but you don’t know what about. I glanced at Star as we pulled out of the neighborhood and onto the road.

“You good?” I asked and kept my voice casual. I didn’t want to push her, but I needed to know. There was something different in the air. Maybe it was just the aftermath of the holidays, but the shift between us was palpable.

Star didn’t meet my eyes at first, but then she nodded. She leaned back against the seat and let out a small sigh. “I’m just tired. I think I’ll take a nap for a bit if that’s okay with you.”

I nodded, and my fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “Do whatever you want, honey,” I replied and glanced at her. I didn’t want to push her to talk, not yet. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, and that worried the hell out of me.

By the time we were out of Redmond and heading down the highway, Star had curled up in the passenger seat. Her eyes were closed, her body relaxed. I kept my focus on the road, but my mind was racing.

I didn’t like not knowing what was going on in her head. She’d been quieter than usual when I got out of the shower. Maybe it was just the long holiday, or maybe she was feeling the same way I was—like leaving that warm family atmosphere was hard to do.

I wanted to ask her to talk about it, but I didn’t know how to start that conversation. So, I just drove. Let her sleep, and let her have some space. But when she woke up, we were going to talk. I needed to know what was going on and what she was feeling.

Because I knew what I was feeling and what I wanted, but I needed to know if she was on the same page as me.