Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Mandy

I take a swig of beer, letting the sharp, cold liquid slide down my throat.

Across the table, the girls are laughing about some shit.

The tangy scent of barbecue sauce wafts over from a nearby table.

“God, this place reminds me of Texas,” Harlow says, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “The pork ribs are to die for.”

I nod, tearing into a piece of cornbread. “I haven’t had barbecue this good in ages. Figured we needed some proper grub for your visit.”

Zoe snorts. “More like you just didn’t want to cook.”

We all bust up laughing at that.

She knows me too well.

Cooking is not exactly my forte—I’d much rather be in front of the camera, getting filthy with my girl Zoe while Spark watches.

But that’s a whole other story.

Growing up in a shitty town with an even shittier stepdad, laughter was in short supply.

He was a real piece of work—a degenerate gambler who made my life hell.

But somehow, through all the bullshit, Harlow and I managed to keep our friendship intact.

She was the one bright spot in an otherwise craptastic childhood.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I fish it out.

A text from Doc pops up on the screen:

Hey, darlin’. Is there any chance you can watch Kash a bit later? Got some errands to run.

A smile spreads across my face as I type back a reply.

Doc’s a real sweetheart, even if he tries to hide it under that gruff biker exterior.

And his little boy Kash is the most adorable thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Zoe eyes me suspiciously. “What’s got you grinning like the Cheshire Cat?”

I shrug, trying to play it cool. “Oh, just Doc. He wants me to watch Kash for a bit.”

Harlow raises an eyebrow. “Doc? Who’s that?”

“One of the guys from the motorcycle club Zoe’s man is prospecting for,” I explain. “Real good dude.”

Zoe scoffs. “Good dude, my ass. With the way you two have been making googly eyes at each other, there’s definitely more to it than that.”

I roll my eyes, even as a blush creeps up my neck. “We’re just friends, Zoe. He’s been going through some shit lately, and I’m helping him out, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh. You keep telling yourself that, babe.” Zoe smirks knowingly. “I saw the way you practically drooled when he took his shirt off the other day.”

“Whoa, hold up,” Harlow interjects, holding up a hand. “How’d this Doc guy get his road name anyway? Sounds like there’s a story there.”

I take another sip of beer, trying to ignore the heat flooding my cheeks. “He was an army medic back in the day. Got himself a medical discharge and ended up prospecting for the Reapers Rejects.”

Zoe snorts again. “And you know all this how? Oh, right, because you’re just friends.”

I flip her the bird, but I can’t help laughing. “Fuck off, Z. I’m allowed to have guy friends.”

“Yeah, ‘friends’ you call Daddy,” she shoots back with a wicked grin.

At this point, Harlow is practically falling out of her seat, giggling. “Wait, what now?”

I groan, dropping my head into my hands. “Oh my God, it wasn’t like that! He’s an actual dad, you pervs. I was just being nice.”

But even as the words leave my mouth, I know it’s a flimsy excuse.

The truth is, there’s a part of me that loves the idea of calling Doc “Daddy” . . . and not just because he has a kid.

The man oozes sex appeal from every pore with his piercing blue eyes and chiseled jawline.

Maybe Zoe’s right.

Maybe there is more between us than friendship.

But I’m not ready to go there, not yet.

My last relationship crashed and burned spectacularly, leaving me gun-shy about opening up again.

So for now, I’ll stick to being Doc’s friend . . . even if my traitorous body has other ideas.

Besides, we’ve both got enough baggage to fill a 747.

The last thing either of us needs is more drama.

I force a smile and grab a rib from the platter in front of me. “All right, enough about my non-existent love life. Let’s talk about something else. Harlow, tell us about this new job of yours in Austin.”

As she launches into a story about her douchebag boss, I let myself relax, grateful for the change in subject.

This is nice—catching up with old friends over some killer barbecue, shooting the shit without a care in the world.

For a few hours, I can forget about the ghosts of my past and the uncertain future that lies ahead.

Right now, at this moment, life is good.

And I’ll hold onto that feeling for as long as I can.

Harlow’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts, “I still can’t believe Mama helped us get out of that shithole town. If it wasn’t for her . . .” She shakes her head, emotion flickering across her face.

“We’d probably be stuck there, popping out babies and waiting tables at the diner,” I finish her sentence, the memories rushing back.

Harlow’s mom was a fucking saint, always looking out for us, even when her own life was falling apart.

“Remember when she gave us that envelope full of cash? Told us to run and never look back?” Harlow’s eyes mist over. “I thought she was crazy at first. But she knew . . . she knew we needed to get out before it was too late.”

I nod, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “I’ll never forget that night. Sneaking out while everyone was passed out drunk, hopping on that Greyhound bus with nothing but a backpack and a prayer.”

“And then we ended up here.” Harlow gestures around at the glittering lights of the Vegas strip in the distance. “Two small-town girls trying to make it in the big city.”

“We did more than try. We fucking made it.” I raise my glass in a toast, “To Harlow’s mom. And to us, for having the balls to chase our dreams.”

“Hey, we had some good times in that shitty studio apartment,” Harlow protests with a grin. “Remember when the AC broke in the middle of July, and we slept on the floor in our underwear for a week straight?”

“Oh God, don’t remind me,” I groan. “I thought I was gonna melt into a puddle of sweat.”

Zoe snorts. “Sounds like my kind of party.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t all bad,” I concede, thinking back on those early days. “We had each other’s backs, no matter what. Even when Harlow decided to abandon me and move to Austin.”

I shoot her a teasing glare, and she rolls her eyes. “I didn’t abandon you. I got a job offer I couldn’t refuse.”

“Mhmm, sure. You keep telling yourself that.” I smirk, but there’s no real heat behind it. I’m proud as hell of everything Harlow has accomplished. “Speaking of Austin, this place is giving me major Texas vibes.”

I glance around the restaurant, taking in the rustic wooden beams, the cowhide barstools, and the tangy scent of barbecue in the air.

A neon sign on the wall proudly proclaims, “Don’t Mess With Texas”.

“Right?” Harlow beams. “When you said we were going to a barbecue joint, I knew I’d either love it or hate it.”

“I figured it was time to put some meat on those bones of yours.” I poke at her ribs playfully. “Can’t have you wasting away out there.”

“Please, like that would ever happen,” Harlow scoffs. “I’m a strong-ass woman through and through. We’re made of tougher stuff than that.”

It feels so damn good to have my girls together again, even if it’s only for a little while.

The server arrives then with a heaping tray of food—ribs, brisket, jalape?o cornbread, baked beans, the works.

My mouth starts watering at the sight of it.

“Looks like we’re gonna need a wheelbarrow to cart me outta here.” I whistle lowly as he sets the spread in front of us. “Haven’t had grub this good in ages.”

“That’s ‘cause you never learned to cook worth a damn,” Zoe ribs me as she grabs a saucy rib. “It’s a miracle you haven’t starved by now.”

“Hey, I’ve got skills where it counts.” I flash her a wicked grin before digging into the brisket with gusto.

The smoky meat practically melts on my tongue, the spices igniting my taste buds in the best way. “Besides, cooking is overrated. I’d rather let someone else do the hard work.”

“Of course you would.” Harlow shakes her head in amusement, reaching for the cornbread. “Some things never change.”

We settle into an easy silence then, too busy stuffing our faces to keep up the banter.

It’s a comfortable quiet, the kind that comes from years of friendship and shared history.

I savor each bite and sip, wishing I could bottle up this feeling, this moment—a full stomach, buzzing head, heart so damn happy I could burst.

Knowing my girls have my back, no matter what shit life throws my way.

For the first time in a long time, I feel like . . . maybe my luck is finally turning around.

“So, I know you wanted to change the subject and all, but I have to dig a little more.” Harlow leans forward with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “Please, for the love of God, give me the dirty deets.”

I groan internally, already regretting opening this particular can of worms.

Harlow’s not one to let things go, especially when she scents fresh gossip.

Zoe jumps in before I can deflect. “You already know Doc’s one of the guys in Spark’s MC. He’s a total DILF—all muscles and tattoos and broody intensity. And our girl here”—she jabs a finger at me—“has been thirsting after him for weeks now.”

The denial bursts out of me, but it rings hollow even to my own ears. “I have not!”

Zoe just smirks, entirely too pleased with herself.

“Uh-huh. That’s why you practically start drooling every time he walks into the room.”

My face flames hot, and I duck my head, letting my hair curtain forward to hide the incriminating blush.

It’s not my fault Doc is basically walking sex in worn jeans and scuffed boots.

The man exudes a raw, magnetic pull that snares my attention every damn time, no matter how hard I try to resist.

“It’s not like that,” I mumble, picking at the label on my beer bottle. “We’re just friends. He’s going through some stuff, and I’m trying to be there for him, that’s all.”

Harlow cocks her head, shrewd gaze raking over me. “Friends, huh? Is that why you’re lit up like a Christmas tree right now, just from one little text?”

I sputter, scrambling for a plausible excuse.

I’m drawing a total blank, my usually clever tongue tied in knots.

The truth is, she’s not wrong.

There’s something about Doc that just gets to me, burrowing past all my carefully constructed walls and defenses.

He makes me feel seen in a way I haven’t experienced in far too long.

Like he looks at me and actually sees me —not just the glossy exterior I project to the world but all the messy, aching, hopeful parts I try so hard to keep hidden.

It’s unnerving as hell.

“Look, he’s a great guy and an amazing dad,” I say finally, treading with care. “But really, I’m just helping him out. Sassy put him in a shit position, you know?”

Harlow looks between me and Zoe. “Sassy?”

Zoe wastes no time filling her in. “The clubwhore who Doc knocked up. She was a dumb, ratty bitch who turned on the club and tossed her son aside. Luckily, Doc’s the kind of man who takes care of his responsibilities.”

“Wow.” Harlow shakes her head in denial. “I can’t fucking believe how cruel some can be. I’m sure that little boy is better off without her.”

There’s no doubt in my mind that he is.

Harlow giggles. “You’d better hop on him soon, and I do mean on him. Men like that don’t stay single for long.”

I shake my head. “He’s just a friend, ladies.”

I’m dimly aware of Harlow and Zoe exchanging knowing glances over my head.

But I ignore them, focusing instead on the lie I’ve just spun.

Pretending it’s the truth.

Because deep down, I know I’m not ready for the alternative.

To face the terrifying reality that maybe—just maybe—my heart’s already long since been lost.

Lost to a man who might not ever be mine.

Lost to the ghost of a future that will never be.

Lost to the breaking tide of a love I’ll never fully know.

I don’t know what scares me more: the possibility of never having him or the risk of wanting him anyway.