Chapter 7

CHAPTER

SEVEN

DILLION

The girls appear in my driveway, and I stare at them in shock. I didn’t expect to see them at all, let alone realize that any of them knew where I lived. I’m also not dressed for a party, but I can’t look away from them.

I’m frozen at my window, watching as they all pile out of an SUV, including another girl I haven’t met yet. I assume she's the one who they said worked at Sal’s Bar.

Blinking, I watch as they move toward my front door. I don’t know how they found me, but they’re here. They move as one unit, and I can’t help but stare at them in complete and total awe.

Then my doorbell rings.

My entire body jumps, and my feet even leave the floor at the sound. I expected it, anticipated it, and yet it scared the shit out of me. My feet carry me toward the front door before I even realize I’m moving.

Reaching for the knob, I twist it and tug the door open. I’m met with four smiling faces—three that I recognize from yesterday and one that is new.

“This is Kyle,” Spencer announces. “She’s the fourth in our group.”

Smiling, I reach out to offer my hand, but she doesn’t take it. Instead, she moves forward and wraps her arms around my shoulders, giving me a hug. I follow suit, hugging her back even though I’m pretty confused.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” she murmurs.

“It’s nice to meet you, too.”

A few moments later, they’re in my room, and my closet is being riffled through. I have four options for an outfit, and I’m stripped down and trying them on, one by one. There is a lot of humming, switching of tops and bottoms, and then it’s settled.

I’m left in a pair of short shorts and a low scooped-neck T-shirt that hugs every part of me and leaves not even an inch to the imagination. It’s not something I would usually wear. I actually bought the shirt as an undershirt kind of thing to wear an oversized flannel over. It was never meant to be worn on its own.

“You look amazing,” Shawn announces.

I almost laugh, but I don’t. Instead, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I don’t look terrible. I could be a bit thinner. My boobs could be bigger. A lot of things could be… but they aren’t. Turning my head, I look over my shoulder at the women.

“It’s as good as it’ll get,” I say with a laugh.

“Oh, please,” Spencer says with a roll of her eyes. “You’re hot.”

“And you know it,” Ryan finishes.

Shaking my head, I can’t believe them, but it’s sweet. Reaching for my small handbag, I switch my things over and turn toward them. “Are we ready?” I ask.

“You don’t see it,” Shawn murmurs. “That’s okay. You will.”

“See what?” I ask.

She smiles, her gaze searching mine. “Just how beautiful you are. I didn’t think I was anything special either until I met my Elvis. I’ve never felt more beautiful in my own skin, and I’ve had two children. It’s all because of him.”

“My Grover makes me feel the same way. The confidence that fills me when he looks at me, when he touches me, is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before,” Spencer whispers. “It’s all I ever wanted.”

Their words, although they shouldn’t, fill me with hope. So much hope. Pressing my lips together, I think about them, then shift my attention to my reflection again. I can’t let myself hope. I tamp down the feeling. I can’t hope because I need to be strong enough to leave.

And if that man from yesterday even glances at me again, I might not leave. I might become consumed with false hope and stay. I can’t stay. I need to get out. I need to move on. I need to find myself. I need to figure out my life and be somewhere where nobody knows my name.

Nobody knows my family.

A place where nobody even sees me.

“I can take my own car,” I call out as we walk from the house toward the porch, locking the front door behind me.

“You’ll come with us. There will be a million people who can take you home,” Spencer says.

“If you even want to be taken home,” Ryan mutters under her breath.

I almost laugh, but I don’t. I’m sure I will be brought home. There is no way I would spend the night there, not even with that completely sexy hot guy. Not that he would give me the time of day… or night.

But instead of arguing with them, I climb into the back of the SUV. As soon as we’re all loaded up, the women start chattering with each other. They are friends. They love one another, and you can almost feel that love filling the car.

It’s beautiful.

These women are beautiful inside and out.

I couldn’t imagine having friends like them in my life for real. I’ve never had people like this before. I’ve never had women beside me. If I close my eyes, I can almost pretend this is real. That they give a shit about me, that they are my friends, or at least friends to be made and kept.

It’s a fantasy. I know it is because it can never be a reality. But it’s a fantasy that I allow myself, just for tonight.

We pull into the clubhouse parking lot. The SUV is parked behind a line of motorcycles. I don’t know what to do or say, so I decide to stay quiet. I do what I do best and melt into the background.

Climbing out of the car behind the women, I follow them into the bar. There is loud music swirling around me, but it doesn’t bother me. In fact, I quite like it. There is so much action in the place that I know I can get lost—easily.

So, I decide that’s exactly what I’ll do—get lost.

Until that perfect specimen of a man is standing in front of me. Slowly, I tilt my head backward until my eyes meet his. Pressing my thighs together, I wonder if I can even stand in front of him for more than a moment before my knees give out.

He reaches out, touching his finger to the center of my chin. I can’t even breathe, he’s so damn beautiful. I’ve never been around a man so sexy before, and I’ve been around some handsome men.

“You came.” His voice, while being rough and rugged, is also as smooth and thick as honey.

“Yeah,” I exhale.

CLINK

The music surrounds us, but I can’t hear a single fucking thing. Not over the sound of my heart pumping in my chest, the blood roaring throughout my entire being, and then there are her fucking eyes.

They own me.

“You want a drink?” I ask.

It’s a lot fucking easier when I am sneaking into her room and fucking her until she screams. That shit is easy. This is harder. This reminds me of the fact that I indeed spent three years in prison, and before that, I didn’t date.

I don’t know how to do that shit.

I want her to want me the way the other old ladies want my brothers. I just don’t know how they’ve done that. I want to make this shit work without telling her that I fucking own her. I want this to work without her ever knowing that.

“Sure,” she signs.

Instead of turning my back to her and walking toward the bar, I do something I never thought I would ever do… in a million goddamn years. I reach for her hand, lacing my fingers with hers, and walk toward the bar. Then through the whole clubhouse, although most of the guys are focused on their own shit, not on us. However, I know there will be some people who will be watching us.

They can watch away.

This is exactly what the fuck I want. My woman on my arm, my club at my back. This is fucking perfect. I couldn’t imagine a better life than this shit. It’s everything I dreamed about in prison. I never imagined it could be possible, but here it fucking is, and here we fucking are.

Placing my hand on the small of her back, I turn to her, touching my lips to the side of the shell of her ear. “What do you want, baby?” I ask.

I hear her breath hitch, and I can’t help but wonder if she recognizes me yet. Even if she doesn’t right now, I am sure that she will when I touch her, when I kiss her, when I slide inside of her and stretch her body, when I feel every inch of her.

Because I will be feeling every fucking inch of her tonight.

Every goddamn inch.

Looking at her, I watch her profile as her eyes search the contents of the bar. I almost laugh, knowing there’s absolutely nothing girlie here. She turns her head, her eyes finding mine.

I press my lips together, trying not to laugh.

She’s so goddamn cute, and seeing her this close in the light is so fucking surreal.

“Maybe just a light beer?”

“You want some wine or something?” I ask. “A shot?”

Her eyes widen. “You go from wine to a shot?” she asks.

Shrugging a shoulder, I tilt my head to the side. “What do you think?” I ask.

“A shot, then some wine?”

My lips twitch. “A shot and some beer. I don’t want you to get sick.”

Lifting my hand, I motion for the prospect behind the bar. Ordering a bottle of tequila, I also ask for a bowl of limes and two beers. Dillion grabs the beers while I get the rest. Jerking my chin, I tell her to follow me. I don’t even try to take her to a table in the bar. I know exactly where I want her.

I guide her straight to my bedroom—where she belongs.

Standing beside the door, I wait for her to walk into the room. She stops in the hall, her gaze swinging from the doorway to me, then back to the doorway and back to me. “I’m not going to sleep with you,” she announces.

She has no fucking clue that she’s already slept with me. I don’t say anything to her. Instead, I just shrug a shoulder. “Baby, I don’t even know your name,” I lie.

“You’re far too smooth. You’re not getting me drunk and having your way with me.”

“Yeah?” I ask. “Okay.”

Her tongue sneaks out, sliding across her bottom lip, and then, as if her decision is made, she walks into my bedroom. I watch her go, enjoying the way those shorts hug her ass. Carrying the bottle of tequila and limes, I know this is going to be the night that solidifies us and seals everything.

This is the night when I claim her as mine.

This is the night when I take her.

This is the night when she sees me.