Chapter 44

Griff’s “welcome back”party has so far been a success. The bar’s full of people. No customers, just friends from all the different social circles Remy and Griff navigate.

At the back door, I give Juliet a quick embrace. “Are you sure you guys have to leave so early?” I ask, feeling guilty that I haven’t seen her a lot since Griff and I got back together.

She glances out into the parking lot where Vapor’s talking to Eraser next to his Harley.

“I promised the sitter we wouldn’t be out too late. Let’s do something if you come home next weekend?”

“I’d like that.”

“Good.” She hugs me again.

I hold the door open and watch her cross the parking lot to Vapor’s bike. He starts the engine, the distinctive rumble deafening even from half a parking lot away.

I close the door and pivot on my toes, intent on returning to the party.

And smack right into someone.

“Shoot.” I glance up into Torch’s apologetic face.

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you.”

Oh, this is bad. Embarrassment, guilt, and anger all take a spin in my chest.

I clench my jaw and stare at him. “Why?”

“Look, I’m sorry. I realize what you overheard the other day sounded bad.” He blows a puff of air past his lips. “Really, I was just trying to save face in front of Griff.” He chuckles. “I mean save my face.”

My expression stays the same.

“Yes, your brother asked me to take you out. But like I said, I was going to ask you out, anyway. Just maybe not right after everything that happened.” He waves his hand over his shoulder.

“You could’ve told me.”

He tilts his head.

Right, everyone’s scared to challenge Remy.

Everyone except Griff.

Guilt needles me in the ribs. “Well, I’m sorry too.”

“Why?” He lifts his eyebrows. “Because you were using me to get over Griff?”

My jaw drops. That’s not quite how I was going to put it.

“I don’t care, Molly,” he continues when I still haven’t said anything. “I was fine with it. Figured you’d get over him, eventually. Or not.”

This is the worst conversation of my life.

“We’re still going to run into each other.” He circles one finger in the air. “So, friends?”

What else am I supposed to say? He’s right. “Sure.”

He opens his arms and leans in like he’s going to hug me. Oh, that’s not happening. I sidestep the embrace.

“Got it,” he says.

“I need to get back…” I keep walking sideways. Other people in the hallway glance over at us, but no one says anything.

Ugh, that was awful.

I speed walk into the main room, my steps slowing as I hit the crowd. Bikers, fighters, and racers from Zips fill the space. I recognize a few of the women and wave.

Remy lifts his hand, signaling to me from his place behind the bar. Instead of throwing up the middle finger I want, I glare at him.

Confusion wrinkles his forehead.

Good, let him wonder.

I’m so focused on shooting lasers out of my eyeballs, I slam into someone else. By the height, feel, and arms that close around me, it’s Griff.

“I was getting worried about you.”

“I’m fine,” I mumble against his shirt, taking comfort in his warm, solid presence.

He keeps his arm around me while he signals Remy to hand him drinks. Then we make our way over to my favorite table in the back.

“Hey, Griff.” Someone stops us briefly.

Griff keeps moving. “I’ll catch you in a minute.”

We stop at the table and Griff nudges me to slide into the booth first. Good. It’s dark enough in this corner to hide my face. My gaze scans the back hallway I just came from. Did Torch leave? Is that where he was headed when I ran into him?

“Did I tell you how pretty you look tonight?” Griff says, sliding all the way into the booth. I scooch over until I can’t go any farther.

My lips twitch. “Yes, but I don’t mind hearing it again.”

“I’d rather show you.” He leans down and presses his lips to mine. Soft and gentle at first, then slowly becoming more insistent. He trails kisses along my jaw, to my neck.

A pleasurable shiver races over my skin, momentarily making me forget where we are.

Griff isn’t usually this affectionate in public. Hold my hand, yes. Grab a quick kiss, sure. His teeth grazing my neck in front of everyone—not so much.

I press my hand to his chest. Not really pushing him away, more like a reminder to myself to stay in control, since he’s apparently lost his in public switch. “What are you doing?” My eyelids flutter shut from the shivery sensation of his tongue on that sensitive spot right below my ear.

He dips his head lower, brushing his lips in the crook of my neck. “Kissing my girl.”

“In front of everyone?” I pry my eyelids open and stare around the bar. It’s kind of dark at our corner table, but we’re not exactly invisible. A few Lost Kings at a nearby table glance over and smirk at us, but no one says anything. Some are involved with their own significant others and not paying us any attention.

“Everyone here should know you’re mine,” he whispers.

Is this some weird biker ritual? Or…oh, no. Did he see me talking to Torch? Is he worried some guys might think I was with Torch? Thanks to Remy’s embarrassing plan, everyone probably knows Torch was only “dating” me because my brother asked him to act like my babysitter. Does that somehow make Griff look “bad” to these guys?

“If you’re worried about Torch, I’m sure everyone knows he was only pretending to date me,” I say, casting another stink-eye toward Remy, even though he’s too busy behind the bar to notice this time.

That stops Griff from exploring all my sensitive spots with his tongue. He pulls back, his large frame hiding me from a good portion of the room. “I don’t give a fuck about him.” His eyes glitter with challenge. “Do you?”

“Not like that.” I slide my hand over his heart, feeling the steady thudding against my palm. “I just don’t want to feel like a fire hydrant you’re marking.”

Surprise or maybe hurt flashes in his eyes. “Is that what you think?” He leans close. “I hate to break it to you, but I always have a hard time keeping my hands off of you. And I already told you, it’s not true. The only person that orange-haired motherfucker was doing a ‘favor’ for was himself.”

Why bother protesting? Torch just said almost the same thing, but I can’t stop wondering if Remy put him up to that too. “Griff?—”

“Stop.” He slams his lips over mine and slides his hand through my hair, cradling the back of my head.

I’m absolutely breathless when he finally pulls away.

“I love you so fucking much, Muffin.” He teases his fingers through my hair, rubbing my scalp with the pads of his fingers in a gentle, hypnotic way. “I’m so happy the show is behind me. I don’t have to hide in public or worry about someone taking pictures and posting them online. It’s an enormous weight off my shoulders.”

I hadn’t—but should’ve—realized the constraints bothered him that much. “You seemed to still go where you wanted.”

“Not really, and when I did, I was constantly worried some asshole would grab a picture.”

And yet, he still came to visit me at school.

“So, making out with me at your welcome back party is how you want to celebrate?”

His lips tilt into the slow, cocky grin I usually can’t resist. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“One fight with Remy this month wasn’t enough for you?”

He touches his cheek, gently probing the bruised skin. “Yeah, I can’t do that again. Glad we finally got it out of the way.” He taps his forehead. “I need to be laser focused from now on.”

“Me too. Finals are coming up and I’m freaking out a little.”

His eyebrows draw down. “Is coming home on the weekends messing with your study time?”

Probably. But I don’t want to say that.

“Be honest,” Griff warns.

He knows me too well.

“It’s loud in the dorms on the weekends. But Sundays, I should probably spend more time in the library.”

“If it’s that bad on the weekends, why don’t you let me rent you a hotel room? You could go there and study.”

Is he out of his mind? “I don’t want to waste money on that.”

“If it helps, you get some work done, then it’s not a waste.”

“I can study at home too.” I poke him in the chest. “I just like spending time with you more.”

“And I enjoy spending time with you too.” He pulls an exaggerated sad face. “But you know how mad I’ll be if you don’t get an A in all of your classes because of me?”

“A’s in everything is a bit optimistic, but I know what you mean.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a man approaching our booth. He stands quietly with his hands folded in front of him like a soldier—if soldiers wore all black and had throat tattoos.

Griff jerks his head to the side, noticing the guy. “Hang on a sec, Muffin.” Griff stands to talk to the dark-haired, dark-eyed man who seems vaguely familiar. Their conversation’s too low to hear over the other noise, but when Griff moves sideways, I recognize him from Zips. Black Mercedes Guy. He races often and frequently loses. Eraser told my brother to keep his eye on this guy at some point. But now he and Griff seem to be pals?

“Is this the girlfriend?” BMG says to Griff.

Griff hesitates, then curls his fingers, motioning me closer. I slide out of the booth, happy I wore jeans instead of a dress since I’ve gotten in and out of this booth at least fifty times tonight, and stand next to Griff.

“Quill, this is my girlfriend, Molly. Molly, this is Quill. He loaned me the Mercedes for your prom.”

“Ah.” Quill wags a finger in the air. “I didn’t loan it. You won it,” he says in one of the smoothest voices I’ve ever heard.

Griff nods and ducks his head. “True.”

“Borrowed or won, it was still really nice. Thank you so much,” I say.

“Not a problem.” He dips his chin. “Nice to meet you, Molly.”

Quill slaps Griff’s shoulder, then turns and melts into the party.

“He seems nice,” I say, then lower my voice. “But isn’t he the guy Eraser wanted you guys to watch at the track?”

Griff nods for me to sit in the booth again. “You don’t miss anything, huh?”

“I know you guys think I don’t listen or pay attention, but I do.”

He slips his arm around me. “I’ll have to remember that.”

“You never really answered my question.”

His lips quirk. “Yes, there were some concerns, but I think they have it under control. You forget, I wasn’t here for a few months.” He lifts his chin at the bar. “If Remy invited him, I assume things are cool.”

“Okay.”

After a few minutes, Griff’s easy attitude slides into something more serious. He pulls his arm away and shifts his body so he’s facing me. “Hey, don’t get mad, but I need to talk to you about something.”

With anyone else, don’t get mad would be a sure sign someone’s about to say something to piss you off. But I trust Griff. Even so, my stomach clenches with anxiety. “What?”

He rubs his hand over my thigh, the heat from his skin warming me through my jeans. It’s more of a nervous gesture than an affectionate one, which jacks up my anxiety even more.

“Everything’s been so good, I haven’t wanted to bring this up. But now that the reunion’s behind us and I’m back to work, I need to know what you want to do about your car.”

Guilt punches me in the chest.

How could I forget what I did to my beautiful car?

Griff’s right. Things have been good. Busy but wonderful. After the reunion and what Griff confessed after I hit Kiki, I haven’t thought about the destruction I caused again. How could I forget the mess I left for him to clean up?

“Hey, hey, hey, baby, look at me.” Griff takes my hands in his. “I’m not trying to upset you, but I need to know. I ordered everything I need to repair it?—”

My eyes flare in surprise. “You did?”

“Well, yeah. If you don’t want it, I still need to get it in saleable condition.”

He should probably sell it to someone who will appreciate it. I don’t deserve it after what I did. “I’ll pay you back.”

“What?” His face screws into a mix of confusion and outrage. “Molly, I don’t give a fuck about money. If you keep it, is it going to remind you of that night every time you look at it? Because if it is, I don’t want that for you.”

I hadn’t even considered that possibility.

“I know you’ve got your little Bronco Sport, which is much more practical for you,” he continues, “but you can keep the Malibu to race at Zips or to drive in the summer. Whatever you want.”

Hope expands in my chest. “Will you let me help you fix it?” I ask.

His face breaks into a wide grin. “Yeah, of course. It can be our spring break project when you’re home from school.”

“I’d like that.”

“You sure it won’t bring up bad feelings for you?” he asks, his eyes boring into me, seeking a truthful answer.

Nothing but love and concern flows through the question. Will I look at the car and remember that awful night? Maybe. But I’ll also always remember that it’s a symbol of Griff’s love and forgiveness.

“No, I think if anything, it’ll be a reminder that we really are unbreakable.”