19. Riley

nineteen

Riley

Watching Cam and Merc ride away from the house left a tug of longing inside me. How could I miss a guy I hardly knew? If I thought about it, it was almost embarrassing how a few bouts of sex left me feeling like a clingy, hormonal teenager. I was a smart, independent woman. Wasn't I?

Of course you are.

This was crazy. Yet the pit in my stomach was only trumped by the excited ripples of anticipation that he'd come home. The promises of the dark, of Cam, were enough to force me to swallow hard while standing in AP's kitchen.

"You ready?" Dylan gave me an easy smile when she came back in, stopping to drop a kiss to her dad's cheek. "Puck and Drop Top are at the house already, playing cards on the back patio."

"Don't let them get too drunk."

She scrunched her nose. "Puck barely drinks."

"It's not him I'm worried about." He snorted.

"True. Love you."

"You too." Then to me. "Take care, Riley."

"I will. Thank you for inviting me."

There was a softness to AP in that moment. Beer left his eyes red rimmed and took the edge from the way his lips curved. Here was home. He was just a man watching his daughter and her friend get ready to leave after a happy night with his family. The gangster, wild ass biker, was gone, the family man in his place. I could see him bouncing grandchildren on his knee with candy in his pockets.

Had I been raised here, known my father, AP would be that protective uncle I'd never had. Something in my heart swelled, and I stopped to give him a quick hug.

"You're always welcome here, kiddo."

I choked back the tears as he hugged me back and hurried out of the house before I cried. Family, like this, was something I'd never experienced. All of it was new, fresh, and flying at me all at once.

"He likes you."

I glanced back at the house as Dylan directed me to a shiny, new, white Jeep with the doors and roof pulled off. "I like him. AP's nice and makes me feel like I could belong here."

She stopped with the hood of the white Jeep between us. "I wasn't talking about my dad."

***

The ride home, as that's what Archer's house was beginning to feel like, was a somber one. I felt like everything had been going well, and now Cam's words echoed back to me. You're going to get me in trouble. I couldn't shake the feeling that there were things they weren't telling me. Before we walked under the carport, I stopped. Puck and Drop Top played cards at the table near the back door, and the faint scent of weed wafted to the driveway.

"Is something bothering you?" Genuine concern made my chest a little tight. It had been years since I had a real girlfriend. I hadn't kept in touch with anyone from high school. By the time Mom got sick…there was just too much distance to conquer.

"Cam's being sketchy, has been since you got here. I thought at first it was grief, but now I'm not so sure." She took a deep breath, looking anywhere but at me.

"He's got you on the back of his bike during an MC thing, has you wearing his first leather to family dinner." She worried her bottom lip. "Cam's never made that sort of statement."

An unexpected pressure settled on me. I wasn't stupid. Other women around the club were more experienced, had more to offer him than I did. I wasn't a Krystal or any of her friends. But now I felt like maybe I needed to be.

I was stumbling through all of this the best I could.

"I told you, around here, things are different. You're wearing something of his, on his bike—you're his property. It makes you his old lady. It's just the way things work here. Guys pass the groupies around. But an old lady? You don't fuck with an old lady. No one does."

There wasn't anyone else I'd want to mess around with, not now.

But there was more here, a lot she wasn't saying.

The secondary set of rules and laws these people lived by made my brain hurt. But somewhere inside, the thought of that thrilled me. He'd chosen me.

"Do you have feelings for him?" The question was quiet.

I didn't immediately respond. The truth was, my answer was terrifying. Yes, I had feelings. I didn't understand them, not yet, but it wasn't Cam they were going to be a problem for.

"Cam puts on a good show, but he's not like some of the other guys. The life he lived before the Kings was…bad."

That she knew things I didn't, stung. They'd been friends for years; I'd only known him a few weeks. But I'd shared my trauma with Cam. I'd never seen past his patch, past the mask of indifference. Other than what little Ro had told me.

"And you're just going to leave." Dylan's tone was so stiff and angry I flinched against it.

"I haven't made a single promise to him." It was all I had to offer. Even if tonight had been the first time I'd felt connected to anywhere since Mom died, Dry Valley wasn't my home.

"Have you slept with him?" She pushed a little too far.

Pissed off now, my jaw tightened, and my nostrils flared. "That's none of your business. And even if it was, we're talking about a man that a few days ago was having a go at two random groupies in his apartment."

She recoiled like I threw something at her.

"For what its worth, I'm not some femme fatale sent to destroy his life and make a mockery of your world. Hell, until I came here, I was a virgin."

"I didn't mean…" She faltered and screwed up her brow.

"Then what, Dylan? All I've heard now is all the things I'm doing wrong with a guy I barely know from a woman who doesn't know me at all."

"He's got a lot to lose with all of this." No stuttering there, she said it with feeling.

"Until a few weeks ago, I was homeless. He's not the only one."

"All I know is I see someone I love gearing up to do something stupid." Defiance flared on her pretty face.

"He's a smart man. I'm sure he knows exactly what he's doing."

I stormed toward the door and turned to Puck, the large, muscled tattoo artist. "You can all get lost. I don't need babysitters."

He sighed, leaned back into his chair, and gave a solemn shake of his head. "Sorry, but you'll have to take that up with Savage."

I swallowed my scream of frustration and stormed inside. It was petty and childish, but I slammed the door before locking it.

***

I was lost in my own head. Right when I thought everything made sense…Cam happened. He was the storm that came through and blew apart all my carefully put together plans.

I wanted him to touch me again.

I wanted to strangle him.

Maybe both at the same time.

His presence was the sort of thing that could be felt before I heard him. Even now, though he was so quiet the floorboards didn't even creak, I knew he was in the doorway before I bothered to look up.

"Heard you gave my guys some shit." More tired irritation than accusation.

"I don't like being held captive."

"They gave you space."

"Yup." Pettiness meant I didn't look up, only stared at his worn dark boots and the faded jeans he wore. I stopped before I looked at the rest of him—didn't trust myself. He'd turned me into a puddle not long ago, and he could do it again. I wasn't that girl, even if I wanted to be.

"We going to talk about it?" He said it so low, I almost questioned if I heard right.

Cam was giving me an opening. I could shout and rave about how I felt. The problem was, I didn't know. Part of me was excited, part of me terrified, but really, but mostly focused on surviving the next few weeks with some sense of normalcy intact.

"I left your jacket in the kitchen." I had draped it across one of the kitchen chairs.

"It's yours. I gave it to you."

"Why?" This time I did look at him, caught his gaze and held it. Something sizzled between us as I sat on the bed and he leaned against the door jam.

He pushed his fingers through his hair and looked away, dropping his hand to massage the bend of his neck. He still wore the vest, the crisp Vice President patch standing out against the other faded ones. I focused on the bright white threads to keep from getting lost in the way his tongue ran across his bottom lip or how his chest heaved as he released a sigh.

It was like every little thing he did appealed to me.

"It's a jacket. You didn't have one." Clipped. Short. No nonsense. That was the end of that.

But I wasn't finished. I'd waited all night to clear all this up. "And bringing me to AP's on your bike?"

This time he caught my gaze. His eyes were icy, the cold running all the way through me. The sort of thing that would scare a normal person. Instead, I sat up on the bed, inching a little closer.

"Notice the way Preacher looks at you? How at the clubhouse, guys circle you like sharks?"

The old guy was a creeper for sure, some of the others too.

"Would you rather be a groupie? Be like Krystal, get passed around for a good time? Because if that's what you want, I'll take the jacket back."

"Oh." I had hoped…for something more after everything that happened between us. Which was na?ve.

"If you'd rather ride with someone else…" He let that thought fall off with a lazy roll of his shoulder.

I narrowed my eyes. No, I didn't. But judging by the mischief that danced across his arrogant expression now, he knew it.

The insolent way he watched me as he lounged against the door frame was infuriating.

"This make me your old lady?"

"Is that what you want?"

I cocked my head to the side and pursed my lips, mocking him with my own bratty expression. I should be tired. The argument with Dylan had drained me. But the truth was, I wanted this. To be his old lady, at least while I was here.

Being with Cam was the most alive I'd ever felt. "If you're going to make me stand out, at least treat me like I earned it."

His red-rimmed eyes narrowed, and his upper lip curled just enough to flash his teeth. My heart sped up, tripping over itself so that I trembled. It didn't matter what label he gave me, the second he looked at me like I was good enough to eat…all bets were off.