Chapter Three

SHAY

"Sorry I'm late," Calli called as we busted through the front door of her dad's place. "The Gambler" by Kenny Rogers was blaring from the backyard, and I couldn't help but smile as several deep, out-of-tune voices sang along.

I followed Calli into the kitchen, leaning back against the counter as she dropped the grocery bags she was carrying and wrapped her arms around the large biker standing in front of the stove, pressing her cheek to the back of his leather cut. A tattooed arm reached back, wrapping around her. For a second, she closed her eyes and smiled.

"Hi, Daddy," she greeted, giving him a tight squeeze and stepping back, shoving his shoulder. "Now get out of the way and let me finish the eggs."

"I'm quite fucking capable of cooking eggs, Calliope," Bishop grumbled, though he still stepped away and let her take his place. He folded his arms across his chest. "Where have you been?"

Clearing my throat, I raised my hand. "Sorry. It's my fault. There was an incident at work, and Calli came to pick me up," I rambled, swallowing hard when Bishop turned his penetrating gaze toward me. Bishop was the kind of man who, if I hadn't met him personally, would make me cross the road when I was walking down the street. He was at least six foot with broad shoulders, a mess of tattoos, and a thick beard.

But the permanent scowl on his face sent my heart beating erratically like I'd had too many cups of coffee that morning.

He narrowed his eyes. "An incident."

"Yeah, it was noth—"

"She tackled a drunk guy who was waving around a knife," Calli sang as she pushed the scrambled eggs from the pan onto a serving plate. "Then she wouldn't let Matt numb her arm before he stitched it up." Calli grinned at me, knowing she'd dumped me in the deep end with her overprotective MC president father as she marched out of the room.

Bishop's eyes moved to the bandage wrapped around my bicep. "You get a name for this guy?"

I was already shaking my head, seeing the cogs turn over in Bishop's mind. Calli and I had been friends for years but only moved to Detroit six or so months ago after finishing college. In that time, I'd gotten to know Calli's family pretty damn well.

Her biker family, that is.

The Exiled Eight MC—a one-percent outlaw motorcycle club that lived by their own rules and laws.

While Calli and the club had welcomed me and made me feel like I was part of their family, I was well aware that people outside the club shouldn't feel as comfortable.

These men weren't the kind to be fucked with, and I'd seen more than one asshole at the club's bar learn that lesson the hard way.

I'd always admired Calli's tenacity and straightforward talk, but it all made so much sense after learning more about how she grew up, especially with a man like her dad.

Bishop. Exiled Eight MC president. A fuck you in human form.

I wasn't sure if I was the only one who felt it, but the atmosphere that swirled around him always felt thick to me. Being alone in a room with him made it hard for me to breathe, but given how we met, I shouldn't be surprised.

I trudged up the staircase to the left. The timber treads creaked and groaned with each step. The upstairs hallway wasn't much better, and my light footsteps sounded like an elephant's as I headed for the far door, but something caught my eye to the left. I paused.

The door to the bathroom was open, just a crack.

Just enough for me to see someone inside.

He had his eyes closed and was scrubbing at his hair with a towel, his body completely naked. And what a body it was. His shoulders were muscular and chest broad, also covered with a smattering of hair that was slightly gray. My heart began to thump a little faster, heat crawling up my neck and into my cheeks as my eyes trailed a little lower, finding abs that looked like they'd been etched out of stone, with another small trail of hair leading from his stomach to his—

"Who the hell are you?"

My eyes shot up, drawn to the deep rumble of his voice that did little to calm the pounding in my chest. I was met by a dark, narrowed glare so intense I dropped my backpack and stumbled backward into the wall. "Um… I'm…"

He reached for a pair of jeans, yanking them over his legs, which were still dripping with water. He buttoned them as he stormed toward me, slamming his hands against the wall on either side of my head, making me gasp. "Who. Are. You? And why the hell are you in my house?" he growled, with his body pressed against mine. I could feel the water \ on his skin soak through my T-shirt.

I couldn't speak.

My mouth was dry, and I licked my lips, hoping that would help me find the words I needed to explain. The movement drew his gaze, which fell to my lips while he clenched his jaw. Maybe I should have been scared. Maybe I should have screamed for help.

But I'd been scared before, and what I felt in that moment wasn't fear.

It was something else.

Something else completely.

"Shay! Are you okay? What's all that noise?"

"Fuck," he cursed, instantly falling back at the sound of the stairs moving as Calli climbed them.

"Oh hey, Dad." She beamed when she reached the top, the concern on her face melting away the second she saw her father.

Her father, Shay.

The naked man you'd just been eyeing.

Who'd just had you pinned to the freaking wall.

She hurried forward, throwing her arms around him. He picked her up and squeezed her tightly before placing her feet back on the floor. "Where's your ride?" Calli questioned when she stepped back.

"Across the street at Hawk's place," he replied, dragging his fingers through the long, wet hair that had fallen into his face and pulling it back. He stepped back into the bathroom and grabbed the folded white T-shirt on the counter, shaking it out and pulling it over his head. "Kadey's tryna earn some money for some school trip, so paid her to clean it."

Calli's eyebrows shot up. "You agreed to let an eight-year-old touch your motorcycle?"

Bishop shrugged. "Hawk said he'd supervise, so he's culpable for damages."

Calli laughed, shaking her head before finally turning to me. "I see you met Shay, finally," she introduced. "Shay, this is my dad, Bishop."

"It's ni—" My voice cracked, and I cleared it before trying again. "It's nice to meet you."

He nodded, holding eye contact with me in a ‘we are going to pretend that didn't happen' kind of way. "Likewise."

I bobbed my head up and down several times, letting him know I heard him loud and clear, though my heart hadn't caught on. It was still racing so fast I was starting to feel a little dizzy.

I'd just seen my best friend's dad naked.

The heat began to burn at my cheeks again at the thought of his toned body and the water dripping down over his skin. Holy crap.

I quickly snatched my bag up off the floor and backed away. "I'm just gonna put this away."

"Okay… I'll meet you downstairs. We definitely need to go to the store."

Bishop shrugged on his leather vest over his shirt, watching me intently as I took one step after another back toward the bedroom. Calli was already heading for the stairs, clearly unable to feel the swirling storm in the air around us.

It was unlike anything I'd ever felt before.

It wasn't like I wasn't confident around boys. For the most part, they were usually intimidated by how I held myself, but there was a difference.

Bishop wasn't a boy.

He was a man.

A man who I shouldn't be thinking about that way.

My best friend's father.

"Shay."

Bishop's sharp tone made me jump, and I blinked a few times, bringing his face back into focus. "Yeah. I mean, no. I don't know his name. The cops came. They took him away. I managed to keep him from hurting anyone but me, so it's all fine."

"It's not fine."

"Look, I've had the lecture from Calli and my boss," I protested, folding my arms across my chest to mirror his stance, flinching when the stitches tugged painfully. "Goddammit. There were kids around and people looking scared. People shouldn't be scared in a hospital. A hospital is a place where they should feel safe. But I just… I don't need to be told again. Next time, I'll run away. I'll hide or something, okay?"

He waited for a beat before raising his eyebrows. "You done?"

I cleared my throat, standing a little straighter. "Yeah."

"Good," he snapped, tucking his hands into his pockets as he leaned back against the kitchen counter. "Because what I was going to say was it's not fine, but I would have done the same fucking thing, so I'm not about to sit here and lecture you. I've known bigger, burlier bastards who would have used their mother as a shield before they would risk their own lives for anyone else."

I barked out a laugh. "Thanks, I think."

"But," he cut in, leaning forward. "I'm gonna get a name."

Rolling my eyes, I let out a heavy sigh. "Can't you just leave it alone? Why do you need to know who he was?"

His eyes darkened, and he took a couple of steps toward me. "Because he hurt you."

I swallowed hard at his admission, feeling my breathing pick up as he drew closer, barely able to get the next word to leave my mouth. "And…"

He clenched his jaw for a moment, his eyes searching my face as he seemed to consider his answer.

"Shay," Calli called from somewhere in the house, her heavy footsteps moving quickly toward us.

Bishop instantly fell back, his hands curling into fists. "You're Calli's best friend. You're important to her, so you're important to the club."

My shoulders slumped. I understood. The club was protective of its members and their families.

I guess that included me.

I just didn't know why that answer made me feel so disappointed.

"I got it!" Calli appeared suddenly in the doorway to the kitchen, her eyes watery and a wide grin on her face, waving her phone in the air. "I got it!"

"No way," I replied, shaking my head as the smile on my face grew to mirror hers. I bounced toward her. "You got it?"

Bishop cleared his throat. "I'm going to need you to hurry up and be a little more specific as to exactly what you got," he ordered, each word spoken slowly and with purpose.

"I got an internship with this television network in New York City!" Calli explained, bouncing on her toes. "It's for three months, and they want me to fly in next weekend and start next Monday!" Calli had been twisting herself in knots, waiting to hear about this opportunity. There were only two spaces, and at least five hundred people applied.

It was a once in a lifetime. And I was so damn happy for her.

Bishop walked over and wrapped his arm around her neck, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Fucking proud of you, kiddo."

She stepped back and looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "Thanks, Dad," she whispered, but suddenly that smile dropped. "Oh my God, Shay. I don't want to leave you alone in the apartment. I know you don't like—"

I waved her off. "I'll be fine," I argued before she could out me as a scaredy cat, but I would deal with it for the next few months. "I'll get a camera or a dog, or I'll just take all the night shifts and sleep during the day. You are going to take this damn job come hell or high water."

The smile began to form again, and she ran at me, the both of us colliding in laughter. "We are going out on Tuesday night to celebrate before I have to leave. I can't believe it! I can't!"

"I can. You're amazing. Of course they wanted you!"

Calli deserved it. She was the most genuine person I knew. She had big dreams but was also the kind of woman who was willing to work her ass off to achieve them and not compromise her values on the way to the top.

There was a loud pop, and we both jumped, spinning around to find Bishop with a bottle of champagne in one hand and the cork in the other. "Thought it was time I pulled out the good shit."

"Yes," she exclaimed, grabbing the bottle and rushing out toward the backyard, where I knew all the boys from the club would be. It's where they were every Sunday without fail.

Apparently, it was a tradition Calli's mom started when she and Bishop started dating.

She died when Calli was young, and they've continued it ever since, which honestly warmed my heart in ways I'd never experienced before.

Bishop reached up into one of the cupboards and grabbed some wine glasses, making me chuckle.

He glanced back at me, and I quickly covered my mouth. "Sorry," I said, another laugh breaking through before I could stop it. "Sorry, it's just that we both know by the time you get out there, they'll all just be taking shots from the bottle."

He paused, a smirk briefly tugging at the corner of his mouth, surprising me. Then he placed the glasses back down. "Goddamn bikers," he cursed, though I know he meant it as a joke. "You sure you're gonna be okay on your own at the apartment? Calli said—"

"I'll be okay," I assured him, though I wasn't sure I was very convincing because he raised his eyebrows. "Like I said, I'll probably move many of my shifts to night shifts."

He nodded. "Well, there's room here if you need it."

I smiled. The invitation was gruff but genuine. "I appreciate it."

Calli's voice echoed through the house. "Shay, come on!"

He stepped to the side and nodded. "Go."

I knew I should, but there was this pull holding me there, keeping my feet from moving.

One foot at a time, I eased myself toward the hall. I was like fighting gravity. Like the universe knew something I didn't.

Maybe one day, I'd find out what.

But not that day.