by Romi Hart
“You know that’s not who I am. So, that’s Zeke, the biker. Damn, no wonder you’ve been mourning him. That is probably the hottest man I’ve seen in person in my entire life.”
Leigh couldn’t hold back her smile. “He is gorgeous, isn’t he?”
Rory pointed to the flowers in her arms. “And he just happened to show up with those, and now you’re going to dinner?”
He had to have gone to a lot of trouble, getting dressed up, walking around on that knee, and finding out what her ‘backup flower favorite’ was from Nancy. If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought he was after her heart and not her body. “It’s kind of nice,” she admitted. “For the record, he doesn’t dress like that every day.”
“Then he came to impress. And it worked. You must be something special in his eyes.” Leigh doubted that, but she didn’t really care. Maybe one more night together would work him out of her system, and she could move on. Rory was still rambling on, and Leigh tried to focus on what she had to say. “I know you’re busy, and I get it. I also know you spent some time with that man of yours—”
“He’s not my man,” Leigh interrupted.
Rory snorted. “You might need to tell him that. Anyway, you’re low on time. I’ll just leave this with you. Go eat before you have to get back to work.” She held up the bag of food, which smelled delicious and made Leigh’s stomach growl.
“Thanks, Rory. You’re a savior.” She hugged her friend and followed her toward the elevators, the break room past the vestibule.
“Leigh!”
Leigh stopped, freezing in place. She knew that voice, better than she wanted to, and her skin crawled. She almost kept going, but the call came again, closer this time, and she knew she couldn’t move fast enough to escape. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she turned to face the oncoming nightmare.
She waited as Chris approached, looking every bit as put together in his extremely bland suit, which fit him perfectly. It was an indistinct shade of gray over a crisp white shirt, with Kenneth Cole loafers peering out from under the half-break of his pant legs. His hair was parted on the right and combed neatly, plastered in place with gel and hairspray, which he used in large quantities. He smiled at her, his teeth practically glowing with his latest whitening.
“Leigh, I’m glad I caught you,” he said, sounding out of breath.
“What do you want, Chris?” she asked, knowing she sounded curt, but not really caring. She had no lingering feelings for him, and she wasn’t keen on speaking to him, especially knowing he was likely going to make a plea for her to come back. She had no intentions of leading him on, much less actually accepting the offer.
“I wanted to see you,” he said, his smile pasted on. A closer look at him showed dark circles under his eyes, and his cheeks weren’t so rosy, slightly sunken in. “I miss you, Leigh. I made a mistake. It happens. But I love you, and it won’t happen again.”
She snorted. “That’s rich, Chris. I’m not stupid, and I’m not going to put myself in that position again.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes, Leigh. I’ll do anything you want to gain your trust,” he begged, giving her the puppy eyes that had bought his way out of the doghouse before. Now, though, it felt wrong, phony, and Leigh wrinkled her nose.
Shaking her head, she told him, “There is nothing in this world good enough for me to trust you again.”
His face crumbled into a scowl, and he glanced down at the bouquet in her arms. “Let me guess. You got those from the guy you were talking to earlier.”
Leigh gawked at him. But then, she should have known he was watching her, practically stalking her. Closing her mouth and jutting her chin out in defiance, she told him, “Yes, I did. Zeke’s a good man. And he’s sexy as hell.” She gave him a sickly sweet, taunting smile. “Are you jealous?”
Grinding his teeth, Chris seemed to hold back the tirade on the tip of his tongue. “What about us, Leigh? We’re not over yet!”
She scoffed. “Are you insane? We were over the minute I caught you in bed with Arianna!” She shook her head. “You effectively ended ‘us’ when you decided to stick your dick in one of my closest friends. And for the record, she ruined our friendship, too. Besides,” she added, ready to drive the knife home and let him see how it felt, “I’ve moved on. Zeke is taking me to dinner on Thursday.”
“And why would he bring you flowers before you went on a date?” Chris asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.
Standing tall, she leveraged the killing blow. “Because it’s not my first rodeo with him, if you know what I mean.” The shock on his face as he winced made it worth every moment, even if her colleagues overheard the conversation. “That’s right, I slept with him. Although I waited until after we were through to find comfort in someone else’s bed. And not because I was satisfied with you. Now I know just how lacking you are in your sexual prowess. You don’t hold a candle to Zeke, and Arianna is welcome to you, if that’s good enough for her.”
“You’re disgusting,” he snarled at her. “How could you do this to me?”
“Oh, please!” Leigh was done playing nice. “You’re the bastard who stepped out on me, not the other way around. I left you almost two months ago, Chris, and you nearly broke me. I deserve so much better than you. I put up with your bullshit for so long, and I was ready to give you the perfect home, be the perfect wife with the perfect family. And you just weren’t satisfied. Well, guess what. Neither was I, and I’m not settling for you and your half ass attempts at romance.”
“So, you’re just going to toy around with some piece of shit from the wrong side of town? Someone who makes a living stealing or whatever other criminal activity those bikers are into?”
Now, Leigh was livid. “Are you stalking me?”
He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t have to. I just asked a couple of people here who he was. And I can’t believe you’re even entertaining this whole fling with him. You’re not the woman I thought you were.”
“What, the type to grin and bear it, forgiving all your sins? No, I’m not. And you’re not the man you want everyone to believe you are.” She stepped closer to him, hating his proximity but needing to get her point across without anyone overhearing her. “Bother me again, especially at work, I will scream things that will embarrass and ruin you. And then, I’ll send the Devil’s Flames to cut your balls off,” she hissed. “Are we clear?”
For a moment, she thought he was going to argue, but she saw the fear flash through his eyes and the deep swallow as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “I’m glad you caught me. It gives me an excuse not to marry you.”
She scoffed. “Just be careful with the stories you tell about me. You’re still the villain.”
He stared for a long moment, hatred rolling off him in waves and nearly knocking her down with their strength. Then, he turned on his heel and marched off. Relieved to be rid of him but riled up, Leigh turned to hurry to the breakroom. She needed to get some food in her before her anger tore her apart. She couldn’t work like this and had to ground and center.
She stormed through the hall, past the windows that looked out over the parking lot, and by the waiting area next to the breakroom. But she had to do a doubletake, realizing that she recognized the man standing against the wall. She swallowed hard at the pain on his face that had nothing to do with a physical ailment, like his healing knee, and everything to do with something emotional. How much of that exchange with Chris had he heard? Because if he’d walked in or out at the wrong time, he would have completely misunderstood the entire heated conversation.
He glanced up, and something flashed through his eyes that broke her heart. She hadn’t meant to hurt him, but it seemed like she’d screwed up. She didn’t know why it bothered her so much. Sure, she’d wanted another chance for an escapade, but she wasn’t emotionally invested in Zeke.
Was she?
It didn’t matter; he averted his gaze and started down the hall away from her, limping
slightly and favoring his bad leg. She thought about going after him, but what would she say? Especially since she had no idea what he had or hadn’t heard.
Her appetite shattered, she sunk into a chair in the waiting area, one arm wrapped around the bouquet and the other dangling the bag of food. Well, at least she wouldn’t have to freak out about what to wear on Thursday. That date was likely cancelled and the invitation issued completely regretted.
A surge of rage directed toward Chris washed over her, and she knew she would blame him for this forever. And if he ever bothered her again, she would definitely make good on her promise.
7
It wasn’t the first time Zeke had been a tool, quite literally. He knew a lot of women used him just like he used them. It had never bothered him. He treated the woman well, made sure she enjoyed herself, that she came before he did. He gave her a bed overnight, usually called a cab for her in the morning, and moved on with his business without a second thought.
But this was different.
Maybe it was just hearing it with his own ears. The other women either flaunted him in a bar before they slept together or internalized their desire to have a wild night with a biker. This was the first time he’d witnessed the goading in person.
But he considered some of the women he’d slept with, and he couldn’t think of a single one that would have made him feel this stupid. Of course, he wouldn’t have gotten dolled up and bought flowers for any of them, either. He didn’t take women to dinner. He didn’t bring them home. And he didn’t care what they thought of him the morning after. So why had he broken all his own rules for Leigh and given her the power to make him regret his choices? And worse, to start questioning his judgment again?
The fact that it mattered, that he couldn’t stop thinking about it, had him enraged, mostly with himself. It was just a good lay. He’d gone back to get another chance, to prove his competence in bed when he had full control of his body. He’d just wanted to be inside her one more time, to get her to stay the night one time, and then he was going to walk away. And now, he wished he had let it go.
He’d started to. He’d waited three weeks, weighing his options, and he’d focused hard on getting his leg back in shape. He didn’t want any questions as to whether or not an acceptance of his invitation was out of pity. He’d never considered it would be for selfish reasons. He would have rather been rejected.
As the Uber pulled up to the curb and he limped over, he chided himself for getting so involved, and he cursed Corey for urging him to do this ridiculous thing. And whatever was going through his head that made him need some sort of validation, he’d seen that need almost fulfilled by Leigh’s attention.
He couldn’t ever remember needing validation before, not like this. As a child, he’d sought his parents’ approval and failed to earn it. He’d looked for acceptance from his peers and only found it under the condition that he bent to their will. He’d finally found his place with the MC, a place where they didn’t judge and they didn’t ask him to change, except to find the real person under the delinquent he’d become.
And he hadn’t sought out anything more, other than to satisfy his libido without getting involved. He’d been just fine, happy even. This had all started when he’d landed in the hospital. Feeling unworthy. Questioning his future. And when Leigh walked into the hospital room, it had all swirled out of control with her obvious disapproval of him. He needed to turn that around, and even now, he didn’t know why it was so important.
He’d gone to such great lengths today, and what had it gotten him? A false sense of confidence when she’d agreed to see him for dinner. And then, he’d lingered just a bit longer, wanting to catch one more glimpse of her before he left, and he’d heard her talking to that jackass, who was apparently her ex. And the way she’d acted like he was a conquest, Zeke couldn’t see how he was anything but a knife she could drive into the uptight dickhead’s heart.
As the Uber pulled up to the clubhouse, his humiliation took control, giving way to the secondary anger that erupted when he couldn’t handle his real feelings. Despite the fact that his knee was killing him, he stormed into the building, looking around until he spotted Corey, bent over a table in the back with several papers spread out in front of him. He barely noticed Dylan, the new president of the Diamond Kings, sitting across from him. It didn’t matter. He started toward Corey, his fury driving him.
“Hey, boss!” he called out, not caring whose attention he called, as long as Corey took note of him coming. His president’s head turned, and Corey blinked, standing as he realized Zeke was racing across the room.
Corey seemed to brace himself just in time, only rocking on his feet rather than going down as Zeke shoved him with both hands on his chest. When that failed to knock him on his ass, Zeke reared back with a fist and threw a right hook that would have connected and dislocated Corey’s jaw, had he not caught Zeke’s hand and used it to wrench Zeke around, twisting his arm behind his back. “What the hell are you doing?” Corey asked, his voice filled with outrage and disbelief.
“Holding you accountable,” Zeke said, struggling against the hold and barely standing with the sharp pains shooting through his leg. “I should never have listened to you!”
“Whoa, Zeke. You need to calm down and explain.” Corey’s hold on him relaxed slightly, but he gave a jerk, shaking Zeke a bit as if to drive some sense into him.
“I don’t need to explain shit to you. I don’t owe you anything, considering how you fucked me up with your advice.”
Dylan stepped in front of him. “Come on, Zeke. I don’t know what’s going on, but I know you value your friendship with Corey and your position with your club.”
Zeke growled. “We have a truce. That doesn’t mean you have a right to tell me how to act.” But he stopped struggling and sagged. “I’m fine, Corey,” he muttered. “I need to sit down.”
When Corey released him, he all but fell into the chair, wincing and rubbing his thigh. “So, you come in and attack me without warning, putting yourself in agony and possibly even tearing up your injury,” Corey summed up, motioning for someone to bring over a beer. “What the hell, Zeke?”
But Zeke shook his head. “I’m not going to talk about this in front of anyone else.” He glanced sideways at Dylan. “Finish your business here. We’ll talk later.” He rolled his eyes up to Corey, who still stood over him and handed him a bottle of Shiner. “Sorry, boss. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“Obviously.” Corey slapped him on the back as he got to his feet.
“Is Rafe around?”
Corey nodded. “He’s out back with Kira. They’re rebuilding a bike for her.”
Maybe Kira would have better advice than any of these idiots, Zeke thought. After all, most of his MC brotherhood had the same outlook on women as he had for the last fourteen years. He should have thought of that before implementing any advice he got from any of them, including Corey.
Moving slowly so he didn’t cause himself any extra agony, he made his way out the back door and over to the garage, where Rafe was bent over the gas line of a stripped down bike. Kira stood behind him, wiping her brow and leaving black oil smears behind. It was hot out here, but Zeke didn’t notice, still burning up from the inside out.
Kira smiled at him, but the smile faded into a frown of concern as he approached. “You’re limping pretty bad today.”
Zeke rolled his eyes but took the chair she brought out for him with gratitude. “It’s been a rough day,” he told her, swigging half the beer down in two large gulps. Glancing at Kira again, he asked, “Did it bother you at all when you found out Rafe came onto you at first because he needed to use you against your brother?”
Rafe’s head came around fast enough to give him whiplash, and his expression was filled with warning. But Kira looked thoughtful rather than upset. She spoke slowly and deliberately. “It upset me. Of course it did. But his actions showed me he had changed his mind and prioritized me over his nee
d for revenge.” She smiled. “Besides, my first intention weren’t exactly above board. I wanted to piss my brother off, and I originally meant to use Rafe for that purpose. But I fell for him, and he put his faith in me.”
Zeke considered that as he gestured between them. “But the two of you had a common goal. You both wanted to get payback, on the same person.”
“That just gave us common ground to build on,” Rafe chimed in. “What’s going on, Zeke? You having an attack of guilt or something?”
Zeke scoffed. “I wish! That would be easier to deal with.” He shook his head and finished the beer. “No, I guess I just never thought too much about how it felt to be used.” He sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Hell, I don’t even know why it matters. I just need to move on already.”
“And why don’t you?” Kira asked, eyebrow raised. She was taking far too much interest in this now, and he should have known better than to ask for advice, even from her.
Looking for a good excuse, he told her, “I still have a wine and dine planned for Thursday evening with her. But I don’t know if I can go through with it. And she knows I know about her little scheme, so even if I wanted to go through with it, wouldn’t that be awkward?”
“How do you know she’s using you?” Rafe challenged.
Mortified, Zeke averted his gaze. “I heard her telling her ex about me, and let’s just say her tone made it clear she was more than happy to throw a biker in his old money, rich tightwad face. I’m not her type, never was, and it should have hit me sooner. But to overhear it like that was like a knife in the back.”
Crossing her arms, Kira gave him an accusatory look. “Did you hear the whole conversation?”
“No, I wasn’t going to hang around for it.”
“And how do you know you aren’t her type? Obviously this guy wasn’t her type, or he wouldn’t be her ex,” Rafe pointed out. “You have always had issues with valuing yourself. Don’t project it onto someone else because you overheard something that could have been taken out of context.”