by Marie James
She clears her throat, taking a step back before I can lean in closer and press my mouth to hers.
“Ten minutes,” she says before disappearing down the hall toward her room.
Chapter 27
Rivet
It takes him fifteen minutes to join me out front, but I refrain from asking him if he had to wait longer alone in the kitchen so he wouldn’t have to embarrass himself in front of his brother and friends.
When he comes around the side of the clubhouse, he’s every girl’s wet dream. In jeans tight enough for me to trace every muscle group in his thighs, I can’t help but gawk at him as he walks toward me with that cocky swagger he always moves with.
“The way you’re looking at me makes me wonder if we’d be better off inside.”
I swallow thickly. I’m not opposed to the idea, but I don’t tell him that the clubhouse is off-limits tonight. He may already know that they aren’t allowed inside, but I doubt he was privileged to the why of it.
“I owe you an apology,” I say instead, needing to get it out of the way. “What happened a couple of weeks ago, the way I shut you down, that was wrong.”
“So, you made a mistake?” His face has grown serious. The boy spitting pickup lines inside is nowhere to be found. “You shouldn’t have just brushed me off or you regret saying what you did because you don’t want to keep your distance?”
“Which question do you want me to answer first?”
“All of them,” he answers as if it’s that simple.
“I may have jumped to conclusions about people knowing.”
“Griffin knows,” he tells me. “He walked in on Mom and Dad talking about it, and he put two and two together. I didn’t discuss it with him, but I also didn’t deny it when he asked about it.”
“I appreciate your honesty.” I really do because he didn’t have to tell me. I’m apologizing, and he could’ve easily put all of this on me. “But I was thinking the guys knew because they were being secretive. They were talking with each other and leaving me out of their conversations. I figured it was because they found out about what happened between us, and they no longer respected me because of it.”
“Really?” he snaps, anger simmering and close to boiling over. He turns so he can point to the front door of the clubhouse. “Every one of those guys is a slut. They fuck without remorse or even much need for selection. For them to judge you—”
“Cannon. Stop.” He snaps his jaw shut, but his irritation is clear in the tension tightening his shoulders. “They weren’t talking about us. They were making other plans.”
“They should include you in all of their plans.”
I grin, thinking back to the conversation I had moments ago with Rocker. “Believe me, I’m glad they didn’t include me in these.”
“What were the plans?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
He frowns, but his shoulders drop a few inches as if he’s no longer readied to storm the castle to fight for my honor.
“But it’s Cerberus business?”
“Are we going to ride or stand out here chatting all night?”
He looks over his shoulder one last time, reluctant to leave without knowing the entire story, but eventually he turns toward his bike.
“Hop on,” he says when he lifts the kickstand and steadies the bike. His muscles bunch and tighten under the denim of his jeans and the sight makes my mouth dry. Since when does some guy make me nearly unable to form coherent thoughts?
“What? No. I’m not riding with you. I have my own damn bike.” My muscles rebel, wanting me to climb behind him and wrap my arms around his narrow waist. I know what’s hiding under his clothes. The guy is ridiculously fit, but my pride won’t let me climb on behind him when I’m perfectly capable of riding my own motorcycle.
“Babe.” His lips twitch when he sees me stiffen.
“Don’t fucking babe me, Cannon Griggs.”
“So now we’re at full names? Doesn’t seem fair, Rivet.”
Only this second do I realize I haven’t told him my real first name, and now it’s become a thing.
“I’m not riding bitch.”
“Yeah, look.” He turns around and I nearly choke on my own spit when I read the back of his shirt. There are two circular targets near his shoulders and below it reads PLACE TITS HERE.
“Not a fucking chance,” I hiss, but laughter erupts from my throat. This guy and his damn shirts.
“Get on the bike, Rivet.”
I shake my head and walk toward my own bike. There’s no way in hell I’m riding on his bike, especially after that ridiculous shirt.
“Your tits are supposed to be on my back, woman!” he shouts as I walk further away. “It’s literally how it goes!”
I ignore him, drowning out his words when I crank my bike. I smile at him and drive away. Within seconds, he’s riding beside me with a wide grin on his face and man does he look sexy as hell with his hair blowing in the breeze at the nape of his neck.
My own smile stays plastered to my face, and I have no reasoning for it other than I’m legitimately happy. Riding always gets me in a great mood. It’s relaxing, and although I normally like to ride alone when I’m frustrated or angry, none of those emotions are present right now. I’m carefree and excited to be sharing this moment with Cannon.
But that sentiment scares me a little. Being around men isn’t a new thing for me. My job, my time in the service, all of it is dominated by men.
Wanting to be around a certain guy is the new change.
Other than spending time with Bishop, I haven’t wanted the company of a particular person for as long as I can remember. My time with my best friend was because I genuinely cared for him, but there wasn’t a romantic or sexual aspect to it.
Cannon is a whole other story. Even riding our bikes through town, each time he looks at me there’s sexual tension bubbling around us. The vibrations of the bike don’t help to dispel any of those feelings either.
He points to a mom-and-pop diner and we pull off.
“Not really hungry,” I confess when we turn our bikes off and are able to hear each other without yelling.
“I was thinking root beer floats.”
His grin is once again contagious, and I just watch his perfect features as that immature giddiness transforms his face once again.
A family of six walks out of the diner, three of the four kids staring at our bikes as if they’re entranced at the sight of them. The parents wave at Cannon and he nods in their direction.
“Think those parents would be as happy to see you if their kids saw the back of your shirt?”
His smile falters, eyes widening at my question.
“Shit,” he mutters. “Didn’t even think of that.”
I wonder if he ever does. Of course the silly shirts are perfect for the bar and around the clubhouse, but it’s probably not a good idea around school-aged children who can read.
Expecting him to crank his bike and leave the diner parking lot, I gasp, both in delight and shock, as he grips the hem of his t-shirt and pulls it over his head.
“I don’t think half naked is going to work either,” I chastise, but my eyes are glued to his flexing pecs and washboard abdomen.
He laughs, winking at me as he turns the shirt inside out and tugs it back over his head.
He catches me licking my lips, and my cheeks heat from more than the hot sun.
“Don’t look so disappointed,” he teases as he climbs off his bike. “I’ll make it up to you later.”
The dark, salacious promise should irritate me, but of course it doesn’t. He’s all sex on muscled thighs and sparkling eyes. I want to take him up on his offer right now.
“I don’t even like root beer,” I say as we walk toward the entrance.
“They have amazing shakes as well. Their strawberries and cream shake is out of this world.”
He holds the door open for me, and somehow this is starting to feel more like a date.
As much as I’m okay with the sexual innuendo and the promise of getting naked later, I’m hesitant about it being anything more than that.
“Cannon.” I reach for his arm, but before I can tell him this feels weird, his phone rings.
Holding up a finger, he apologizes for the interruption and answers his phone.
“Landon,” he says when the call connects. His brow furrows. “Slow down and tell me what happened.”
He listens, nodding his head twice, but I can tell he isn’t happy with whatever news he’s getting from Kid’s only son.
“Text me an address. I’m on my way.” He pockets his phone and turns back to me. “He’s got a little trouble. Can I get a raincheck on the shakes?”
“Sure,” I say, trying to hide my relief. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m sure it will be.” We turn around to leave, but before I can climb on my bike, he clutches my arm. “Why don’t you come with me? I bet it’s just some stupid teenage drama. I can deal with it quickly and then we can finish our ride.”
I hesitate. This isn’t club drama. This is personal, family drama, and I shouldn’t be anywhere near it, but the pleading in his eyes makes up my mind. I don’t think he needs me there with him with whatever is going on with Landon, but he doesn’t want our trip out to end.
“Sure,” I tell him reluctantly as I climb on my bike.
The ride is only about ten minutes before we pull up to a nice brick home in the suburbs of town. Parking on the street, I wait, deferring to Cannon as to our next move, but then Landon comes running out of the open garage and down the driveway.
“They beat the shit out of him for no fucking reason,” Landon says as he approaches.
“Watch your mouth,” Cannon hisses.
Landon cuts his eyes to me before mumbling a quick apology.
I almost open my mouth to tell him not to worry about it because I’ve spent a lot of time on Navy bases, and I can literally say I cuss worse than most sailors, but Kid and Khloe have raised this young man to be respectful around women. Honestly, all the guys from around there are the same way. I’ve heard Griffin get on Cannon for his mouth more than once.
“You need to calm down and tell me what happened,” Cannon says as Landon leads us to the small group of teen boys in the garage.
One is sitting on a workbench with a bag of frozen vegetables plastered to the side of his face.
“Ricky and Seth were leaving the movie theater and this group of guys just jumped them,” Landon explains. “Ricky is hurt the worst.”
The second I take a longer look, I already know what happened. Ricky, presumably the guy holding the peas to his face is being doted on by another guy who can only be Seth. The couple looks truly shaken up, and if they left the theater and were attacked, that makes this a hate crime, not just some boys taking an ass beating for stupid shit.
“Did you call the police?” Cannon asks, probably assessing the situation and coming to the same conclusion.
“Fu-heck no,” Landon hisses. “We want you to come with us to find them.”
“And do what?” Cannon asks, and I realize this is a defining moment.
Cannon’s response to Landon’s request can possibly change everything. This is a matter for the police, not an open opportunity for vigilante justice, but when Cannon frowns, sighing as he looks back to the injured boys, I don’t know which direction he’s going to go.
“Do you know who they are?”
“Yeah, a couple of guys that graduated a few years ago. Come on. They don’t live far from here,” Landon urges.
The teenager looks like he’s ready to run headfirst into a firefight without assessing the entire situation.
“Calm down,” Cannon says.
“Calm down? I can’t fucking calm down. They can’t just do something like this and get away with it!”
“Landon,” Cannon whispers in warning. “We aren’t going over there to retaliate. It won’t solve anything.”
Finally, a voice of reason.
Cannon explains that the police need to be called, the parents need to be called, and both young men injured in the attack need to be evaluated at the hospital.
Before he begins to coordinate all of that stuff, I let him know that I’m going to get out of there.
He doesn’t seem happy when I make my excuses to leave, but he’s got so much other stuff going on, he can’t focus on me for long.
I’m a little sad that our day is ending, but at the same time, I’m grateful he’s handling this situation like a mature adult. A couple of months ago, I would’ve lost money betting against him. As I walk away, I can’t help but hope we get to spend more time together soon.
Chapter 28
Cannon
“He can’t go back to the clubhouse,” Dustin says as he looks past the camera on his phone to listen to something Khloe says.
“The Regans have already said he could stay the weekend with them,” I inform him. “They’ve assured me that they’ll keep a close eye on them.”
“And the police?” Dustin asks.
“The report has been filed. When we left the hospital, an officer was there to talk with Ricky and Seth. The injuries were what the medical staff considered minor, but they said it’s always a good idea to have a record of things like this.”
Dustin frowns when Khloe complains about hateful people and ignorance in the world. He’s not upset with her, and I know he agrees, but he’s frustrated over the whole situation.
“We can come back. If we leave now, we’ll get there by midnight.”
“Dad,” Landon groans. “I’ll be fine at the Regan’s.”
“And you and Aaron don’t have any devious plans to sneak out and seek justice for your friends?”
“No, Dad.”
“Isn’t Aaron, Abigail’s brother?” Khloe asks from off-screen.
Dustin narrows his eyes when he watches Landon stiffen. It’s clear he was hoping they wouldn’t put two and two together.
“Landon?”
Rolling his eyes, Landon takes the phone from me and stands so he can talk to his dad.
“Yes,” he finally answers. “But that doesn’t mean anything. We’re just going to play Xbox and chill.”
“I’m too young to be a grandmother,” Khloe says.
“Mom.”
I can’t tell if Landon is embarrassed or what but he looks over his shoulder at me, his eyes pleading to make them stop talking about this topic.
“You stay there. Don’t go anywhere, and you stay away from that girl,” Dustin tells his son. “I don’t need a phone call from the hospital if you get caught in her room in the middle of the night and her dad beats the crap out of you.”
“I won’t get caught in her room.” Dustin scoffs on the video chat. “I mean I’m not going into her room. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
I can’t help the smile spreading on my face because I was exactly the same way when I was his age. Hormones hit hard and with a vengeance. There wasn’t a damn thing Mom and Dad could tell me to derail my plans.
They eventually say goodbye, and Landon hands me back my phone. The walk back to my bike is silent, but it would be very irresponsible of me to take this boy over there and not say something.
“Do you need condoms?”
He groans, covering his eyes. “No.”
“So you have some?”
He shakes his head.
“Get on. We’ll stop by the store.”
“I don’t need fucking condoms, Cannon.”
“It’s better to be prepared than not. Stupid decisions are made in the middle of the night, even when you don’t think something will happen.”
“Jesus,” he spits. “The girl wouldn’t give me the time of day.”
“She doesn’t fall for your charm?” I bite the inside of my lip to keep from smiling. He doesn’t need my teasing right now.
“She thinks I’m an idiot. I kissed her best friend at the end-of-school party, and now
she treats me like I have the plague or something.”
“Wow. Drama. You sure you don’t need to stop by the store?”
“I’m sure. I wouldn’t disrespect Mr. and Mrs. Regan like that. Besides, Aaron would kill me if he caught me trying to push up on Abigail.”
I nod in understanding and wait for him to climb on the bike. Too bad I turned my t-shirt inside out because him riding with me with my shirt would be hilarious. It only takes fifteen minutes to get across town to the Regan’s. After speaking with them and providing them with contact information for Dustin and Khloe, I give Landon one last look of warning before I leave.
Stupidly, I don’t have Rivet’s number, but it isn’t too late to go to her. By the time I reach the parking lot in front of the clubhouse, my cock is already hard with anticipation. Taking a few calming breaths before I enter the clubhouse, I spend a moment to actually contemplate how I want the evening to go.
Do I want to lay her out and devour her? Of course I do.
Do I want to spend all night seeing how many times I can make her come? Without a doubt.
But I also want to get to know her better. I want more than just fucking between us, and that honestly scares the ever-living shit out of me.
My hand falters on the doorknob because the realization hits me in the chest like a Mack truck. I’m not a relationship guy, and even though I’m not to the point that I think I want that with Rivet, I’ve never wanted to really get to know a girl before. Sure, I can hang out and have a good time, but I’ve never gotten excited about sitting down in a diner and just talking over a root beer float or milkshake.
“My life is so weird,” I mutter when I finally get myself together and shove open the door to the clubhouse.
When I step inside, I realize just how damn true those words are.
Simultaneously, I’m assaulted with the pungent scent of sex filling the air and the cacophony of moaning and grunts. If that isn’t bad enough, I glance over to the pool table and see Grinch’s bare ass as he plows into some chick.
“You’re not supposed to be here, kid.” I look over to address Rocker, and sure enough, he has some girl I’ve never seen before riding his dick. She looks over at me with a wink, but her bouncing never falters.