Fuck.
No.
No thoughts like that.
They were dangerous.
I couldn’t entertain them.
With that, I tossed my water on the bed then moved over toward my cabinet to slip out of my dirty clothes and into a pair of pajama bottoms before dropping down in my bed.
I expected sleep to come relatively easy after such a long day. But I found myself staring up at the underside of the bunk above me for what seemed like hours.
Voss, I knew, was dead asleep. He always slept like a brick just a couple seconds after dropping down.
Hours later, though, there was a squeak that could have been someone rolling over, but I somehow knew better.
Because then there was more squeaking and a deep, but feminine sigh.
From my position, I could see her lower legs dangling down over the side of her bed near the ladder.
There wasn’t much light in the space, save for a dolphin-themed nightlight left over from some sleepover someone’s kids had in the clubhouse at some point that no one had ever thought to take out. But even so, I was pretty sure I made out dark painted toenails. And it annoyed me that I wanted to know if it was black or midnight blue or royal purple, knowing those were her favorite colors.
She swung her legs for a couple seconds. Shaking life into them, maybe? Or just restless energy?
Then there was more adjusting and her legs shifted, turning to grab onto the ladder as she started to move down.
I still didn’t understand her choice in being on the top. Especially because I’d always known her to be a deep sleeper. I used to be able to slide out from under her body, then over her to get off the bed, then sneak out the window at her parents’ house almost every night. She’d never woken up.
Had life changed that?
Or did she feel safer up high?
Safer from what? Me?
That idea had my stomach twisting. Because, once upon a time, I had been the person she’d trusted more than anyone else.
Until, of course, I fucked that all up.
Still, it bothered me if she thought she had anything to fear from me.
All those thoughts disappeared, though, as she got down to the ground. And I saw a lot more skin than I’d anticipated.
My stomach twisted as she made her way toward the bathroom, knowing that the second she moved inside, the under-cabinet and under-mirror motion lights would activate. And I’d see all that skin clearly. Too clearly.
Before I could even try to prepare myself for it, though, she was across the room and moving into the doorway, and the lights were popping on, soaking her in light.
She didn’t immediately close the door, either.
Oh, no.
She just stood there, bracing her hands on the sink cabinet in front of the mirror, but her gaze wasn’t on herself, it was downcast.
Which gave me a chance to look.
And I did.
When I damn well knew what I needed to do was look away.
Back when I’d known Louana, she’d slept in roomy pajama pants and some of her dad’s hand-me-down oversized shirts.
This Louana, though?
Yeah, she apparently favored tank tops and the shortest shorts I’d ever seen in my life.
All of it hugged her curves that had only managed to fill out over the years.
She had nothing on underneath, and the material of her tank was thin, and the air in the clubhouse always ran toward slightly frigid.
I’m not proud to say that I looked for way too long at her hardened nipples pebbling up under the material.
Reaching back, she gathered her long hair, and tied it up in an elastic band she had around her wrist, and I could make out the outline of some sort of tattoo peeking out from the top of her tee.
From there, her gaze finally slipped to the mirror as she turned on one of the taps, staring at her reflection for a long moment before bending down to press what I imagined was cold water on her face.
Had I been wrong when we’d come in? Had she been awake all this time as well?
If so, thinking about what?
Me?
I mean, I was the reason she was at the club in the first place, wasn’t I?
It wasn’t like Louana had always wanted to be a biker. In fact, she’d been hesitant to get on my bike when we’d hung out the first time.
She’d always been sort of uncertain about what her future held. She said she thought she’d been too sheltered in our small town with her overprotective parents, and that she wasn’t going to be able to decide until she got out in the world and experienced more of what life had to offer.
There was no way those experiences suddenly made her want to become an arms-dealing biker.
She was here because she knew I was back and she wanted to fuck with me.
So, then, why did she seem every bit as anxious about it as I did?
That, I decided as she left the bathroom and went back to bed, was what I needed to figure out.
Whether she liked it or not.
CHAPTER SIX
Louana
“Hey there, pretty lady,” a voice greeted me when I’d made my way out of the prospect room the next morning.
I thought I’d gotten up relatively early, but I guess the bikers were earlier risers than I’d realized. Because Valen and Voss were both gone when I’d climbed out of my bunk. Their beds were even made.
A little panicked that I’d screwed up already, I’d decided to shower later in the day, and just got into a pair of jeans and a ribbed tee, and rushed out into the main area of the clubhouse.
My fellow prospects were nowhere to be found, but there was another guy hanging around with a box of donut holes sitting on the coffee table in front of him.
“It’s seven in the morning,” I said, shaking my head at the sweets.
“I had bacon for a midnight snack. I needed something sweet,” he informed me, not really helping his argument at all. But he seemed both aware and okay with that. “Louana, right?” he asked.
“Yeah. New prospect.”
“I’m Dezi,” he offered.
He was hot.
Objectively, I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen an unattractive Henchmen.
This guy had wavy brown hair that brushed his shoulders, a beard, brown eyes, and tattoos that cover just about every inch of skin below his chin. Including ones on his fingers.
Lost on one hand.
Hope on the other.
Lost hope.
Interesting coming from a guy eating a child’s treat first thing in the morning.
“And you, pretty lady, are the first gorgeous woman to walk in this club who isn’t someone’s girlfriend or a princess since I’ve been here,” he told me. “Which means you aren’t off-limits,” he added.
“Except I am a prospect,” I reminded him.
“I mean, they might call it a gross abuse of my authoritative power, but it isn’t strictly forbidden. Being that all former prospects have been dudes,” he added.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, reaching into the box to snag a donut hole because, well, I’d had a shitty night of sleep and therefore was craving crap. “So, where is everyone?” I asked as I dropped down on the couch.
“Hm. Well, half the guys are asleep. The others are likely with their chicks or at the gym. The latter meaning your fellow prospects.”
“Lo’s gym?” I asked.
“Nah.”