“What’s your take on the new girl?” I’m fishing to see if they’ve spoken. Fishing to see if I need to keep an eye on her for the rest of the night.
“She’s not exactly friendly. I tried talking to her the first time she came to the diner. I was working, gave her free pie, and she sort of blew me off.”
“Sort of?”
“She was pleasant to me until Charlie swung by to pick me up on his motorcycle. She asked if he was part of the MC in town, and I said yes, then Meg made up some excuse to leave, and when she sees me now, she walks the other way. While I don’t have physical evidence, I’m betting she has some very wrong preconceived ideas about motorcycle clubs. Which is fantastic, because that’s all this town needs—one more hater.”
All Rebecca says is true, but I don’t focus on that. Instead, I try to think of a way to work Meg’s name into the conversation because I want to hear how it rolls off my lips. Meg. Her name is Meg.
“Izzy,” Charlie calls out, using his nickname for Rebecca. “Are you playing?”
“Damn straight I am.” Rebecca smacks my arm. “Come play with us. My team is lacking talent, and I seriously want to beat Charlie. If he wins, he gloats, and I want to punch him in the nose when he gloats.”
I chuckle. “Maybe later.”
“Whatever, but I meant what I said. Stay away from Meg. Besides the fact she’s quiet and she obviously doesn’t like MCs, I get the feeling she’s here to heal from something. So if you want to kiss a girl, kiss somebody else.”
“If she dissed you, then why are you defending her?”
Rebecca slips off the tailgate and shoves her hands into her front pockets. Her shoulders hunch, and she loses some of the color in her face. There’s an ache in my chest for her. Rebecca and I are close because Rebecca’s dad is Satan, and she spends a lot of time at my house to hide from him. That look she has on her face is the same one she gets after the two of them have a rough run-in. “I understand ghosts.”
That rumbles through me. “Meg told you she has ghosts?”
She shakes her head. “When you live in a haunted house, sometimes it’s easy to spot other people’s demented spirits.”
I nod to let her know I understand. I may not have real life experience with those sorts of ghosts, but I’ve seen enough of the aftermath of living with Rebecca’s and Charlie’s parents that I can empathize. “No kissing the new girl. I got it.”
Rebecca’s smile is weak, and she tries to play off the hurt with a wink. She walks into the night, closer to the trucks that have turned on their headlights to create a playing field.
Ron’s still talking to Meg, and Meg’s still staring at the bonfire. He’s zeroed in on her for the evening even though she hasn’t given him much indication she’s interested, but a girl’s consent has never been his thing. Sweet-talking them until he gets them alone is his MO.
Truth is, I’d like to play football and hang with my friends, not be an unpaid babysitter for the night. I got three choices. One—I can walk away, because she’s not my responsibility. Two—I can play guardian angel all night from a distance and then hop in if he makes a move on her. Three—I can go over now and tell her what’s up.
Option one won’t work. I couldn’t live with it if something happened to her. I’m not patient enough for two, so that leaves me with three.
Ron jacks his thumb over his shoulder, pointing at the keg. That’s all this girl needs, a drink brought to her from this asshole. Meg looks at him for the first time with an air of contempt. Takes everything I have not to laugh. Good girl, not buying what he’s selling, but Ron is the ultimate dirty used car salesman. He keeps up that smile and pretends not to read her body language.
Hell, maybe the bastard can’t read her body language. Maybe there’s a short circuit in his brain—but that doesn’t give him an excuse. Just gives more credence to my theory that he needs to be locked in a cage at the zoo.
Ron leaves, and I take my opportunity do to my public service announcement. Whatever she decides to do after she’s been warned won’t be on my conscience.
I’m off the tailgate, nodding my head at people who greet me along the way, even pause for a few beats to accept handshakes and one fast hug from an old friend. Once I get past the unseen barrier between my side of town and the other, the greetings aren’t as warm, when there are any at all.
Gotta admit, Meg is a sight. She wears expensive jeans that look tailored to her and a blue sweater that against the bonfire gives her a soft glow, and her blond hair spills over her shoulders. Upon closer examination, her face leaves me breathless. She has a face I could stare at for a very long time.
A few more steps until I’m in her space, and a stick cracks under the weight of my foot. Meg jumps, a shudder running through her body, and her head snaps in my direction. I stop in my tracks and put my hands in the air to show I come in peace. She wraps her arms around herself at the sight of me, and I slowly breathe out. I don’t live in a haunted house and even I can see her ghosts.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Her blue eyes narrow. “You didn’t scare me.”
All right. If that’s how we’re going to play then that’s how we’re going to play. I lower my hands and walk up to her, but leave a few feet between us for her comfort. “My bad then. We haven’t had a chance to talk yet. I’m Eli McKinley. We have math and English together.”
Damn, same glare of contempt she gave Ron. “And?”
I blink. There are a lot of things she could have said that I would have comebacks for, but that wasn’t one of them. “And I wanted to introduce myself.”
“You have.” Meg returns to staring at the bonfire.
Good thing I had already decided against kissing her. Otherwise, my ego would be shredded to bloody pieces. “You always this friendly?”
“No, I used to be nice. But nice didn’t work out so well for me.”
That brings me up short, and I glance around as if someone will give me a clue as to how to continue the conversation. “You met my friend Rebecca earlier this week. She said you were nice.”
Meg’s face screws up, and internally I’m wincing. She said you were nice. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Your dad is Cyrus McKinley, the head of the Reign of Terror, right?”
Why do I feel like I’m being set up? “Yeah.”
“And from what I understand, the Reign of Terror are a relatively new and small club. You have a few chapters in-state. Some in Tennessee, Ohio and Indiana. Nothing huge, and for your sake, I hope it stays small, because flying under the radar is working for you now. But regardless of all that, you’re MC, correct?”
My eyebrows draw together. Granted, she’s been in town a few days and all that information is public knowledge, but it’s not the type of information normally given to a new girl. “That’s right.”
“I’m going to make this easier on both of us. I don’t do MCs. Not anymore. Rebecca seems like a great girl, but it appears she’s on the fast track to being someone’s old lady. That’s her decision, and I’m all for her living her life as she wants to, but I don’t travel those roads anymore. While I’m in this town, I won’t give you a hard time, so how about you guys don’t give me one?”