I’m dazed, as if someone hit me in the head. She’s well-versed in the MC lifestyle, as if she wrote the poem herself, which means she has connections to a club. Question is, which one, and why is she now in my town? “What club are you from?”
“Not answering. And this is my second request for you to please leave me alone.”
Fine. I get it. The ice beneath my feet is thin and cracking and if I don’t leave soon, she’s going to stomp it open and push me into dark, cold waters. “Believe me, don’t believe me, but I didn’t come over to hit on you. I came by because that guy who was talking to you is a bastard in the first degree. His name is Ron and he likes to use girls in the worst way. I wasn’t sure if anyone had gotten around to warning you yet. I didn’t want to see you get hurt, and your only crime is that you’re new to town.”
Her face and eyes soften, and her pure beauty in that moment takes my breath away. Meg’s throat moves as she swallows and slowly exhales. “Thank you then…for the warning.”
I didn’t know there’d been such a weight on my chest at the idea of her not knowing the dangers that lie ahead until now. “You’re welcome.”
I should leave her be and walk away, but I can’t. Not with how small and defenseless she appears. “It looks like you don’t want to be here, and I’m not stupid enough to think you’d take a ride from me, but if you want a ride home, I know plenty of girls who’d give you one.”
Meg scans the area, her gaze darting from one person to the next as if she’s searching for someone. “I came with my cousin, and I can’t go home without her. Our grandmother would only let her come here if I came too, and considering I have to share a bedroom and small bathroom with her for an indefinite amount of time, I’m doing my best to play along.”
“Who’s your cousin?” I ask.
“Jana Silverman.”
That sucks for her. Jana has a drinking problem, and from the expression on Meg’s face, she’s aware of it.
“Do you have her keys?” I ask.
She reaches into her jeans and pulls them out. “Lifted them when we first pulled up.”
“Lifted them?”
“Nine out of ten times, I can take care of myself.”
Gotta give the girl credit, she’s smart.
“Look,” she says. “You seem nice, and I appreciate the warning, but I need you to understand that while you can take it as a disrespect, I mean the following as no disrespect at all. Your lifestyle is your choice, and my lifestyle is my choice, and I’m choosing to stay away from guys on motorcycles. It’s what will work best for everyone. So I’m fine with us ignoring each other, but I want you to understand me keeping my distance is a matter of survival, okay?”
I came over here to give her a heads up about the bastard known as Ron, but talking with Meg has made me curious. Like a damn itch in the back of my brain. “I don’t know what your experience is with MCs, but the Reign of Terror isn’t a one percent club, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”
She rolls her eyes. Rolls. Her. Eyes. That pisses me off while amusing me at the same time.
“That’s what they all say. In fact, I think it’s required when talking with someone outside the MC. You know, you’re all Boy Scouts, help old ladies across streets, feed the homeless, give lollipops to babies and all that jazz.”
A smile spreads across my lips. “I was a Cub Scout. Have the uniform and more than a few patches as proof.”
Her mouth twitches and her eyes dance, and I’m hungry for more.
“I’ll hand it to you.” She releases a fraction of a blinding smile, and I have a feeling her full smile would be like staring into the sun. “You’re smooth.”
If she was any other girl, I’d slide in close, but out of respect for her, I keep the distance between us. “Is that a bad thing?”
She laughs then—a gorgeous sound. “Yes.”
I laugh with her because I’m pretty sure she just called me on my bullshit. But I sober up because what I’m about to say is the honest to God truth. “I’m serious about our club being legit. I understand your concern, but at least think about it before passing judgement on me. We could be friends. Hang out. Talk. Not once will I bring you around the clubhouse. If you’re MC or were MC, you and I both know that means you’re a different breed than Jana and Rob, and you’re not going to feel comfortable hanging with the likes of them. You’ve gotta admit that with being new to town, it would be nice to make friends.”
“I never said I was part of an MC. In fact, I clearly remember not answering.”
She hadn’t. “But you know about us, and while a hundred guys have tried talking to you tonight, I’m the only guy you’ve said a word to.”
“That’s because you’re more annoying than the rest.”
I smile because that’s probably true. “All the same, the offer to hang stands.”
Meg rubs her hands along her arms, and those eyes that had been dancing in laughter become empty. “Thank you, but no thanks.”
Do I plan on giving up on Meg? No. She’s piqued my curiosity and that rarely happens. Do I plan on giving her some space? Definitely. Rebecca’s right. She has ghosts, and I need to give her some breathing room. Even though the urge is to stay, to make her smile and laugh again, it’s time for me to give her that space she asked for. “If things get hairy tonight and you change your mind about needing a ride, come find me and I’ll hook you up.”
“I’m sure you will.” Heavy on the sarcasm, but at least there’s the return of a slight upward tilt of her lips. I’ll add that to the “win” column.
“See you around,” I say.
She inclines her head and then returns to staring at the fire. I head back to my side of the party, glancing over my shoulder a few times, and never once do I catch her looking back at me.
To the right, the football game is going strong. Rebecca’s team is lacking talent and on the losing end. Any other night, I’d jump into the game to help her out, but tonight, I hop back up onto the tailgate and settle in.
Meg’s still standing near the fire, still staring at it like she’s looking at some other time, some other place and wherever that place is, it’s causing her pain. A pit forms in my stomach. Even with the denial, she’s MC and I can’t help but wonder if her being here is going to cause problems for the Reign of Terror. I also can’t help but feel protective of her, too. If an MC hurt her and she’s here to heal, she’ll need a friend and she’s not going to find one on that side of the bonfire.
I’m curious. Nothing more. Nothing less. And my parents raised me to treat girls with respect. She’s new, she’s vulnerable, so tonight I’ll sit here and make sure no other asshole gives her a hard time. Tomorrow she’ll become somebody else’s problem. But tonight, I don’t mind being her lookout.
The First Loves Collection:
The First Understanding
Dare You To, the second book in the Pushing the Limits series, is possibly one of the most personal stories I’ve written. I have an emotional connection with Beth’s character, and twenty years ago, I met and married my own Ryan (Beth’s love interest in Dare You To).