As if sensing my thoughts, Shane shook his head. “That fucker keeps wipes in his car. Fucking baby wipes in a biker’s car. Had me wipe down before we burned my shit.”
“So it’s handled,” Ryan said, moving toward his brother.
“Pops will fill you in. I think you’re in 3A with Eli, but everyone is in 5A with Pops so they can get the low down,” Shane said, as Ryan stood and moved toward the door.
“We’ll see you guys in the morning,” Ryan said, giving me a small smile before he left.
“I see you and Ry bonded finally,” Shane said, sliding the locks for the door while reaching to remove his shirt. “He’s a hard fuck to know, but he’s good in a crisis.”
I nodded, watching as he undressed, finding myself unusually detached where I would usually be salivating and trying like hell to not jump his bones.
“I’m gonna hop in the shower. You want, join me in five.”
He said it as he walked into the bathroom and half-closed the door.
I figured the five minutes was his way of making sure he had all the blood off of him. Ross’ blood.
I was still trying to fully wrap my head around that idea. Death was weird that way. It was hard to fully accept. Sometimes you still expected to see that person again, have them pop around a corner, call you on the phone.
Even though those were the last things I wanted to happen where Ross was concerned, it was still taking a bit to settle in.
“Baby,” Shane called, making my head snap in that direction, wondering how long I had been spaced out again. “Come here,” he said, but it wasn’t demanding, it was almost a question. I climbed off the bed and moved into the bathroom, mostly steamed up despite the fan being on, like he had had the water on hot enough to blister. His eyes were on me, expectant. Still a bit numb, but understanding that he wanted me close, I quickly stripped out of my clothes and climbed in the shower. The second I slid under the spray, his arms went around me, tight, reassuring, protective. He pulled me to his chest and folded his arms around my back, one across my shoulder, the other around my hips. “Talk to me,” he said into my hair.
“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted honestly.
“Let’s start with this,” he said, giving me a squeeze. “Are you mad at me?” My head was shaking no before he even finished. “Upset with me?” he went on and I shook my head again. “Maybe just a little freaked?” At that, I nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed and I could hear and feel him exhale hard. “Me too.”
“I’m sorry you had to do that.”
“Don’t,” he said, voice firm. “Don’t be sorry about anything. You didn’t make me do it. You didn’t even ask. In fact, I’m figuring you came here to stop me. This was my doing alone and I won’t have you taking any of it on. Got it?”
I felt myself smiling against his shoulder. “I don’t care if you are a killer,” I started, trying to get to the point where we could be comfortable with the topic, even though it felt forced, “you don’t get to boss me around.”
To that, he snorted. “I got a feeling that I am going to be the one bossed around.”
“That’s not untrue,” I said, taking a deep breath again, surprised how good it felt, sure down to my bones that I truly hadn’t taken a proper breath since the day I met Ross.
“So you wanna have a litter of kids with me, huh?” he asked, as I knew he would.
“Some day, yeah,” I admitted because it felt right too.
“All boys?” he asked.
“I can’t have girls. Not with you as their father. They would never be allowed to date.”
“Fuck no,” he agreed, making me smile big. I liked that. I liked that even the idea of his very fictional little girls getting hurt created such a strong reaction in him. “But I’d be happy with either. Your eyes on a little girl…” he started and I was shaking my head.
“Your eyes,” I disagreed.
“Don’t think we get to pick,” he said, sounding amused, his voice warm. “But we can just keep making ‘em until we get one with my eyes.” He paused for a long time, both of us lost in our thoughts, his hands moving up and down my back.
Maybe we were still new and talk about babies was premature, but it felt right. There was no denying the fact that Shane and I had had a connection since we met. The more we interacted, the stronger it got. We knew each other before we even spoke. We were on the same wavelength. We simply… fit.