"Seeley," Che explained.
"Wasn't he gone most of the night dealing with the car?" I asked, feeling a stab of guilt that the guy I'd barely spoken a handful of words to doing all of the grunt work.
"He doesn't sleep much," Che explained. "Are those your bags by the back door?"
"Oh, good. I needed something to wear," I said, looking over at them.
Everything I owned, stuffed into two rolling suitcases and one small duffle bag.
I'd always prided myself on traveling light, not needing much to survive, but it suddenly looked like very little while situated in an actual home with furniture and personal touches.
I hadn't let myself give too much thought to getting my own place, but I had to admit that sleeping in a bed where you didn't have to wonder how many people had been on it before was nice.
Well, that wasn't exactly right, was it?
Of course other people had been in that bed.
Other women had been in that bed.
With Che.
Just the thought of that made my very sweet coffee taste too bitter to bear.
"What's the matter?" Che asked, always too good at reading my many, varied moods.
"Nothing. Just thinking. Oh, you didn't have to make me one," I said when he pushed a sesame bagel across the counter toward me.
"Butter, not cream cheese," he said as he piled the latter on his egg bagel.
"Yeah. How do you remember that kind of thing?" I asked, even if it was a silly question. I remembered all the preferences he'd told me too. And I spent a lot of time trying to convince myself it was just because I'd been paranoid about the interview, that I studied it all so hard, and it was impossible to shake now. Like figuring out how to multiply fractions—something that proved wholly useless in life, but I still remembered how to do regardless.
"Don't know. Just do. Eat. I'll bring your bags upstairs, so you can get changed," he said, grabbing his bagel, and moving off to do just that.
I was alone in the kitchen for a few moments before someone joined me. "We didn't really get properly introduced yesterday," I started, watching as he moved toward the coffee machine. "I'm Sass."
"McCoy," he said, giving me a nod.
"I know you guys probably don't like me very much right now with—"
"Stop," he cut me off. "The way I see it, you did something good for Che. Which was good for us. I might not like having another enemy to contend with, but I'm fine with helping him pay you back for that favor you did for him. I don't have any beef with you."
"But Huck..."
"Huck just likes to be a dick sometimes," McCoy said, shrugging. "You kind of have to be that to be in a position of power."
"I kind of thought you were a dick too," I admitted, getting a snort out of him.
"I am," he agreed, nodding. "Just a different kind."
"What kind?"
"The one who is suspicious of everyone."
"Well, I can certainly relate to that, so I can't call it a flaw. What about the others? Do I have to try to win any of them over?"
"Remy likes just about everyone until they give him a reason not to like them. Then shit gets ugly. Seeley just wants to do whatever is best for the club and his brothers."
"What about the other guy who was here?"
"Teddy? He's part of the club, but he's not part of the club," McCoy explained. "And it's hard to tell what he's thinking even if you've known him for years. And Harmon, well, these days, you gotta be on your toes. She can be chill and fun one minute, crying the next, or screaming about there not being any hot sauce for her chips after that."
"Hot sauce for her chips?" I asked.
"Hey, it's not the mustard sandwiches anymore, so I'm not complaining," he said, smirking.
"Is it going to be weird to have a baby in a biker clubhouse? You all live here, right?"
"Yeah, we all live here. We lived together when chopping cars, too. Huck is planning on an expansion. A sort of in-law area for Harmon and the baby. So they can be safe here, but also not involved in the parties and shit."
"What about when the rest of you find someone?"
"If we haven't yet, I doubt we will. We aren't exactly looking to settle down."
"Was Huck?" I asked. The idea of a man like him actively seeking marriage and children just didn't seem to make any sense.
"It's different."
"How?"
"Woman, I don't need to be thinking this hard this early in the morning," McCoy said, tone lighter than I expected from a man who'd been so serious the day before.
"You're just scared you're going to be next," I teased, laughing when he made the sign of the cross to ward off those evil, evil words of mine.