I came back into the bedroom just as Colt was stirring. His sleepy eyes opened and he turned his head, his gaze finding me watching him. He smiled.
“Mornin’.”
“Hmmm.”
“Is that anyway to greet your man?”
I pushed away from the doorway and sauntered over to him. When I got to his side of the bed, I leaned down, intending to brush my lips across his, but he clearly had other ideas. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me toward him.
“How’s your shoulder?” he asked, nuzzling my neck.
“It’s okay. How’s your chest?”
“From the tattoo, or from the claws of a foxy vixen I was in bed with last night?”
I laughed, feeling warm and secure. “Either. Both.”
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
My fingers traced the swirls of artwork along his upper arm and bicep. “None of this seems real.” I rested my head against his chest, his light hair tickling my ear.
His hands skimmed underneath my shirt to rest against the small of my back as he listened to me talk.
“Three weeks ago, I was a bartender. I was getting harassed by my newly engaged best friend about my lack of living life to its fullest and I’d never even thought once about motorcycle clubs.”
I closed my eyes, enjoying the sound of his heartbeat in my ear, the steady rhythm of it solid and sure.
“Never know what life is gonna throw at you, ya know?” he said.
“That’s the truth. Sometimes I feel like…”
When I didn’t go on, Colt gently prodded me to continue.
“I feel like I react to life. Like, things happentome and I’m just along for the ride.”
“You do remember that you walked up to a stranger in a bar and asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend, don’t you? If you ask me, that sounds like someone who takes control. That sounds like someone who doesn’t let life come at them.”
“I only did that out of a reaction,” I explained.
“Want to know what I think?” he asked quietly.
I nodded.
“I think you changed your entire life that night at Dive Bar when you walked up to me. I think even if you hadn’t gotten wrapped up in this Richie shit, you’d still be here with me, right now.”
“Do you really believe that?” I smiled and lifted my head to look at him
“Yeah, I do.” His dark eyes softened. “You’d be here in my bed.” He brushed the hair away from my cheek. “You’re still worried about what people think, aren’t you?”
“I guess I am, yeah.” I bit my lip. “I feel like—never mind.”
“Nah, you can’t do that. You gotta say it now.”
“I feel like people will think I’m trading sex for protection.”
“People? Or your best friend? Or you?”
He didn’t sound angry; I’d expected him to sound angry.