“More like who, and you know the answer to that, I think.”
I grin. “I just might.”
* * *
For two glorious weeks, Rob and I are tight. Everything’s perfect. We go out on a few dates, but mostly, we just spend time together.
Not just time together in bed either, although there is plenty of sexy times.
I don't know if it's right or fair because, honestly, it doesn't feel right or fair, but I avoid Ace, Gabe, and Zac during these past two weeks.
I don’t trust myself.
And I hate that.
My father hasn’t made another appearance, and everything is perfect.
But then I have to go and fuck things up again.
Because that’s what I do best.
Rob and I are at a diner. Like every occasion when we go out, the waitress is making eyes at him, but he doesn't seem to notice, and I've stopped caring because he's mine. I'm his. We're good. No, we're golden.
“I have to say that I’m happy,” I tell Rob. “I’m happier than I’ve been in a long while.”
“I’m glad. Have you talked to your mom recently?”
"No. The last time we spoke, we decided that it might be better to talk only in emergencies. We still text, but we're more low-key. I don't know. Probably unnecessary, but… I can't lose her."
“And if your father finds her, you think you’ll lose her?”
I hesitate. I still haven’t told him about the mafia bit.
"I don't want to talk about my parents. How about we talk about…" I look around, and my gaze falls on his leather jacket. The back of it has a ghost of a skeleton grim reaper type thing on it in honor of his motorcycle club. "Tell me about the Grim Reapers. You never really talk about club stuff with me."
“There’s a reason for that.” He chuckles. “I can’t exactly talk about it.”
“Ah, of course. Members only. I get it.” I shrug. “And you have a meeting going on next weekend for it.”
“Yes. It’s not just a name.”
“Good. I wouldn’t want you to be just a figurehead or something.”
“No? Have I told you lately that I love it when you say ‘head’?”
I burst out laughing. “I’m going to go out on a limb here, but I think this might be the first time.”
“Well, I like it.”
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Which one?” He winks.
“So…” I stir my drink with my straw to give me an excuse not to look at him. “Things have been going pretty good between us, don’t you think?”
“Yes.” He leans forward. “Where are you going with this?”
“Nothing. I’m just happy.”