Manic blatantly ignored Onyx while staring at me unabashedly. “You’re hot.”
I snickered, placing my palm in front of my mouth while Onyx seemed like he was on the verge of choking the club’s road captain.
“So, I’m going to ignore you and walk away before your friend Jack gets acquainted with my foot up your ass.”
I couldn’t stop smiling as Onyx brushed past Manic towards the bar. “Drink?”
“Dear God, yes.”
He rounded the bar, reaching for the tequila on the top shelf and pouring two shots. We tossed it back without even blinking, neither of us cringing as the burn settled in our stomachs.
After pouring the second round, he placed the bottle back and leaned over the counter, looking me in the eye. “Tell me something.”
“Like what?”
“Anything.”
I shrugged, leisurely drawing circles around the edge of the shot glass. “I’m your typical stereotyped troubled girl. Parents died when I was a teenager, and my brother took care of me ever since.” I picked up the glass and shot the tequila down my throat. “I rode with some clubs, traveled around looking for peace, yet always finding trouble.”
Onyx reached out and touched my arm covered in tats. “Do any of these mean something?”
“Some.” I didn’t want to elaborate.
“And the poison ivy on your side?”
I smiled. “It’s a warning.”
“What kind of warning?”
Our eyes met. “That I’m poisonous, especially to those closest to me.”
Onyx’s lips curved at the edges. “I think it’s more like you can create an itch that’s impossible to scratch.”
I burst out laughing. “Oh, my God. Where do you get all these lame lines?”
“It’s a talent.”
“It’s more like a curse.”
Our laughs lingered in the eerie silence of a now deserted bar. It was the perfect moment. “And you. What’s your emotional wound?”
He frowned. “My what?”
“You know…youremotional wound. Everyone has one. Like, you fuck girls with dark hair because they remind you of a mom who deserted you. Or you don’t screw girls with blue eyes because your dead girlfriend had the most beautiful blue eyes.” I waved my hand around. “You know, some tragedy that fucked you up and shaped you into who you are today.”
“Is that what happened to you? Some tragic event make you go on the road alone?”
And just like that, he had turned the tables, shined the motherfucking spotlight on me.
I tried to keep a straight face. “I asked you first.”
Icy eyes stared at me, studied me, like he was thinking what his next response would be. “What makes you think I have one?”
“Oh, I don’t think you have one. You have several.”
He shot me a charming grin, tucking a strand of dirty blond hair behind his ear. “Let’s just say all my wounds start and end with this club.”
“Yo, Onyx,” Granite called. “Bring your lady friend and join us.”