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“Not in the slightest,” he replies, his tone firm, unyielding.
A slow smile curls on my lips.
It’s impossible not to admire the sheer audacity of this man standing before me.
Here he is, laying it all out, no bullshit, no games. Just pure honesty. And damn if that doesn’t make my heartbeat kick up a notch.
A touch of amusement seeps into my voice. “I guess we’re really doing the damn thing and seeing where this goes.”
His face lights up, relief mingling with excitement.
There’s something raw and real in his expression that makes me believe maybe—just maybe—this could be different.
Blake never looked at me the way Bama is right now, and that’s so cool.
My hand reaches out on its own accord, fingers brushing against his tattooed chest. His skin is warm beneath my touch, and I can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat.
“You’re full of surprises, you know that?” I murmur, more to myself than to him.
“Stick around, and you’ll see just how many,” he grins, his eyes sparkling with that familiar mischievous glint. “Come on, let’s get a drink.”
We make our way to the bar, and I feel the stares from some of the club members.
They're curious, maybe even a bit judgmental. But Bama’s presence next to me feels like a shield, warding off any unwelcome attention.
He orders us a couple of beers, sliding one over to me with an easy grin.
He raises his beer bottle, “To seeing where this goes,”
I echo him and smile.
We both take long swigs, the cold liquid a welcome distraction from the intensity of our earlier conversation.
The clubhouse starts to fill up, the air buzzing with laughter and loud conversations.
People drift in, greeting each other with rough hugs and slaps on the back. This really is a second family to a lot of people.
“Looks like it’s gonna be a full house tonight,” Bama observes, his eyes scanning the room.
“Yeah,” I agree, taking another sip of my beer. “Guess everyone wants to blow off some steam.”
“Can’t blame ‘em,” he says, turning his attention back to me. “But right now, all I care about is you.”
“Smooth talker,” I laugh, shaking my head. “You always like this?”
“Only when it matters,” he replies, his gaze unwavering.
“Well, keep it up,” I say, feeling a strange mixture of vulnerability and excitement. “I kinda like it.”
“Good to know,” he smirks, leaning closer. “Wanna go upstairs?” Bama’s voice cuts through the haze of smoke and chatter.
He licks his lips, eyes locked on mine, making my pulse quicken.
“Upstairs?” I tilt my head, eyebrow raised. “You mean your bedroom?”
“Yeah,” he says, straightforward as ever.
His blue eyes burn with a mix of need and something deeper—something that makes my entire body run hot.
