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For all of his introspection, for all of his soul-searching, he didn’t need to think at all before he typed out a response.
Kane: One hour. Your place.
He needed the time to get presentable. His apartment was a quick ride; he made it home in minutes. It took a bit longer in the shower to clean off the evidence of the road.
Once he was clean, he wrapped a towel around his waist and stopped at the sink to brush his teeth. Afterward, he forced himself to look in the mirror. He’d avoided it for so long, he could barely remember the last time he studied his reflection.
Damn, he looked like shit. Why any woman would want to get near him was a mystery he couldn’t begin to unravel. He used to be a good-looking guy, but the scar gave him a rough edge he could never erase. The hair and the beard, on the other hand, those things he could do something about.
But how much? She’d know it was for her. She’d have to.
He couldn’t erase everything he’d become in the last thirteen years. But he could do something. He pulled out the drawer beneath the sink and dug around inside before his hand landed on the thick-handled scissors inside.
With a deep breath, he lifted them up and began to cut.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Amanda
The setting sun cast an orange glow through the sliding glass door as the minutes ticked closer to Kane’s arrival. Amanda had wanted to call him the moment she’d walked out of her father’s house, but she forced herself to think long and hard about it first.
What was she doing with him? Was she trying to get back what they’d lost? Sure, those stolen moments in his arms had moved the earth beneath her feet, but did they have any chance of something more? He was in a biker gang, for God’s sake.
His hair was longer than hers, tattoos covered his arms and who knows what else, but it was way more than the physical. Kane was different and in ways she still probably knew nothing about. He’d sworn he would never be part of club life. The drugs, the free sex, the misogyny and complete disregard for the rules of law or society.
She was no prude, but she could never share her man with another woman, certainly not several other women. She couldn’t live with constant fear for his safety or his freedom. With a man she really loved, she wanted everything he could give: every birthday, every Christmas, every kiss, every dream, every fucking fantasy.
For all she knew, Kane could have a dozen kids out there with as many different women. He could be getting a blowjob from some random stranger right now without even thinking twice because the club considered it normal. She’d seen it firsthand when they’d been dating. Kane hadn’t lived that way, but his father did…his brother too.
Scott was such a douchebag. He used to call her Your Highness or Princess Bitch, though she’d never done anything but try to be nice to him. She hoped he got a nasty STD from one of his club girls. Thinking of a dozen ways Scott’s dick could fall off kept her mind from circling around the hard questions about her and Kane.
Then a knock sounded at her door. She’d told Mickey, her doorman, Kane had a permanent pass to come up to her floor. God knew what he thought going from Nathan’s high-class appearance to Kane’s scruffy biker look. He’d have no idea Nathan’s three-piece suit actually hid a monster underneath, while Kane’s fuck-you exterior housed a heart of gold.
She smoothed her hands over her hair before turning the knob to open the door. Her greeting died in her throat when she saw him.
Trimming his beard shouldn’t have made so much of a difference, but he took her breath away. Yes, his hair was still long, but it was pulled back into a tame, low ponytail. The long sleeves of his black T-shirt covered his tattoos. He looked more like the Kane she remembered than she would have thought possible. Different, but the same.
“Wow,” she breathed, and his brown eyes twinkled.
“I’ll takewowover hello any day.” He tilted his head. “Are you going to invite me in?”
Her cheeks flamed as she stepped aside. “Cocky doesn’t suit you,” she said primly.
“I’d say it suits fine.” He winked.
He fucking winked at her.
She closed the door, unable to stifle her smile. When she turned back to him, though, she was paralyzed by how awkward this all was. What she really wanted to do was throw herself in his arms, breathe in his scent, feel him all around her…inside of her. Sex wasn’t the answer, though, at least not yet. “Would you like a drink?”
He walked over to the bookshelf where she had a framed picture of her and Mike from around the time she and Kane had been together. He picked it up for a closer look. “Yeah. A drink sounds good.”
“I, uh, I’m not sure what you like anymore.” Why did it hurt so much to admit?
Kane looked up from the picture. “I’m still me, Mandy.”
For some reason, his quiet words punched her in the gut. Everything had changed, but he claimed he was still the same. It was what she’d wanted, but it only seemed to drive home all the years she missed. Time she could have had with him but bargained away to her dad.
Tears clouded her vision. She turned away, but they spilled down her cheeks before she could hide them. What the hell was wrong with her? She couldn’t even remember the last time she cried.
