Page 19 of My Veteran Biker

"I thought you were dead," she says.

Her voice cracks on the last word. I see her throat move when she swallows, see her hands tremble before she folds them across her chest.

"I heard the gunfire and you were gone and I thought someone had killed you. I thought I'd have to identify your body. I thought—"

I kiss her.

I pull her against me and my mouth finds hers and she makes that sound, that same fucking sound I've been remembering for seventeen years.

Her hands come up to my chest, fingers pressing into my bare skin, and I'm lost.

She tastes like toothpaste and fear. Her body is soft everywhere mine is hard, her curves pressing into me in a way that makes my brain shut down and my body take over.

I get my hands on her hips, feel the width of them under my palms, and pull her tighter.

The wound pulls. Pain shoots through my side sharp enough to make me gasp.

She breaks the kiss and steps back, breathing hard.

"You're bleeding again," she says.

I look down. Fresh blood is seeping through the gauze. I don't care.

We stand there looking at each other in the harsh bathroom light. Her mouth is red from my kiss, her breathing uneven. I can see her pulse in her throat, fast and hard.

"Why did you do that?" she asks.

"Because I wanted to."

"That's not a reason."

"It's the only one that matters."

She shakes her head but she doesn't move away. Just stands there with her arms crossed over her chest, hair falling in her face, looking at me like she's trying to solve a problem that doesn't have a solution.

"Perry died alone," I say. "No one waiting for him. No one who noticed he was gone."

"I know. You told me."

"I've been alone for years. By choice. I told myself it was what I wanted."

"Was it?"

"I thought so. Until you came back."

She closes her eyes. When she opens them again they're bright with something I can't name.

"I'm terrified," she says. "That you'll get killed. That I'll build my life around you and you'll die and I'll have to start over. Again."

"I know."

"I can't do it, Knox. I can't be the person who waits and worries and makes herself smaller so you have room to be who you need to be. I already did that. I won't do it again."

"I'm not asking you to do that."

"Then what are you asking?"

"For a chance. To try. To not spend the rest of my life wondering what would've happened if I'd been brave enough to want something."