Page 21 of My Wild Biker

I wrap my arm around his waist and feel his heart beating steady against my palm. Outside the cicadas keep screaming. Inside this sparse temporary house I'm lying with a man I've known two days who just beat someone unconscious in front of me, and instead of being afraid I feel safer than I have in months.

That should probably worry me.

Instead I press my face against his chest and breathe him in. Leather and sweat and something underneath that's just him.

"Stay tonight," he says quietly.

"Okay."

"And tomorrow. Come to church with me. Meet everyone properly. See what this world looks like from the inside."

I lift my head to look at him. "You sure about that?"

"No. But I'm asking anyway."

"What does it mean if I come to church? To them?"

"Means you're not just someone I'm spending time with. Means you matter. Means if anything happens to you, the club will treat it like family."

"That's a lot of weight for three days."

"Yeah. It is." He watches me steady. "But I want you to come anyway."

I think about Katherine earlier, how she lit up when she saw me. How Tate looked at Chuck with something like approval. How Walt called Clint this morning because he was excited that Chuck had finally shown interest in someone.

I think about Sunday and Millbrook and the next four weeks in a town I've never been to, building relationships I'll leave behind, doing work that matters but never staying long enough for it to feel like home.

I think about how my whole life for three years has been built around protection through motion, and how lying here in Chuck's arms feels like the opposite of that.

"Okay," I say. "I'll come."

Something in his expression softens. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I settle back against his chest. "But I'm not making any promises past Sunday."

"I'm not asking you to." His hand runs down my back, slow and steady. "Just asking for two more days."

"Two more days," I agree.

We lie there quiet for a while. His breathing evens out but I don't think he's asleep yet. My mind is still racing, replaying the violence, the blood, the way he moved, the way he looked at me after like he was waiting for me to leave.

"Chuck?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for being honest. About what you are, what you do. I know that probably wasn't easy."

"Easier than lying and having you find out later." He's quiet for a moment. "Most women see what I am and leave. The ones who stay usually do it because they're attracted to the danger or they think they can change me. You're the first one who seems to actually understand that this is just who I am. Not damaged, not fixable. Just this."

"I don't want to change you."

"I know. That's why I'm asking you to stay two more days."

I close my eyes and let myself just be here. In this moment. With this man. Making choices that don't make sense but feel right anyway.

Eventually sleep comes, and when it does I dream about staying longer than Sunday.

Chapter 6 — Chuck