Page 35 of Tracked By Sasquatch

“Oh, no you don’t, sister,” Scott admonished her and she slipped past him to head inside. “We have a deal, and I want details. Dirty sweaty pierced tongue details.”

They’d settled on the couch, splitting the breakfast sandwich Harmon had made. Scott removed the top of the bagel while Devin gaped at him.

“What? Too many carbs. I didn’t just run five miles to carb-load.”

Devin just rolled her eyes and snatched his discarded top to nibble on. “If you couldn’t tell,” she waved down her body. “I never skip carbs.”

Scott’s eyes hardened at her words. She realized how similar his look was to Jasper’s when she’d talked down about herself.

Funny thing was that her comment was habit. She’d made fun of herself for so long before others could, that even though she didn’t actually feel bad about her body that morning, she’d made the comment out of habit.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Scott.” She patted his knee. “Really it’s just… normally what I’d say when someone mentions calories of food or sizes, or anything really. Honestly, I didn’t even think about it, certainly don’t feel it, not right now, not after…”

She trailed off because how could she explain it to someone who looked like Scott did. The type of man who ran miles, as in multiple, to start his day.

Did she believe everything Jasper had said about her body? No. Did she believe that he believed it? Yeah, maybe. Did it erase years of hating the skin she was stuck in? Absolutely not. But did she feel a bit kinder toward herself this morning? Most certainly.

And wasn’t that a start?

How could she be completely repulsed by the body that had been capable of so much pleasure? Ecstasy like she’d never known. She couldn’t.

She had Jasper to thank for that. When he’d looked at her the way he had in the mirror, with reverence and longing, he’d gifted her a microscopic piece of love for herself. If he’d give her more of those looks, she could hoard those tiny pieces, collect them. With enough bits, she could cobble them together into something resembling self-love and appreciation for the body that he’d worshipped so thoroughly.

“Damn, woman. He must’ve dicked you down good to cause that look on your face. If you don’t spill right now, I am no longer your friend.”

Smacking his arm playfully, Devin tried to weasel out of spilling anything. The memories were for her, and she felt greedy over their time together. “It was… nice.”

“Nice? Your grandma’s apple pie is nice. A cold beer after a long day is nice. If sex is just nice, I’ll stick to Rosie Palm and her five sisters. Too much prep and effort for just nice. Besides, you’re a lying bitch. Nice doesn’t do that.” He pointed at her face.

“You are practically glowing under all that tension and nervousness. Only freak nasty does that. Give me something, sister. Anything. Just a morsel. Let me live vicariously through you. I haven’t been with a man like that in far too long.”

“Well, he certainly knows what he’s doing.” She threw her hands up to halt the questions she knew he’d probably rapid-fire at her about technique and size.

Scott had zero boundaries. He was an open book sharing all his exploits with her. She wished she could return the favor. If Jasper had been some random encounter, maybe she could’ve. Instead, she felt protective of it, almost like it was more than just a get back on the horse experience she’d needed. “It was better than nice, it was amazing.”

“I bet it was.”

“Yes, but it wasn’t just the sex. It was him, or rather the way he looked at me.” She twisted her hands in her lap. “It was like he saw me, Scott. Saw past the rolls and the cellulite. He looked at me like I was desirable.” Like he cared, really cared.

“Girl, I’ve been telling you that since we met. You just never believed me. So…” he waggled his eyebrows. “Are you two a thing now? What does your brother think of that?”

Devin’s head snapped up. “He doesn’t know and if he ever found out, all hell would break loose.”

Scott’s eyes flashed with something and a devilish grin crossed his lips. “So, would the big beefy bikers fight? All sweaty muscles and testosterone? Because if so, yes, please.”

Despite the gravity of what lay ahead, Devin laughed. “First of all, my brother couldn’t look less like a biker if he tried, and secondly, I don’t want them fighting. The last thing I want to do is drive a wedge between my brother and the people he cares about most in the world.”

Scott raised an eyebrow in a way she understood all too well. “Spit it out. Go on,” she told him.

“You, Devin. He cares about you the most in the world, but you hammered that wedge in with your own two hands. Why do you always put everyone else above you?”

Scott just hit on something she wasn’t ready to face yet.

“Look, I must get on the road. You sure you don’t want to tag along for the ride?”

“Did you change your mind?” She knew what he meant without explanation. He wanted to come with her to face down Thom and her mother, but she’d refused.

“No.”