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A bark of laughter comes from Fuse, while my brother and Switch look on intently. The prospect grins wider.
“So, that’s a yes?”
“That’s a stay in your own fucking lane.”
The brunette on Switch’s lap rolls her eyes, and mutters loudly, “God, she’s annoying already.”
Turning away from the prospect, I give her a sweet smile. “And yet here you are, listening.”
The blonde next to her scoffs loudly, going to stand, but my brother’s hand on her arm stops her immediately. Switch and Fuse tense at the same time.
The prospect plants his hands on the pool cue beside him. “Lemme guess. You’re somebody’s old lady?”
Dude…you have no idea.
“Absolutely not.”
“Huh.” His gaze drags over me. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“Could’ve fooled you into thinking what, exactly?” I challenge, standing up to go toe to toe with him even if he’s half a foot taller than me.
“That you belong here.”
I tilt my head slightly. “I do, just like you do. Prospects are welcome, aren’t they? You’re here.”
“Women aren’t prospects,” he gestures vaguely toward the room around us, “and you seem to know how clubs work.”
If only you knew.
Something dark and sharp almost rises in my chest at that. If only he knew how many men I’ve ruined for saying less. The room goes noticeably quieter. Lennox shifts in his seat, moving Barbie off his lap, but I cut my eyes toward him. I’ve got this.
I shrug casually, turning back to the prospect. “Maybe I know more than you think.”
“Doubt it.”
“Mason,” one of the older bikers warns from the bar, amusement thick in his voice.
“What?” he asks without looking away from me.
The older member smirks into his beer. “You’re getting your ass kicked in this conversation.”
Laughter ripples through the room and Mason ignores it. “So, what brings you here then?”
Before I can answer, another prospect walks in carrying his helmet. “Whose fucking Ninja is outside?” he asks.
For fuck’s sake.
Mason snorts, pointing at me. “Probably hers, based on how different she needs to be.”
The second prospect looks genuinely confused. “Seriously?”
“Is that a problem?” I ask calmly.
“Nah,” he says slowly. “Just figured clubs usually attracted real bikers.”
The women laugh immediately, a couple members joining in.
“You know what’s funny?” I ask, looking between the two prospects.
