I quickly tore my eyes away from his. “I wouldn’t call it trouble...exactly,” I spoke slowly, unsure if I wanted to expose my sexual escapades with her. Not that I didn’t trust her. I instinctively felt this woman was going to become my friend. You know how you just have that feeling with someone? It was what I got with her and all of the women I had encountered thus far. Women that just happened to be connected to the motorcycle club the man I was fucking was in. I didn’t want to tangle my web anymore until I knew what the heck was going on. Or until I found the willpower to stop creeping over to his house in the dead of night.
“He doesn’t seem to like me for some reason,” I continued, making eye contact, hoping my lie wasn’t obvious. “I’ve run into him a few times and I think he finds me...unfavorable.”
“Honey, that’s Bull. He’d pull his gun on a two-year-old child that dropped an ice cream on his motorcycle boot. But that stare—” Her eyes moved to him again. I chose not to move my gaze. “It’s got something else in it,” she mused, something working behind her eyes. “He’s into you,” she said finally in amazement.
I managed a snort. “Not likely,” I scoffed. “In order for a man to be ‘into you’ he must harbor some friendly feelings towards you. That man—” I pointed with my head, still not looking at him. “Does not harbor any friendly feelings towards me,” I declared with certainty. Amy sipped her drink, her brows furrowed.
“Wouldn’t be so sure, Mia,” she said quietly.
Thankfully, the talk moved on after that, though Amy still gave Zane some questionable looks. Gwen managed to extract herself from her scary but totally hot husband to join us, giving me a warm hug like I was an old friend. Before I knew it, our table was buzzing with people. Cade had sauntered over to claim Gwen onto his lap at one point, as did Brock with Amy. They chatted easily with me and were obviously deeply in love with their wives. Men stopped to shoot the shit and introduce themselves. Some were just as intimidating as they looked and others were surprisingly friendly, despite their gruff exteriors. I found myself having a good time and had drunk more beers than I intended. Gwen had told me she’d take me home, having declared she was the club’s sober driver for the next few months with a grin.
I stepped away from the party to call my daughter, feeling like a bad mother. I was at a biker gathering, slightly tipsy on beer. Not responsible parenting. Granted, Lexie had band practice that would most likely go into the night, but still.
“Hey, Momma,” she greeted breathlessly after a few rings.
“Why are you out of breath? Are you throwing a raging party without me?” I asked, feigning disapproval. “Please tell me you at least are throwing a good one.”
“I would never throw a rager without you Mom,” Lexie told me seriously, “Who else would pour the Jell-O shots?”
I laughed at my beautifully na?ve teenager. “One does not pour Jell-O shots, Grasshopper. Much to learn, you have.”
The fact that my sixteen-year-old didn’t know the semantics of a staple party drink had me feeling mighty proud of myself. Prior to getting knocked up with her, I was a Jell-O shot queen. And that was at fifteen. I was so glad she didn’t take after me. Only in looks, at least. Kid was beautiful, like her stunning mother, of course.
“I’ve just finished up band practice—boys are just having dinner. That cool?” she asked.
“We have food?” I asked back, screwing up my nose.
“No, we’re ordering pizza,” she replied lightly. “We really need to go grocery shopping.”
“Yes, one day we shall. You okay if I’m out another hour or so?” I asked hesitantly. “I can totally come home at any moment if you need me. And also to break up any ragers you decide to throw between now and then,” I added quickly.
“No, Mom, I don’t mind at all,” she paused. “I’m happy, actually. You’ve never gone out, had fun. I’m glad you are,” she said quietly. “I’m good. We’re going to write some songs after dinner I think, so take your time.”
I chewed my lip. I was torn. I actually was having a good time. And despite how ridiculous it sounded, I trusted Lexie and her bandmates. If she said they were eating pizza and writing songs, that’s exactly what they were doing. Also, Lexie was a terrible liar. Thank God.
“Okay, Dollface. I won’t be late. Be sure to let me know if you’ve got any number ones brewing. As your Momager, it’s my duty to know,” I told her with mock seriousness.
“Will do, Mom. Love you,” she called.
“Love you to the moon,” I said softly.
I hung up the phone, slipping it in my pocket. I had intended on heading back to the party, realizing I had moved into a dark corner close to the entrance of the clubhouse.
A hand clutched my hip and yanked me into a sweaty body.
“Well, hello there, darlin,’” a voice drawled. “Hanging out in dark corners, dangerous for such a sweet piece like you. Lucky I found you.” The voice reeked of alcohol, his words slightly slurred.
I couldn’t make him out in the dull light, but I could feel his hands running up my sides. Anxiety nipped at me. I wasn’t afraid enough to cry out...yet. I wasn’t even sure if anyone would hear me over the sounds of the music.