Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Last week, Rory and Sandra were even helping me look at career options. I don’t know if college is something I want to do, but now I feel like maybe I could and I have the breathing room to think about it.
“You can probably get some of the girls to help you decorate,” Mad Dog suggests. “They love that shit. Are you crying?”
I nod and wipe away a tear. It’s a good thing. It’s an amazing thing. “You guys… This might be one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me.”
“We love you. Of course we’re going to do nice fucking things.” Mad Dog pulls me into a hug. He pats my back like he’s not quite sure how to comfort me for happy tears.
“You what?” I whisper.
Rebel smiles. “Just because we don’t always say it doesn’t mean we don’t mean it.”
“Too soon?” Riptide asks.
“No, never too soon. I—I’m falling in love with you, too. I just wasn’t sure if I should say it,” I admit.
“Never too soon,” Mad Dog says with a grin. “Are you packed up? I think we should celebrate.”
“Yeah, I think I have pretty much everything now.”
Homes with people living in them feel alive in a way that empty ones don’t. There’s nothing about this place that feels like the house I shared with Mom anymore. The heart stopped beating. I’ve taken a lot of pictures, and I have all the things that mean anything right here.
The three of them.
“It’s a long drive home,” Riptide points out.
“Yup, we should probably get on the road soon.” I’m driving my car back. As much as I like riding on the back of their motorcycles, I waited a lot of tables to buy my little piece of junk, and I’m not ready to give up the freedom it brings.
His grin is pure sexy menace. “I was thinking more along the lines of this is the last chance you have to fool around in your childhood room.”
“No…”
Mad Dog cocks his head. “He’s got a point.”
“No…?”
Rebel raises an eyebrow.
I grin. Without saying a word, I spin on my heel and sprint to the back of the house. Three sets of booted feet pound the floor behind me. An arm goes around my waist, scooping me up and carrying me the rest of the way. I burst out laughing as I’m tossed on the bed and bounce.
Riptide is on me in a flash. He slides his fingers into my hair and kisses me hard. I moan into his mouth, and someone starts tugging on my jeans. If Dad could see me now—no. Ew.
I rip my mouth away with a gasp. “Does anyone have a condom?”
“Who do you think we are?” Rebel asks.
Right. I hooked up with the sexual health Boy Scouts.
“Then what are you waiting for?”
39
MELODY
The courtyard in front of the clubhouse is bathed in sunlight, glinting off all the motorcycles parked there. It’s a hot day, but a breeze picked up today, just enough to make it bearable, which I’m going to take as a good sign. Everything points to today being an amazing day.
I sent an invitation to Dad, but I’m not surprised I never got a reply. I’d just feel bad if I didn’t at least try. It’s okay. Just because my blood isn’t coming doesn’t mean I’m not surrounded by family, and by now I consider everyone in the Screaming Eagles family.
It took forever to find a dress I liked, not made easier by the fact that I hardly ever wear a dress to begin with, so when Sandra suggested that I dress up in a way that felt comfortable instead, I kind of jumped on the opportunity. I can look sexy for the guys even if they’re going to have to work a little to get into my pants afterward, as she put it.
My skintight jeans are new, just worked in enough to fit well. My motorcycle boots, a representation of the culture that brought us all together, make me look just bikery enough to make it clear where we are. A fitted V-neck T-shirt, pale pastel pink, exposing a little belly and low cut enough to show off a little cleavage, should keep their eyes on me. I’m wearing a silver chain around my neck that they got me for my birthday. It’s formed like a very fine drive chain, and there are three silver motorcycles that hang like little pendants. And underneath, my lingerie is black and the same pale pink as my shirt, which I’m sure they’re going to love peeling off me after the ceremony.
We’re getting hitched. For real. Well, not for real as the city hall sees it, but in the way that matters—the way the club sees it. I’m becoming their old lady and they’re becoming my old men, even though we’re all still somewhere in our twenties. And since it’s nice out, we’re doing it outside.