Rake's Redemption (Wind Dragons MC #4)(44)

I sigh heavily. “I need a drink.”

“You need to have a proper talk with my brother,” Anna says.

“He’s not ready,” I say, and realize that I truly believe that. “He’s still hurting, and he’s not ready to even consider a future with me. He won’t see what’s right in front of him: that I’m his. No matter what. He’ll never find someone who’s more right for him than I am.”

Anna and Lana don’t know everything that happened back then, and to be honest, I don’t want to talk to them about it, which means they don’t understand just how complicated the situation is. All lines between Rake and me are blurred. Our past is messed-up, and our emotions are all over the place, yet there’s still something there, no matter how much we’ve both tried to deny it. Something, connecting us together. We can fight for it, to make it work, to strengthen the connection, or we can let it go and try to find it in someone else.

I want to fight, but I want him to fight too. There’s something we share that’s worth it—what we could have been if fate didn’t get in the way. The happily ever after that was stolen from us. It’s not going to be easy, but I think that in the end, we could get something back that we lost. Each other. The love we had. Maybe it’s a lost cause, but there’s a fine line between love and hate. After seeing him, seeing the sadness in his eyes, it’s like the coin flipped. I don’t want to hurt him. I want to heal him.

“Don’t let him know there’s going to be a future,” Lana says, grinning wolfishly.

“What do you mean?” I ask, resting my chin on my palms, giving her all my attention.

“Sometimes men don’t know what’s best for them,” she starts. “Why don’t you just tell him you want him? Be honest. He’ll get hooked, lines will get crossed, and before you know it, you’re on the back of his bike and the only one in his bed.”

My eyebrows rise. “That’s terrible advice. You’ve been writing one too many romance novels.”

Anna nods her head. “I think you should just be honest. Tell him how you feel.”

“If he doesn’t feel the same, it’s going to hurt,” I say quietly, looking down at my hands. “We might not get the happy ending. And I don’t want to play games with him. I just wish he could see what we could be.”

“Sometimes you have to play games to win. Nothing worth it comes easily, Bailey,” Lana says gently. “Just ask yourself this: Is he worth the gamble? Is he worth the chance of a broken heart? He either is or he isn’t. You’re either going to fight or you’re going to give up on the two of you ever being back together.”

“Will you always be wondering ‘what if’ if you don’t try?” Anna adds, green eyes sparkling. “You could end up having everything you were meant to have, Bailey. The love of a man who was meant for you.”

Lana looks at Anna. “Fuck. That line is going in a book.”

“Copyright,” Anna replies swiftly, grinning at her best friend. “You use it, I’ll get Faye to sue you.”

Lana rolls her eyes, then turns back to me. “What do you say? You going to officially join our crazy bunch?”

Am I going to put myself out there like this? Make the first move? Convince him we’re worth fighting for?

Fuck.

I am.

Fuck the past, it has no place here in the present. I don’t need the typical happy ending. I just need Rake.

I swallow. “Where is he right now?”





NINETEEN




WE find him at Rift.

The place is closed, only employees walking around the club, except for Rake, who is sitting at the bar alone, pouring his own drinks.

She puts her hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Eye on the prize.”

I stare at Rake’s muscular back. “Right.”

Anna grimaces, then shakes her head and smiles. “Fucking awkward when the prize is my brother’s penis.”

“Anna,” I growl.

Neither of them leave.

I sigh. “I’m calling in my favor from winning the drink competition. Please leave and don’t be nosy about anything that happens here tonight.”

“Fine. I’m going,” she says, putting her hands up. “Good luck.”

I watch her leave and then sit down on the stool next to Rake.

“No bartenders on duty?” I ask, staring at the bottle of Scotch. “Can I have some?”

I need it.

Desperately.

He turns to look at me with furrowed brows. “What are you doing here, Bailey?”

Feeling a little nervous, I take his glass and swallow a gulp. It tastes horrible and burns my throat, but I manage to swallow it.

I start to take another one until he gently takes the glass out of my hand. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

I notice his hands then.

Raw knuckles, swollen and looking extremely painful. He sees where I’m staring, then hides his hands under the bar.

“Bailey,” he continues. “If you don’t tell me what’s wrong, how am I supposed to fix it?”

I look into his beautiful eyes.

“Everything is okay. I just wanted to talk to you. We haven’t really spoken much since that day,” I shrug, licking my lips.