Hooked (Viking Bastards MC #1)(42)

“Never started.” The lie burns my throat, but what the hell. I finish my beer, and although I don’t want another I go fetch one anyway. We were together for a month, and I didn’t want us to finish, but she made her choice.

Ty grunts, and that’s the end of our deep and meaningful conversation.

…

Light blasts its way into my head and I groan. My head pounds and my mouth tastes so bad I want to hurl. My mood isn’t improved when a booted foot kicks my thigh.

I roll off the sofa in the club where I spent the night and hit the floor. At least it fully wakes me up, and I scowl up at my brother as he looks down at me with his usual unreadable expression.

“What the f*ck?” I rake my hand through my hair, but that just makes my brain hurt even worse. I stagger to my feet, and by the time I return from the bathroom, Gage’s sitting on the sofa with his feet propped on the table. By the look of it we’re the only two in the club. Not surprising, considering the day.

“You’re starting early this year.” He doesn’t even bother looking at me, but the censure in his voice pisses me off.

“Yeah. You here to give a lecture or drink?” I go to the bar to grab a couple of cold ones, but my stomach heaves at the thought of drinking them. I’d kill for a black coffee right now.

Fuck that. I take them back to the sofa and toss him one. He catches it one-handed but doesn’t open it.

“Had a call from Kat. She’s worried about you.”

That’s all I need, my kid sister ratting on me. “Unlike you, I have a social life.”

Gage doesn’t rise to the bait. “She reckons you’re *-whipped.”

I can’t figure out who I’m more pissed with—Kat for having the nerve to say that in the first place, or Gage for having the balls to throw it in my face.

I bang the beer on the table. “Stand up and say that.”

He complies with evident enthusiasm. “You sure you’re up for it?” His taunt is all the trigger I need, and my fist slams into his jaw.

Usually, we’re evenly matched, but Gage is sober and I can barely see straight. It doesn’t stop me getting a good few jabs at him, but when he lays me out I roll onto my side, spit blood, and hold up one hand.

He laughs, grabs my hand, and hauls me to my feet. “You’re losing it, man.”

He’s going to have a black eye by tonight, but it feels like he’s dislocated my jaw. I gingerly prod it. At least the pain offsets the hammering inside my skull.

“In your dreams.”

Gage folds his arms. “You serious about this chick?’

What the hell? “You want matching black eyes?”

“She’s the reason you blocked Gray from making prospect. No one does that for *.”

I’m sure there’s a sharp answer to that, but I can’t think of one. “She’s from f*cking Malibu.”

“Nice. No wonder she dumped your ass.”

I have the urge to punch my brother’s teeth down his throat. “She had to get back to her parents for Thanksgiving.” There’s a deliberate sneer in my voice, but it’s hard to keep up because all I can see is the stricken look on Grace’s face when I told her you’re a good f*ck.

What the hell’s wrong with me? Why didn’t I shut my f*cking mouth? Instead I let all the shit come out until I drove her away.

“Yeah,” Gage says. “Gave her a good excuse to cut and run. No way a girl like that wants anything more than a quick screw on the wrong side of the tracks.”

Irritation spikes through me. “She’s not like that.”

“A Malibu princess getting her thrills before she knuckles down and does what Daddy tells her.”

It’s like he’s deliberately goading me. “Shut the f*ck up.”

“Am I wrong?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose between thumb and forefinger and squeeze my eyes shut. I don’t want to talk about her, think about her, or see her again. Except I know I’m lying to myself, and worse than that, I’m convinced that Gage has somehow guessed it.

She didn’t cut and run. She might not have fallen all over my suggestion to stay for Thanksgiving, but she didn’t want to be finished with me.

No, she wanted me to spend Thanksgiving with her family, even after that godawful meeting with her mother and ex. It was just her being nice, and I’m not used to nice, so like a total prick I told her it was over.

Just because I didn’t want to admit to her that I needed her this week. Needed her today. Because I didn’t want to be alone, didn’t want to get blind drunk and have meaningless sex, not after being with her and seeing how different everything could be. And I wanted all that on my terms, because the minute I step into her world this crazy thing between us can go nowhere but to hell. She must know for us to work she needs to be with me. I don’t need more shit like Sunday morning.

I don’t do relationships, even though this thing I had with her is the closest I’ve ever come to one. Fuck that, I knew what we had, I just didn’t want to label it. The same way I’m so f*cking hard I don’t need to compromise for anyone, as long as I get my way.

Yeah, I got what I wanted all right. My freedom, the last word, and I lost the only woman who’s ever meant anything to me.

No way am I sharing that with my brother. He’d have me committed.