Loving Me, Trusting You(50)

“Where's Kimmi?” I ask instead. Really, the only person I'm interested in is Gaine, but I don't want anyone to know that yet. Not even myself. You're cutting him off, remember? Austin pauses and tries to smile, running a hand through his blonde hair and coming away dripping with sweat.

“Gettin' the group together. Things went well, and we got some good money, but the alarm got tripped on our way out. We've gotta move before folks start askin' questions.” He waits while Amy pulls Christy to her feet and grabs her book, tucking it into her purse as she moves forward, the muscles in her face tight, ready. Christy just looks terrified. I guess joining a biker gang is a lot harder when you're not f*cking the new President. I force the bitter thoughts back, trying to remember how nice Amy was to me at the pool. Not that it really matters. I mean, nice is fine and dandy, but she did waltz in here with zero experience and pull the rug out from under me. I wonder if my hatred for the bitch is going to have to start being strictly on the outside, like it is with Kimmi. After all, after our fight in the lobby, I can't let anyone know that I'm actually starting to like her.

“And Gaine?” I ask, seconds before he walks in the door.

For a split second, I don't see his ashen face or his darkened eyes, all I see is Gaine and my body reacts like it's been lit on fire, warming up and shining bright. Inside, I feel that panic start to cool, that anxiety lessen. What the f*ck? It's definitely, definitely, time to pull back and give myself some space. I blame my reaction on the romance novel which, admittedly, has made me a little hot and bothered, and try to frown when I start so speak. No sense in letting him know I was worried. He doesn't need to be led on anymore. I know what that's like, and even if the person who's doing it doesn't realize it, it hurts like hell.

“What the f*ck happened to you?” I ask as I rise to my feet and brush my hands down the front of my jeans. Unlike the two little princesses here, I'm already packed. “You see a ghost or something?” Gaine turns his gaze to meet mine and his eyes widen almost imperceptibly. If I wasn't looking straight into them, I probably wouldn't have noticed. He stands there silently for a moment before moving forward quickly, almost like he's falling towards me. When he's within touching distance, I hold up my hands and throw him my worst glare. “Gaine, what the hell is going on with you?” He reaches out for me, but I take a step back. “Don't you dare put your hands on me. I want an answer.” I look from him to Austin, who's finally taken Amy into his arms and put his tongue down her throat. It doesn't bother me as much as I feel it should. I love Austin, but I don't think I'm in love with him. My mind goes back to Tray and Kent, and how I surprised myself by sending Amy into the bathroom. Why did I do it? Why try to protect her? For him. I wanted him to be happy. And Gaine … is it the same for him? Of course it is. I want him to be happy, too. That's why I'm going to keep my distance. It works better for both of us.

“I got all mixed up and took a wrong turn, almost crashed my bike is all,” he says, but I can tell that's a lie. My eyes narrow, but I don't get the chance to respond before he's leaning forward and pressing his lips hard against mine, touching me but not forcing anything. And then he kissed me, and my heart exploded, just shattered into a million pieces and poisoned my body with love and lust. A virus and a disease, both catchable, only one curable. Love is the virus, of course, and while we can treat the symptoms, there's nothing we can do about the actual bug itself. Lust, well, that can be cured with a quick rut or a slow, steamboat of lovemaking extraordinaire, the kind where smoke curls out of your ears and your toes cramp up so bad you can't think. Huh. Glance Serone and Sali Bend, together forever. Who the f*ck woulda thunk?

I shove him back and wipe at my mouth like I really believe the smut in that stupid book, like I think I'm going to catch something from him.

“The hell, Gaine?” I ask as I try to avoid Amy and Austin's stares. Christy, I could give a shit less about, but the other two … I don't want them to get any ideas. “I don't know what just happened to you, but if you're going to lie to me, don't even think about putting your lips anywhere near mine. I can't stand the f*cking taste.” I move around him and start towards the door.

“Mireya,” he begins, but I cut him off with a middle finger and a grumbling of insults under my breath.

“Hijo de puta,” I snarl. “Son of a bitch.” I'm not an idiot. He needs to start realizing that by trying to protect me, he's only making me feel worse. I don't need to be protected. I can take care of myself. I just want him to realize that. Does he think I don't know why he shot out the tire on that bike? I know what those men were there for. I get it. They don't like bitches riding. Fine. I don't give a shit. I'm going to ride until the day they break my legs and leave me for dead on the side of the road. Even then they'd better be careful because if I can, I'll crawl my way to another bike and start all over again. I won't go down easy. I didn't then, and I won't now. If I can survive the hell Tray put me through before, I get through this. So what? A couple of gangs want to 'teach us a lesson', show other groups that they're not okay with the way we are? Screw them. They should know that the ultimate rule of the road is that there are no rules. I thought we were all out here to be free, to live the way we want to live. If codes and titles and patches are all that matter to them, then they're not really bikers anyway. The 'life' isn't about following a specific set of predetermined bullshit. If it was, it wouldn't be any different than the rest of society, than the place we're all looking to escape.