Going Rogue Read online

  “As long as she’s breathing, I’ll be here,” he replies, glancing down at his bike. “Want to go for a ride? I heard a little animosity in your voice when you were yelling at me to move my bike, so I’ve put it down to the fact that you must have something against them. What’s the story?”

  “No story,” I tell him, cocking my hip. “Just statistics that speak for themselves. And so you did hear me when I was yelling.”

  If I’m being honest, there’s something about a man on a motorcycle that puts my guard right up. Probably because I’ve been burned by one before. I don’t really want to make that mistake again if I can help it.

  He laughs. “Maybe. You ever been on a bike?” he asks me, giving me a once-over. “I’m going to guess no.”

  “You’d be guessing right,” I tell him, which is actually kind of a sore spot. I unlock my car door with a press of a button. “I’d like to keep my head where it is, thank you very much. I happen to like the way it sits pretty on my neck.”

  “You’ll be fine, I promise. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that beautiful face of yours,” he replies, grinning. “Or any other part of you. You can’t live by statistics. That shit is depressing.”

  “You can’t always live on the edge either,” I fire back, taking a step toward the driver’s seat. “I don’t need an adrenaline kick; I’m perfectly happy just as I am, thank you.”

  My phone beeps with a message from my coworker Marissa, asking if I can cover her shift on my only day off this week.

  “And this is why I have no friends,” I mutter to myself, replying with a firm no. I need my day off to keep my sanity, sleep in, and have some rest and relaxation time. I’m not giving that up just so she can go out drinking the night before.

  “Why don’t you have any friends?” Rogue asks, making me jump and almost drop my new phone. I bring my eyes back to him to see that he’s lighting a cigarette, his crystal blue eyes pinned on my boring brown ones, his lips slightly curved upward in some kind of amusement.

  “I don’t know, I just kind of keep to myself, I guess. Those will kill you,” I decide to add.

  His brow lifts. “More statistics? I’ve only just started, so I think I get a little leeway time before they start to destroy me.”

  “I don’t think it works like that,” I say, wincing and wrinkling my nose. “I don’t like the smell. It gives me migraines.”

  He puts the cigarette out straight away, and moves slightly away from me, blowing smoke in the opposite direction as if saving me from the putrid smell. “Wouldn’t that be my luck?”

  “What?” I ask him, narrowing my gaze.

  “Guess I’m going to have to quit my new habit before I even start it.” He chuckles under his breath, a deep, melodic sound.

  I can’t believe he insinuated that he’s going to quit smoking because I don’t like it. We’ve only just met, so it makes no sense whatsoever, but that doesn’t stop the butterflies in my stomach.

  “Guess I better get going. My cat’s not going to feed himself.”

  He laughs like I’ve made a joke when I’m actually being dead serious.

  “So do you have a man, then?” he replies, studying me with a tilt of his head. “I feel like it’s too fuckin’ good to be true that a woman as beautiful as you would be single.”

  Did my cat comment not give away how very single I am?

  I feel my cheeks start to heat at his compliment. It’s not that I’m not used to hearing them—just that when one is coming from him, I don’t know, it makes me feel a little shy. I collect myself and brush it off. “I’m very single, thank you. What kind of woman like me are you referring to, though? One who is extremely awkward, doesn’t do anything fun other than dance ballet and watch true-crime shows and can’t remember the last time she used her gym membership?”

  He blesses me with a deep chuckle. “Fuck, Zoe. You have no idea, do you?”

  “No idea about what?” I ask him, a little warily.

  “That you don’t do anything fun because you’re too busy taking care of the elderly, and I like the fact that you watch crime shows over mindless reality TV, and looking at you, I can tell you right now that you don’t need to use that fuckin’ gym membership, because you’re perfect. And ballet? That’s hot. You’re full of surprises, and I only hope that you’ll let me watch you dance one day,” he replies, rendering me speechless.

  Me.

  Zoe Kane.

  Speechless.

  This is a first.

  I open my mouth, then close it. I repeat that motion twice more, all while he watches me with a smile playing on those inviting lips, amusement dancing in those crystal blue eyes.

  I feel like I’m in the fucking Maldives every time I look at them.

  I clear my throat, point at him, then lower my finger. “You’re smooth. And good looking. And even though you ride that death trap, and are kind of forward and intriguing, and we only just met, I don’t know what to think. But it’s been interesting; you do amuse. And I’m going to go now. I’m glad you had a good visit.”

  Like the Flash, he moves to open my door.

  “Thank you,” I tell him, wishing I didn’t blurt all of that information out at him. Why do I do that? I get nervous and say whatever I’m thinking instead of what I should be saying.

  Act cool, my sister would say.

  I wouldn’t know how to act cool if it hit me in my face.

  Before I can make my escape, Rogue takes my hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss against my knuckles. “I do want to take you out on a date, though. To chat and get to know you a little, maybe? So how about that coffee, or even dinner?”

  “Uh, I don’t know,” I whisper, swallowing hard.

  His lip twitches. “It was nice meeting you, Zoe. Drive home safely.”

  “That should be my line to you,” I say with a little grin.

  “Going to take a lot more than a motorcycle to get rid of me,” he replies, sounding as if he’s merely stating a fact.

  “Good to know,” I reply, sliding into my car and taking a deep breath.

  It’s not against the law to date a resident’s family member. It can’t be. But does he want to date me? Or does he want to take me on a date? There’s a difference.

  And before I agree to it, I think I need to find out which one it is and exactly what he wants from me.

  I might not be able to play it cool, but I can play it honest.

  That’s more me than anything else.

  3

  “You make the same thing for dinner every time we catch up for sisterly bonding,” I tell Vanessa, my older sister, eyeing the one and only dish she can make, lemongrass and chili chicken with rice. Don’t get me wrong, it’s delicious, but mixing things up every now and again would be nice. “I’m getting you a cookbook for Christmas.”

  “Why fix it if it ain’t broken?” my sister responds, pulling her bowl toward her. “Everyone loves this dish. I don’t know what you’re complaining about. That lack of penis makes you grumpier and grumpier. If you get me a cookbook, I’m going to get you a giant vibrator. Imagine opening that up in front of Grandma come Christmas morning.”

  Cue her evil laugh.

  I roll my eyes. “You wouldn’t. Besides, if you must know, I’ve finally met a guy who piqued my interest.”

  I think.

  Her eyes go wide, and her fork pauses halfway to her lips. “No shit. You met an actual man you might want to date? Or bone? I feel like I need to see this guy with my own eyes. He better not be an actor or something. Keep it realistic, because if you say Jason Momoa, it’s going to be a little harder to hook the two of you up.”

  “No, he’s real, but thank you for making me clarify that. If you come to work, you can see him, but you have to act casual because I literally only just met him,” I reply chirpily.

  She drops her fork into her bowl with distaste. “You have a thing for an old man? Ew, you’re disgusting, Zoe. I don’t know where I went wrong with you. Is
this some grandpa fetish or something? Because that is fucking creepy. You know I’ve always said that I will support you no matter what, but this is pushing boundaries—”

  “Are you done?” I ask her in a dry, unamused tone. “He’s not a resident, you weirdo, oh my God, did you actually think . . .” I trail off, unable to contain my laughter.

  “Well, you said at work! What did you think I’d think? You work with old people!” she says loudly over my high-pitched laughter. “Can you stop? And tell me who it is. Because honestly, I was giving up on the prospect of ever having a niece or nephew.”

  It’s true, I haven’t dated in over a year, so I can see why she was giving up on me.

  “You haven’t even given me a niece or nephew yet,” I remind her, frowning. “When am I going to get one of those? I’m going to be the best auntie ever.”

  “Whenever I decide on which penis I want to ride for the rest of my life,” she replies with a straight face, her brown eyes, exactly like mine, dead serious. “I’ll settle down when I’m ready, but for now I’m going to enjoy the ride, like I keep telling you to do. These are the best years of our lives, Zoe. Our boobs and asses are at their perkiest, and we should enjoy these times before we get old and boring and real life kicks in.”

  “I’m already living real life.”

  “Exactly,” she insists, throwing her hands up, her short blunt bob coming untucked from behind her double-pierced ear. “You’re living the life of an old, settled-down person when you should be living the life of someone your age, being irresponsible and making terrible decisions.”

  “Is having a crush on another biker irresponsible and a terrible decision? Because if it is, I’m all over that already,” I insert quickly, anticipating her reaction with suppressed glee.

  She delivers.

  “A biker? Another one? You wait until now to tell me this bit of information? All the other useless shit you’ve told me since you got here, like the detailed phone call you had with Mom and how you had to clean poo off the wall at work?”

  She stands up dramatically and offers me her hand. “Come with me to my office. This isn’t a conversation to be had at the dinner table. I need to hear every detail about this man.”

  Did I mention that my sister is a drama teacher?

  She’s theatrical as fuck, and she doesn’t even have an office, so I have no idea where she wants to have this conversation, but I’m done eating and eager to tell her all about Rogue. She leads me into her bedroom, where we sit on the thick gray wool knitted blanket I got her for Christmas last year.

  “Spill. No detail is too small,” she says, but then the bitch doesn’t give me the chance to answer. “When you say biker, do you mean he just rides a bike, or is he actually part of a biker gang? Like Fox? Does he have a kickass ride? Is it a Harley?”

  I wince at the mention of Fox, a guy I dated about two years back. He was a biker, and yes, he was part of a motorcycle club. However, it didn’t end well, and he didn’t even take me for a ride on his bike, so I couldn’t have meant much to him. I should have known his name would be brought up when I told her about Rogue, but I was kind of hoping that she had forgotten. I wish I could forget and never hear his name again. What happened with him is a hit to my ego.

  You can also probably see why I grew up being the quiet sibling, the one who was more than happy to step out of the spotlight for Vanessa. She’s quite out there, but no one loves me more than she does. We’re sisters and best friends, and I wouldn’t trade her for the world, even if it’s hard to get a word in edgewise with her.

  “Are you going to let me talk or keep asking more questions before I can answer the previous ones?” I ask her before she can keep talking. “It’s okay to breathe in between sentences, Vanessa.”

  She smirks, but shuts up and nods for me to continue.

  “I don’t know if he’s part of a biker gang or not, I haven’t seen him wearing one of those vest things that Fox used to wear, and I don’t know anything about sweet rides,” I explain, realizing that I really don’t know shit. “But he has a big black motorcycle, and his name is Rogue, and he’s the most handsome man my eyes have ever been blessed to land on.”

  “Rogue?” she asks, perfectly arched brows rising. “What kind of name is that?”

  “What kind of name is Fox?” I shrug. “It’s his nickname, I’m pretty sure, and it suits him. He’s a dashing Rogue if I ever saw one,” I tell her, then give her a quick recap on how we met.

  “So his mom is one of the residents,” she clarifies, moving to sit cross-legged on the bed. “I don’t get why you didn’t grab a coffee with him.”

  “Honestly? I just freaked out a little. Like when I’m sitting here thinking about him, all I want to do is go on a date with him. But when I was in front of him, I think I got a little intimidated. And what if he just wants to sleep with me and that’s it? Don’t forget that I still have to see him at work, and I don’t want things to get messy. Besides, you know my history with bikers. While I don’t know if he’s technically in a club, he fits the type.”

  “Okay, so if he just wanted sex and that’s it, you wouldn’t be okay with that?” she asks, studying me without any judgment. “If you want more than sex, then maybe you’re right, you should walk away, but I think you should at least make sure that he’s not on the same page before you do. But if you just want a little fun, I don’t see what the problem is. You always overthink everything, Zoe. Life doesn’t have to be so serious. It wouldn’t kill you to dust away those cobwebs and get laid. He sounds hot, and I bet he’s good in bed. So as long as you make him wrap his willy, I don’t see why you aren’t bouncing on his penis right now.”

  “My sister, ladies and gentlemen,” I joke, laughing at her. “You make it sound so easy, but it’s not. It’s hard to get back into the whole dating world for me; it’s basically like losing my virginity all over again. And you remember how my last two relationships ended.”

  One ex-boyfriend, Cedric, was a successful businessman and would take me with him to all of his events, parading me around as his arm candy. He made me feel beautiful and coveted, but I soon realized that he saw me as a possession. He never taught me anything. He never bothered to really get to know me. It was all on such a shallow level that I soon disconnected from it. I realized that I deserved more, and I walked away.

  After Cedric was Fox. I met Fox at a bar one night, and it was lust at first sight. In the three months that I spent with him, he never let me meet any of his biker friends, and he never took me to his clubhouse. I was his dirty little secret, which at first was a little exciting. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other. I thought we had something special. Until I found out afterward that he had an old lady, and I was a side piece for him whenever he felt like it.

  He turned out to be just another man who lied through his teeth and made me feel like I’d done something wrong. I’ve wasted my time with so many men just because I thought it was what I was supposed to be doing.

  And if I’m being honest, Fox has a lot to do with why I’m a little unsure about letting Rogue into my life.

  “Except you’re older and wiser this time, and Rogue may not be like Fox, that piece of shit. Rogue may not even be a biker. You can’t hold it against him just because he has a motorcycle. And if he is a biker, then you’ll go into it with open eyes. You can make this work for you however you want it. You’re the most beautiful girl I know, Zoe, and that’s not even me being biased because I’m your big sister. There’s a reason you’ve caught the eye of someone you claim to be so sexy, and it’s because you’re on the same level. I think you should go for it, but it’s up to you. And if you’re too scared to go on a date with him alone, I can sit at another table in my spy gear and make sure you’re okay. We can even hook up a microphone and earphones so I can feed you witty banter ideas.”

  I hold my hand up. “Okay, my game isn’t that bad. Yes, I’m out of practice, but I’m not fifteen.”

  “That’s the
spirit,” she calls out cheerfully, clapping her moonstone-ring-covered hands together. “You’ve got this. Fuck him if you want, or don’t, it’s up to you. You’re the one in control. And if he’s an asshole, I’ll come in and kick his ass. I don’t care how badass he apparently is. You know I like a good challenge.”

  While I stuck to ballet, jazz, and dance hall classes as a child, Vanessa did boxing and jujitsu. Not only is she crazy, but she can back it up. She’s strong, and she likes a good fight. No one can really see that under her boho dresses and the hippie vibe she hides behind is a strong, unapologetic woman.

  “It won’t come to that,” I assure her. “I’ll just wait until I see him again and find out what he says. Maybe he won’t even ask me out again, who knows?”

  “Well, then he’s a fool,” she replies, eyes narrowing. “Want to go get some frozen yogurt to celebrate the fact that your libido didn’t die on you? I feel like this moment calls for celebration. We can come back and finish my chicken masterpiece that I know you won’t criticize again, because it’s your favorite meal of all time.”

  She stands and offers me her hand, and I take it.

  Because although she’s bat-shit crazy, she’s my big sister, and there’s no one I love more.

  And she’s right, I’d eat that chicken every damn day if I had to, just because she made it for me.

  4

  The next morning I find myself sitting in Mrs. K’s room, arguing with her about breakfast. She’s the pickiest eater I’ve ever met.

  “I don’t like those,” she says, huffing, as she points to the tray I’m about to hand her. It seems the woman likes to argue about anything she can, but I push the mushrooms off her tray and into the bin, then hand her the rest. She takes it and picks up the fork, slowly eating a mouthful of the scrambled eggs. It might make me a terrible person, but I decide to casually ask her a few questions about her son.

  “So, I saw your son came to visit you the other day,” I say without looking at her as I look over her chart. “Is he your only child?”