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  “I needed a change,” she says, touching her locks.

  Closing the door, I take a wild guess. “New hair means you’re single, doesn’t it? What happened to Troy?”

  “Troy who?” she asks, dismissing her boyfriend of three years. “He’s old news. How have you been? How’s the new job going? You need to fill me in on all that, because a simple ‘I have a new job’ text message isn’t going to cut it.” She lifts up the champagne bottle she brought with her. “Let me pour us a glass, and then you can update me on your life.”

  I get comfy on the couch as she brings two glasses with her and fills them to the brim. After catching her up on me losing my job, finding a new one, finding out about Abbie, and all things Crow, she sits there with her mouth open.

  “Your life is way more interesting than mine,” she finally says, after a big swallow. “I’m glad your work situation sorted itself out. I know how stressful that must have been for a control freak like you.”

  “Not going to lie, it was definitely stressful. Now what happened with Troy? Last I heard the two of you were planning to get engaged soon.”

  She swirls the liquid in her glass, eyes hypnotized. “I had a bad feeling, so I checked his phone. I know, I know,” she murmurs, looking up at me. “I know I shouldn’t have, but I needed to know. And I was right; he’d been cheating on me. You should always trust your gut.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, fingers tightening around my glass. “What an asshole! He was punching way above his weight with you, and then he has the nerve to cheat on you?”

  “That’s exactly what I said to him,” she grits out, teeth clenched. She waves her hand. “Anyway, it’s done now. I kicked him out, he’s Veronica’s problem now. I’m glad I found out the truth. Imagine if I’d married the scumbag?”

  “So true,” I agree, then mutter under my breath, “He better hope I don’t catch him down an alleyway or something.”

  Billie laughs and finishes the rest of her drink. “You know me, I’ll be fine. I mean, it hurts, but he obviously wasn’t for me, so. There’s no point crying over dick that wasn’t that great anyway.”

  I pour us more champagne, and we toast to that. “So what do you want to do tonight? Dinner?”

  “Dinner sounds perfect.”

  Although I’ve known Billie for a long time, and I know that her “dinner” always ends up being café Patrón shots, dancing on stage, and potentially throwing up on the cab ride home.

  I wish I were joking.

  She can be a mess, but she’s my mess, especially now that Troy is toast.

  “I’ll call a cab,” I state, grabbing my handbag and making sure it has all the essentials to survive a night out with single Billie.

  “And I’ll finish this champagne.” She smiles, doing a little dance, shaking her hips.

  Shit.

  Here’s to me surviving tonight.

  Chapter Five

  “Dude, you have to taste this, it’s amazing,” Billie says, bringing the chopsticks to my lips.

  I take a bite and have to agree. “Okay, we need to order more of that. Plus, filling your stomach is a good idea.”

  “Filling our stomachs,” she replies, and eats another dumpling. “When’s the last time you got drunk with me?”

  I rack my brain. “Your last birthday?”

  “You had two drinks,” she reminds me, lifting her brows and chewing slowly. “And then you left early to finish some work. I think you were investigating some guy that was cheating on his wife. Oh my God, why didn’t I just ask you to look into Troy? We could have found out about him much earlier.”

  “Because you trusted him and thought he was someone that he wasn’t?”

  “Yeah, what a rookie mistake that was,” she grumbles, pursing her red lips. “I swear, I’m going to stay single for the rest of my life. I’m destined to be a spinster. I don’t need kids. I’ll just be a cool auntie to all yours when you have them.”

  Her comment hurts me more than she will ever know, but then again, it’s my fault for not telling her there’s a chance that I might never have kids.

  “What about sex?” I ask, changing the subject. “And don’t you even try to tell me you don’t need that.”

  “Sex isn’t a problem for me. Sex is easy. I’ll find a fuck buddy or two, or a friend with benefits, that’s easily solved,” she replies, shrugging. “Worse comes to worst, all my friends keep talking about some sex toy that’s supposed to even be better than the real thing.”

  I laugh at her problem-solving skills. “Not all men are like Troy. I’m sure one day you’ll meet someone worthy of you, and then I’ll get to be the cool auntie.”

  “Maybe you and Crow will have a nest of little baby Crows.”

  I roll my eyes at her. “This little intervention tonight isn’t about me, it’s about you.”

  “Yeah, but you have a love interest. All I have right now is bitterness,” she says, and eats the last of the food from her plate. “And perhaps tomorrow, alcohol poisoning.”

  “It’s been a while since I’ve danced,” I admit. We decided to sit outside of the restaurant, and I find myself enjoying the hustle and bustle, the music, the lights, and the people. “It’s a beautiful night. Thanks for dragging me out. I would have been on the couch in my pajamas with a tub of ice cream otherwise.”

  “Thanks for coming out with me,” she says, lifting her glass. “You are the one person who knows me in all of my stages: the old me, the present me, and the new me. You know I love you, right?”

  “I love you too. To the present versions of us.”

  We clink our glasses together, finish up, and then head to our next spot for the night.

  A bar.

  Stepping inside, I kind of wish I’d dressed up a little more. I barely put on any makeup other than some mascara and highlighter, my hair wild down my back. Billie’s obviously a little more prepared, fitting in perfectly in her dress and heels.

  “Have you been here before?” I ask, leaning on the glass bar and waiting to be served.

  “Nope,” she replies, looking at the dance floor. “I think it’s new, that’s why it’s so busy. Pretty cool, though, huh?”

  “Yeah,” I have to admit. It’s playing the type of music I love, R&B and reggae, and my hips move to the beat of their own accord. “What’s it called again?”

  “Kamikaze,” a familiar voice answers from behind me. My head snaps back so fast I’m surprised it doesn’t break.

  What are the chances I’d run into his ass tonight?

  “Crow,” I say, ducking my head.

  Billie looks over my shoulder, eying him. “Hello.”

  Sighing, I say, “This is Billie. Billie, this is Crow.”

  I hate when people don’t introduce other people. I find it extremely rude, so I make sure I get that out of the way immediately.

  “Nice to meet you,” Crow says to her politely, then brings those ocean-blue eyes back to me. “I thought you weren’t much of a drinker.”

  “I’m not,” I reply, lifting my chin and narrowing my eyes. “That doesn’t mean that I never have a drink. This your new hunting ground?”

  His lip twitches. “Something like that. We actually just opened this place.”

  “What don’t you own?” I grumble, scanning the place in a new light. The Knights must make a shit-load of money, because it seems like they have their fingers in all kinds of pies.

  “She doesn’t drink,” Billie pipes in, smirking. “Or leave the house. I had to drag her ass out tonight.”

  Crow grins and signals the bartender. “Tough week at work, Bronte?”

  “Something like that,” I mutter, checking him out in his black shirt and jeans. “Run out of hideously printed shirts?”

  He orders two margaritas and a whiskey, then turns his attention back to me. “That’s more my
day attire.”

  “Good to know.”

  “He’s really fucking cute,” Billie whispers so only I can hear. “And the way he’s looking at you...”

  I nudge her, needing her to be quiet because that’s the last thing I need him to hear.

  He slides us each a margarita. “We have the best cocktails in the city, and these are supposed to be the highlight.”

  “A little biased,” I reply, arching my brow. “But thank you.”

  Taking a sip, the salt hitting my tongue, I have to agree that it’s a pretty great drink. “It’s good.”

  “Good? These are amazing.” Billie beams, stepping out from the side of me to see Crow better. “This is going to be my new place.”

  “Bronte!” Cam calls out, running up to me from the dance floor and giving me a big hug. “I didn’t know you were coming out tonight. Do you know I haven’t stopped raving about the cake you made me? I think it’s the best chocolate cake I’ve ever eaten. I was pissed when Crow ate the hugest chunk out of it.”

  “I’m glad you liked it.” I smile, then introduce Cam to Billie.

  “Is everyone who works at Fast & Fury good looking or is it just me?” she asks Cam, after downing her margarita and placing it down on the bar. “Next round is on me. What do you all want?”

  “I think I’m good for now, Billie.” I still haven’t even finished my cocktail. Cam, on the other hand, decides to be her drinking buddy, saving me from a hangover tomorrow.

  Crow leans down to speak into my ear, sending shivers up my spine. “Want to dance?”

  “Ummm.” I don’t know if this is a good idea, for many reasons. In fact, there’s a whole list.

  He’s my boss.

  I have to see him every day.

  He’s in a biker club. Let’s not forget that little tidbit, shall we?

  He takes my hand. “Come on, show me your moves.”

  “Okay, one dance.”

  The words somehow leave my lips. Maybe because it’s what I really want. Maybe it’s the seductive music.

  Maybe because I need something for me.

  Once dance won’t hurt, right? There’s nothing wrong with a little friendly dancing.

  Crow leads me to the dance floor, smack bang in the middle, and pulls me toward his chest. Not too close, but just close enough that it feels intimate. That damn cologne of his teases me, all of my senses clouding my judgment. Losing myself in the beat, I gently move my hips, a slow tease, while he moves with me. He’s a good dancer, surprisingly. I like it when a man lets you guide the pace and doesn’t try to overdo it. Less is more, and he seems to know that, but he still moves in rhythm, sensually so.

  “You look surprised,” he says, eyes filled with amusement...and a dash of heat.

  “I am,” I confess, boldly wrapping my arms around his neck. “Not only at the fact that you asked me to dance, but the fact that you actually can dance.”

  “I shouldn’t have asked you,” he admits, hands finding their way to my hips and squeezing gently. “At work I’ve put you in a ‘do not touch’ box, but now you’ve stepped into my other world.”

  I’m unsure what to say to that, but I see what he means. At work we know what we’re supposed to be doing, we know what the boundaries are, but now we’ve left the safety of those boundaries. I recognize there’s a heat between us, one that seemed to be an annoyance to him and one I tried to avoid, not that I lasted very long. There’s some chemistry there, but that doesn’t mean we need to act on it.

  “You don’t have to say anything, it’s just a dance,” he whispers, as if reading my mind, spinning me around and pulling me back against his chest, this time my back pressed against him.

  And he’s right; it could be just a dance.

  A dance that made time stand still.

  I could walk away from here, from him, and pretend this never happened, and we could go back to work on Monday and act like we have been.

  The song comes to an end, his fingers leaving my body, my arms lowering, but our gazes remain locked. I don’t know what it is about him. It’s much more than his looks—I know because I feel our connection in my chest, not just farther south.

  I mean, I feel it there, too, but that’s not all there is.

  Flashing him a small smile, I take his hand and lead him back to the bar, where Cam and Billie are doing Patrón shots.

  “I left you alone for five minutes,” I say to them both, Billie sliding me a shot in response.

  “We were feeling a little parched after watching that grinding on the dance floor,” she says, wiggling her brows at me. “My, my, Bronte, I don’t think I’ve seen those moves in a long time. Not since high school.”

  My best friend has no filter, and it’s a fucking problem.

  I turn to Crow. “Another dance?”

  Apparently I don’t even need to be drunk to make bad decisions.

  Chapter Six

  “I can’t remember where I live,” Billie murmurs, sticking her head out the window like a dog.

  “Lucky for you, I know where you live,” I assure her, glancing to the back seat at her and Cam, who is fast asleep. I turn back to Crow. “I’m assuming you know where Cam lives?”

  He nods and rolls down his window, letting some fresh air in. “Yeah, we’re almost there.”

  “Bet you didn’t expect to turn into designated driver tonight,” I say in a dry tone, closing my eyes as the breeze hits my face.

  “Well, when I saw where the two of them were headed, I knew it was probably a good idea to stop after my one whiskey. We told Cam to come out tonight and check out the opening so we could buy her birthday drinks, so I was always going to make sure her ass got home safely,” he explains as I study his profile. “At least she had a good night.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know who was the bad influence out of the two of them.”

  “Definitely not me,” Billie pipes up from behind, sitting back in her seat. “I had such a good night tonight. I love all of you guys. Bronte, you getting fired was the best thing that ever happened to both of us.”

  Crow’s lips kick up at the corners. “Never a dull moment.”

  “You have no idea.” I laugh, looking out the window. “So now do you have to share your time between the garage and the bar?”

  “Yeah, most probably,” he replies, glancing over at me. “I’ll go wherever Temper needs me. But the garage is my baby, always has been. Renny is the mastermind behind Kamikaze, so he’s the one that’s going to be in charge of it. They were all here tonight, but they were up in the VIP room.”

  “Watching everything?” I ask, eyes going wide. Great, I haven’t even met his friends, besides Temper, and now they’ve seen me dirty dancing with Crow.

  Crow chuckles, apparently not ashamed at all. “Yep.”

  “I guess they’ve probably seen much worse,” I mutter under my breath.

  Much, much worse.

  “You’re cute” is all he replies with, shaking his head, tone amused. He must think I’m so innocent, and I guess to their standards maybe I am. Still, the women I’ve so far met who are connected to the MC—Cam, Skylar and Abbie—are awesome chicks and I don’t feel out of place.

  That reminds me. “I’m seeing Abbie and the girls for lunch tomorrow.”

  “You coming to the clubhouse?” he asks, pulling into the driveway of a modern-looking block of units.

  “No, we’re meeting at a café. Why?”

  “Just asking. Cam’s is the one on the right,” he says, parking the car and getting out to help her. He opens her door and lifts her in his arms like she weighs nothing, and closes the door behind him.

  “I like him,” Billie says as we watch him put Cam down in front of her door. She wakes up and starts digging in her bag for her keys.

  “Do you now,” I reply, turning back. “Is sober y
ou going to share the same opinion?”

  She nods. “I wasn’t drunk when I first met him. Just tipsy. Anyway, I’m pretty sure drunk me makes better decisions than sober me.”

  “That’s saying something,” I laugh, reaching out and pushing her hair off her face. “You’re going to have a hell of a hangover tomorrow.”

  “Worth it,” she says, closing her eyes, lips tipping up at the corners. “It’s been a long time since I had such a good night out. You know, I always have a good time with you, even though you never get smashed like the rest of us.”

  Crow gets back in the car. “One down.”

  “Is she going to be all right?” I ask him, staring at the front of her unit.

  “Yeah, she just needs to sleep it off. I gave her some Tylenol and water,” he explains as he gets back on the road. “Now where is Billie’s place?”

  “I might just take her back with me to mine,” I say, and give him the directions to my apartment. There’s a tension between us, and I know it’s because the lines are getting blurred, and we have no idea what we’re doing or where we stand. “Thank you for getting us all home, Crow.”

  “You’re welcome,” he replies, gaze caressing me.

  “Why did you ask if I’m coming to the clubhouse? Are people who aren’t members allowed in there?” I ask.

  “If we trust you, you’re allowed in there, yes,” he says softly. “And I was just curious if I was going to be seeing you there tomorrow.”

  “Do you want to?” I ask boldly.

  The car smells like him, and it must be addling my brain. Would I really walk into a biker clubhouse? I mean, I trust Abbie, at least my gut tells me I can trust her. I still don’t know her very well, though, and neither do I know the man sitting next to me. I work for him and his club, and that relationship should be kept very professional.

  Says me as I sit in his car after a night out.

  It’s clearly easier said than done, especially when they are all one big family and hang out all the time. Do I even want to keep myself separate from that?