The girl he’d been talking to was watching us through the glass door, waiting for him to go back inside. I hated this feeling of jealousy building inside me. I hugged myself tighter. “I mean, if you wanted to. And she’s your type, right? You’re not exactly known for your dry spells. And it’s not like you’re in it for the riveting conversation—”
“What?” His gaze darkened.
My face heated. What the fuck was I even saying right now? But the words kept on falling out of my fool mouth. “Well, you have Mercedes and the other club girls ready and waiting whenever you want to get laid.” That came out way more bitter than I’d intended.
He stared at me for several long seconds, his gaze hard. “You really said that shit, huh? That’s some opinion you have of me, cupcake.”
I swallowed, mouth dry. “Your reputation isn’t exactly a secret. It doesn’t matter to me. I know you’re a good guy. A good—”
“Friend,” he finished, a look on his face I couldn’t read.
“Ah, yeah. I’m sure if I walked in there and picked someone up, you wouldn’t care. Friends want what’s best for each other, right, Manic? And that includes getting off regularly, I assume.” I tilted my head to the door. “Your new friend’s waiting, don’t let me stop you.” Now I sounded out and out pissed. What the hell was wrong with me? Why was I pushing him to leave with that girl?
One minute Manic was several feet away, the next, he was right in front of me. “Why’re you so pissed, Addie? You sound jealous.”
I swallowed and it was way too loud. “I assure you, I’m fucking not.” Iwasjealous, so much so that I was surprised I wasn’t glowing bright green.
Easygoing, affable Manic vanished from his face, and the hard, take-no-shit biker was looking at me. “First, if you think I’m agood guy, you don’t know me as well as you think you do. Second, you got something to say, Addison, then say it.”
I stared up at him, my heart racing. “What could I possibly have to say?”
He took my chin in his long, thick fingers, his skin rough against mine. “How about you’re so fucking scared to tell me you want me that you’d rather push me at another woman.”
My heart felt like it was bouncing around in my chest. “You’re wrong.” He was so goddamn right, it was like he was inside my head.
“You’d rather hurt yourself than risk someone else hurting you, do I have that right?”
“No,” I whispered unconvincingly, feeling like he’d sliced me open and spilled all my secrets on the ground at my feet. I didn’t want him to know the truth, that it would expose all the ugly from my past. He saw me as wild, fun, free, or at least he had. If I told him the real reason I’d avoided him, he’d see something else. He’d see the truth, the real Addison. And the last thing I wanted was for Manic to pity me. I’d do anything to avoid that.
But even if I wanted to share, I couldn’t. I didn’t talk about my past and not only because it was a trigger but also because talking about it and sharing tended to bring people closer, exactly what I wanted to avoid. It was this whole twisted cycle, one thing feeding into the other.
“No?”
I shook my head and bit my lip to stop it quivering.
He leaned in closer. “Well, I’m not quite as together as you, cupcake,” he said, quiet, rough. “’Cause if another guy even thought about putting his hands on you in front of me, I’d tear them off and beat the fucker with his own severed limbs.”
My belly trembled. “You, ah, paint a vivid picture.”
His nostrils flared, his gaze wild, hungry.
He still wanted me. Maybe for a night, maybe two, but nothing permanent. He was territorial, but that didn’t mean he wanted more than sex. And yes, I was too broken for more, but that didn’t mean I didn’t wish otherwise.
No. I couldn’t do this to myself. I’d just had a freaking panic attack in the bathroom, I couldn’t do this. “I don’t think I should come on this trip. I’ll take a bus home.”
His head jerked back. “You’re gonna bail on me?”
His phone rang, and we stared at each other for several painstaking seconds before he finally grabbed it.
“Yo!” a voice called before Manic could speak.
Manic often put his phone on speaker. It always made me feel awkward, but he didn’t seem to care. “Beau, brother, how’s it?”
“Good, as long as you tell me you’re on your way home?”
“I’m in Ridgeford. Staying here tonight. Should be there before lunch tomorrow. So have the grill ready.”
“You know it,” Beau said. “Freya and the girls have been working overtime.”