A big body dropped into Bliss’s empty seat and draped and arm over the back of the couch.
I glanced over at him. “War.”
“Nash.”
His jean-clad leg skimmed mine. There was plenty of couch on the other side of him, but he made no move to shuffle over.
I didn’t comment on it. “How’s the MC? Your dad talked you into running the place yet?”
He grinned. “Nope. And he won’t. Being VP is a lot more fun than being pres. All the power, none of the responsibility, you know?”
I didn’t really, because despite knowing War for several years, I’d never had any interest in joining his motorcycle club. I only had a vague idea how the hierarchy worked, but enough to know that with his old man as president, War was next in line for the Saint View Slayers’ throne.
Except he’d never wanted it, much to his old man’s dismay. They’d all been coming to Psychos for as long as I could remember, and you picked up snippets of conversation here and there. You could learn a lot about people by listening to what they said in front of bartenders.
“How’s business? I heard about Axel. That’s a tough blow, man. I’d like to come to his funeral.”
I nodded. “He would have appreciated that. Can’t do much on that front ’til the cops release his body though.”
War nodded solemnly, but then a wide grin spread across his face. “So, who’s the hottie you’ve been following all around the club like you’re as attached as her shadow?”
“She’s Axel’s sister. She owns the place now. Giving her the grand tour.”
He raised an eyebrow. “No fucking shit?”
“No fucking shit.”
“So…you can’t go there. Bro code and all that. But there’s nothing stopping me, right?”
I ground my molars. I liked War. I liked everyone really, and people liked me. It paid to be easygoing sometimes. But I wasn’t sure I wanted him anywhere near Bliss.
I didn’t feel very easygoing when I thought about her with another man. Even though I knew she had a fiancé, he was just some nameless, faceless idea that could easily be ignored. War was right there in front of me, with his shit-eating grin that ladies loved and biceps that could crack walnuts.
I was also well aware it wasn’t my place to make decisions for her. And that while I was fifteen years older, I wasn’t her father.
So when she came back from the bathroom, even though I didn’t like it, I introduced her to the man who’d stolen her seat.
“War, this is Bliss. Bliss, War. War is VP of the local motorcycle club.”
War slid over, giving Bliss back her seat.
Recognition dawned in her expression.
He winked at her. “Hey again, cutie.”
She perched on the edge of the couch. “The Slayers MC?”
“That’s the one.” War’s grin was so lazily charming I had a sudden urge to punch him in the face.
He ran his tongue across his bottom lip. “Cute name, by the way. That short for something?”
“Bethany-Melissa. Bliss is a family nickname.”
I probably should have been happy she included me in her family, but I wasn’t.
“So what should I call you?” War asked.
“You could just call me Bethany-Melissa.”
“That’s a mouthful.”
“Rebel’s been calling me Disney.”
He screwed up his face. “What the fuck for?”
She laughed. “Long story. It involves a ball gown.”
“I’m listening.”
She gave him a warm smile and filled him in, and I was sure I saw War fall in love with her. If that were even possible for a man like him. Fall in lust, at the very least.
He was into her. There was no doubt about that.
“Bliss is engaged,” I blurted out.
The woman was right in the middle of a story that had absolutely nothing to do with her fiancé. Fuck me. I might as well have stuck a tag on my chest that read, “Hi, my name is Cockblock.”
War and Bliss both looked over at me.
“That true, pretty girl?”
Bliss practically preened under his compliments, and I stared at her. What the hell was she doing? Surely his flattery wasn’t doing things for her?
“True. But I did walk in on him trying to find his tiny dick in another woman’s vagina earlier tonight, so…there’s that.”
“You what?” I choked. A red-hot rage washed over me out of nowhere. “You didn’t tell me that.”