“I thought about running a few of my own, once upon a time.”
She seemed interested in that. “But you didn’t?”
I shook my head. “I don’t really have the head for business. Too fucking irresponsible, as my pops would have said.” I blew out a long breath, thinking of how much I’d disappointed the old prick in my thirty years. “I’m more of a partygoer than a host.”
“Do you go to all of Psychos parties then?”
“Most. Axel knew how to put on a good time.”
Her gaze flickered over me. “So you knew my brother well then?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “We weren’t close, like him and Nash. But I knew him, yeah. Saint View ain’t that big. And if someone ain’t trying to kill or steal from you, you probably know them enough to have a beer with.”
“I see. Rebel said she saw him at one of your parties recently.”
I squinted at her. “Rebel’s got a big mouth. What happens in the club ain’t supposed to go a step out of it.”
“Oh my God. Don’t be upset with her. That’s all she told me, I swear.” She nibbled on a nail, her eyes huge and worried.
I sat back, folding my arms across my chest. “Don’t look so worried. Rebel’s a big girl, and she can handle herself.”
“That’s hardly reassuring. You won’t…hurt her, will you?”
I blanched. “What kind of abusive asshole do you think I am?”
“You’re the leader of an outlaw motorcycle gang.”
I stared at her.
Leader.
President.
“Fuck,” I swore under my breath. “Fucking fuck!”
Bliss jumped.
I put a placating hand up in a stop signal. “Shit, sorry. Not you. And not Rebel either. Don’t stress your pretty little ass over it. I’ll tell her to pull her head in, she’ll come back with a smart-ass comment, and that’ll be the end of it.”
Bliss visibly relaxed, but curiosity still played out all over her face.
I just wanted to keep her here and talking. ‘Cause while I didn’t really want the company of any of my brothers and sisters in the club because their tiptoeing around me was too much, I was sick of my own poor company. “You just made me realize that I’m prez. Of the club, I mean. President. My pops is gone, and I was VP.” I scrubbed my hands through my hair and groaned.
“You weren’t expecting it.”
I shrugged. “I mean, I know what this life is. Being prez makes you a target. I’ve known that since I was a boy. But fuck.”
“You never think your parents are actually going to die, do you?”
“Yeah, that.”
She nodded. “I really am sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks.”
She went to stand. “I should leave you two alone. I’ve overstayed my welcome.”
“I liked the distraction.”
She paused, and I let myself drink her in. Though she was dressed more casually today, it was easy to picture her back in that sexy black number she’d been wearing at the club.
“What?” she asked self-consciously.
I was too tired to come up with a lie. “I was thinking about how much I wanted to fuck you on Friday night.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You…you what?”
I chuckled. “Ain’t nobody ever said that to you?”
She laughed uncomfortably. “Ah, no. Definitely not.”
“They think it. Trust me. You still got that fiancé?” I eyed her fingers. They were bare.
“No. I told him this morning that we’re over. Gave back his ring.”
“Good.”
I wasn’t exactly sure why it was good. Because her having a fiancé wouldn’t have stopped me wanting her. But I guess it might have stopped her wanting me.
She looked down at her feet.
Where was the confident woman in deep-red lipstick from Friday night, who’d strutted around the club, not even noticing how many men stopped and stared at her? Me fucking included. “Come over to the clubhouse on Saturday night.”
Her gaze darted to the door, like she was thinking about making a run for it. “Uh…”
“We have a party every Saturday night. You’ll like it. Queenie’s a good cook. We’ll smoke some meat and hang out. Bring Rebel, since I need to spank her ass anyway.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“I can spank yours too, if you like,” I said with a chuckle.
I liked the shade of pink her cheeks took on. And fuck. Flirting with her gave me something to feel other than bleak, cold numbness. By the weekend, Fancy would either be better, or she’d be gone. Either way, I’d be looking to get drunk and laid.