Obsessed With A Biker, What A Mess!

Chapter 6

Aria

My head felt like a war zone. Heavy. Foggy. Like someone had stuffed cotton in my skull and cranked up the world's worst bass line.

I stretched slowly, trying to figure out where the hell I was. Soft sheets. Dim light. A room that smelled faintly like leather and soap. I sat up too fast and winced. That's when I noticed the towel wrapped around me.

"What the—" I muttered, confused, looking down at myself.

Pieces of last night trickled in slowly. . The club. The drink. Feeling dizzy. Getting sick. The men outside the bathroom and then passing out beside Ethan.

Slowly my eyes roamed around the room and it landed on Ethan. He was sitting on a low couch near the wall, watching me.

"What did you do to me?" I asked scanning my body again.

"If I really did something, you wouldn't be able to sit up like that, would you?" he said calmly. Dry humor in his voice.

He seemed so damn sure of himself, sitting there all calm and smug, like the idea of me waking up half-naked in his bed was no big deal. I didn't like how confident he looked.

I wanted to strike down that arrogance—wipe that look off his face. "Really?" I said, lifting an eyebrow. My tone was deliberately pushing.

His lips curved slightly. "You can try."

The heat that rolled through me after that was instant—and infuriating. I hated that his voice could do that to me. To mask it up, I cleared my throat and pulled the towel tighter. I forced myself to shift the subject. "What the hell happened last night?"

Ethan leaned back a little, rubbing his jaw. "You were drugged," he said simply. "Someone slipped something into your drink. You nearly passed out. I got you out before it got worse."

I clenched the sheets. "You didn't...?" I asked, more softly.

"I carried you out. You were burning up, so I put you in the tub with ice. You passed out again. I cleaned you up. That was it."

And then it hit me—my hair was damp. Washed. My skin was clean. My body sore in places I couldn't explain. An odd, indescribable feeling spread across my scalp, making it tingle.

"And you didn't touch me?" I asked again, needing to hear it once more.

His eyes met mine. Something unreadable flashed in them. "No."

A breath I didn't realize I was holding slipped out. I looked away. Embarrassed. A little exposed.

"Thanks," I said quietly.

He stood and walked toward the door. "Get some rest. We'll talk more when you're ready."

I lingered seated for some moment before dragging my body off the bed and slipped into my clothes—thankfully, they were neatly folded on the nightstand. The room was quiet. Too quiet. I looked around, trying to make sense of where I was. The place wasn't fancy, but it was clean. Masculine. Leather couch. Dark curtains. No art on the walls. Everything in black, grey, and wood. Too lived-in to be a hotel. Too nice to be a random safehouse.

"Is this his house?" I murmured.

I walked toward the door, fingers wrapping around the handle. Just as I twisted it open the door yanked back. I jumped.

"You..."

It came out before I could stop myself. The guy in front of me had the same face I remembered from last night. One of the men who'd taken me. Tall. Built. Scar on his neck. Stone expression.

"Boss is waiting for you in the living room," he said flatly, then turned and walked away.

For a moment I stared at his disappearing figure. What was that? I scoffed. "Boss, my foot."

I came down the stairs slowly, gripping the railing, trying not to trip. My legs still felt weak.

Ethan was sitting on the couch, head tilted back slightly as he took a sip from a glass. I couldn't tell if it was coffee or whiskey, but either way, it was too damn early for the second.

I stepped forward, arms crossed. "This man...." I pointed at the stone faced man. ".....was one of the guys who took me yesterday."

"I do think you have a problem with saying thank you to your helper," he said, calm and cocky.

"Helper, my foot." I muttered rolling my eyes.

Sure, I thanked him earlier... back when I thought he saved me from something he didn't cause.

Now I knew better. Ethan leaned forward slightly. "Have a seat. Let's talk."

"I don't have anything to talk about," I shot back. "I'm leaving."

"Have a seat, Aria."

The way he said my name made me pause. It wasn't loud, but it landed sharp like a command disguised in silk.

I looked at him, then let out a sigh and sat on the couch across from him.

ETHAN

She didn't remember the bathroom. That much was obvious by the way she looked at me.

I let out a quiet breath of relief. Good. Let her forget that part.

I forced myself to keep my eyes on her face, not her body. Not the smooth line of her collarbone. Not the way the light hit the hollow of her throat. f**k.

"Look," I said, dragging a hand through my hair after taking a sip of my drink, "Don’t take this s**t lightly. Last night could've ended differently. Just accept my help Aria,”

She was quiet, biting her lip like she wanted to say something but wasn't sure if she should.

"Whatever it is, just say it."

"I don't want to be involved in anything gang-related." Her eyes met mine.

"And let's be honest, you look like someone deep in it."

So that's what she thought. Not just that I was dangerous—but that I was one of them.

A bad guy.

I leaned back slightly and let the silence stretch. I should've been angry, but I wasn't. Not really. I was used to being looked at like that. Still, hearing it from her, it hit different.

"You think I'm a f*****g gangster?” The words left my lips before I could tame it.

Her eyes darted left to right in pure doubt. “I don't know really. I just want peace in my life. And what….” she trailed off avoiding my eyes, swinging her hands up. “….What could I possibly do?”

My lips curved into something dry. “I'm not trying to drag you into anything shady, Aria. I just want to protect the neighborhood. That's all I've ever wanted."

Her brows drew together slightly, like she didn't quite believe me but didn't want to say it out loud either.

"I was thinking," I went on, softer now, "You could work at the clinic. A proper one. For the people in this community who can't afford real care. They need someone like you."

Her brows creased. "You could be a nurse there or even learn to be a doctor if you want. It's not dangerous like working late nights at that bar. "

I meant every damn word. "You'd be helping people, Aria. Actually making a difference. That's all this is. A real chance to do what you're meant to."

I saw the flicker in her eyes then—something between curiosity and hesitation.

"Why do you think I'm suitable to work in a clinic?"

I gave a half-shrug, trying not to look too damn obvious about the memory of her hands patching me up. "Because you bandaged me up pretty well,"

Her lips pressed together but I didn't let her question it further.

"Look," leaning forward and intertwining my hands together, "I'm not trying to force you into anything. But you've been in danger—twice now. And I can't just ignore that, Aria. I won't."

Her expression softened a little.

“I’m asking you again,” I said quietly. “Let me help. Come work under my jurisdiction. It’s safer there. You won’t have to deal with the kind of bullshit you’ve had to deal with. There, no one will dare to mess with you under my watch.”

I saw a flicker in her eyes—meaning I was getting there.

“You know I’m right. You’re in trouble, Aria. Whether you want to admit it or not, you need to be somewhere protected.”

I held her gaze, hoping she heard the urgency in mine. Her eyes wavered. She was trying to hold her ground, but I caught it—that flash of uncertainty. That quiet shift that said maybe she knew I was right. Maybe the trouble was already at her door.

I exhaled and added, “And just so you know, I also have a formal job. I run a logistics company. This isn’t some shady setup.”

We handled deliveries, storage, and moving goods from one place to another. Everything was legal, with papers and taxes and all that. It helped me stay under the radar a clean front when I needed one.

"And how do I trust you?" She said surprising me with her question.

"You don't have to trust me. You just need to know danger is knocking, and you need to protect yourself."

Or someone to protect you. For a moment, she just stared at me and said nothing until her stomach decided to grumbled. Her eyes briefly widened before she let over me and Jax. “That wasn't me,”

Well I wasn't expecting her to deny that. I shook my head with a smile dangling at the corner of my lips. “Jax check on the cook. See if breakfast is ready,”

Jax bowed slightly before walking away. I gulped down the remaining drink before dropping the glass down on the table and standing up. I could see her grinding her teeth. Maybe in embarrassment. I couldn't help but chuckle. “Let’s go have breakfast and you have a long day to think about it. I’ll pick you up tomorrow,”