Ride And Obey MC

Eighteen

Knox POV

She serves a couple near the window and grabs coffee for a man sitting near the front, all while moving with that quiet determination that says she’s trying to keep it together.

Eventually, I polish off the last few fries and lean back in my chair. My stomach’s full, and I should probably get moving, but I don’t want to leave just yet.

Danielle makes her way back over, her steps slower than before. Her expression is careful as she stops beside the table, pen and pad in hand like she needs the extra layer of professionalism between us.

“You ready to pay and head out?” she asks, her tone polite, but her eyes tell me she already knows I’m not in a rush.

I sigh and glance around the restaurant before settling my gaze back on her. “I don’t know,” I say casually, letting the words hang for a beat. “I kinda like the view.”

She opens her mouth, maybe about to roll her eyes or say something sarcastic, but before a single word can leave her lips, a pair of arms slide around her waist from behind.

She jumps, her whole body going stiff as she spins around, her voice barely above a whisper. “Sam.”

That name hits me like a sucker punch I saw coming.

So this is the guy.

I lean forward slightly in my chair, resting my elbows on the table, and let my eyes drag over him. He’s clean-cut, well-groomed, probably works some stiff desk job in finance or real estate. His jeans are crisp, like they’ve never seen a single oil stain. His boots are for style, not function.

He sizes me up like he’s not sure if I’m a threat or a mistake.

I bite back the grin that’s tugging at the corners of my mouth. So this is the boyfriend. This is the guy who left her feeling so unseen that she came storming into a biker bar in a dress made of red fire and defiance. The same guy who doesn’t even realize his girl spent the night calling out my name.

Sam leans down and kisses her cheek. “Your break’s in five. So I'm here to sit with you for lunch.”

Danielle doesn’t look at him right away. Her shoulders are tense, and her voice is a whisper again when she replies, “I already took it. Earlier.”

“I told you I was calling in today,” Sam says, his voice low but biting. “I said I’d come have lunch with you.”

Danielle shifts, trying to keep her voice even, but there’s tension tightening in her shoulders. “You didn’t come home until after six. I assumed you changed your mind.”

Sam lets out a short, humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, maybe I should’ve expected you’d use that as an excuse.”

She stiffens more and looks over her shoulder, probably to make sure Greg or the other staff aren’t watching too closely. “Can we not do this while I’m working?” she mutters, clearly trying to keep the peace.

But he doesn’t stop. “We barely do anything together lately outside the house. The one day I make a plan to come here and spend time outside the house with you, you decide to take your break early. What’s that about, Danielle?”

“Can we please not do this in front of customers?” she whispers, her voice shaking just slightly now.

She places a hand on his arm and gently guides him away from the dining area. I stay seated, letting her handle it, but I don’t take my eyes off them. Her posture tells me everything I need to know, this isn’t a conversation she wants to be having, especially not here. She keeps looking toward the back, as if hoping no one hears what’s being said.

I lean back and stretch slightly, my gaze steady, my face unreadable. That little display might’ve looked casual to someone else, but I know tension when I see it. I live in tension. I know what it looks like when someone’s just trying to keep things from boiling over.

A moment later, Greg strides across the floor and stops in front of my table. His face is tight, jaw locked, eyes sharp with warning.

“You’ve had your fun,” he says. “Now it’s time to leave.”

I raise an eyebrow, not moving. “Didn’t know there was a time limit for finishing a meal.”

“You’ve been sitting here long after you were done eating,” Greg snaps. “I don’t want this turning into something. Not today.”

I take a long breath and let it out slowly. “I was thinking about staying for coffee.”

He steps closer, lowering his voice but keeping the weight behind his words. “Danielle doesn’t need someone like you hanging around. She’s been through enough. You and your kind—you don’t stick around. You don’t care what damage you leave behind. So do her a favor and walk out before you make things worse.”

I hold his stare, feeling my jaw tighten, but I don’t rise. Not yet.

Because it’s not just about Danielle walking away from me this morning. It’s about the way she looked when that guy touched her. The way she tensed like she wasn’t sure if she could breathe.

I don’t care what Greg thinks I am.

I know what I saw, and I’m not going anywhere.