Chapter 6
2057 Words
Summer’s POV
The office was nothing like I expected.
I don’t know what I thought I’d find.
A cramped room with motorcycle parts scattered everywhere?
A dusty desk buried beneath paperwork?
Instead, it was warm.
Quiet.
The heavy wooden door clicked shut behind us, muffling the music until it became nothing more than a distant heartbeat beneath the floor.
The room smelled faintly of cedarwood, leather…and the same clean cologne I’d caught when he’d stood beside me at the bar.
There was a large wooden desk near the windows, bookshelves lining one wall, framed photographs of motorcycles and long winding highways decorating another.
A worn leather couch sat beneath a mounted club emblem.
Everything was organized.
Everything.
Somehow that surprised me.
“I was expecting…”
I stopped myself.
He leaned against the edge of the desk.
“What?”
I smiled sheepishly.
“More chaos.”
One corner of his mouth lifted.
“We save that for downstairs.”
I laughed.
“So this is where you pretend to be responsible?”
“I actually am responsible.”
“I’m not convinced.”
“No?”
“You own a biker clubhouse.”
“I do.”
“You wear a mask.”
“I do.”
“And everyone calls you ‘The Boss.’”
“They do.”
I folded my arms.
“You’ve got to admit…it sounds slightly dramatic.”
His laugh was low.
Quiet.
“I’ve been called worse.”
“I’d love to hear those.”
“I’m trying to make a good first impression.”
“Who’s to say you haven’t already?”
The words escaped before I could stop them.
Heat immediately rushed to my cheeks.
Great.
Now I was flirting.
With a mysterious biker.
After three drinks I didn’t even like.
Fantastic.
His eyes held mine for a second longer.
“I’ll remember you said that.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“I probably will.”
He walked toward a tall cabinet and opened one of the doors.
“I think I still have something that’ll fit.”
He pulled out a neatly folded black T-shirt.
Completely plain.
No logos.
No patches.
He held it out to me.
“You can change in there.”
He nodded toward a door tucked beside the bookshelf.
“The restroom?”
He nodded.
“Take your time.”
I accepted the shirt carefully.
Our fingers brushed.
Barely.
Still…
Something strange fluttered through my chest.
Ridiculous.
It was only a touch.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I disappeared into the restroom before my face could betray me any further.
A few minutes later, I stared at myself in the mirror.
The black shirt was enormous.
The sleeves reached almost to my elbows.
The hem rested halfway down my thighs.
I looked…
Comfortable.
I stepped back into the office.
He looked up from the papers on his desk.
His eyes paused for the briefest second.
Then returned to mine.
“It fits.”
“Barely.”
“You look comfortable.”
“I look like I stole someone’s wardrobe.”
“You did.”
I couldn’t help smiling.
“I’ll wash it and return it.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I definitely do.”
“I have others.”
“So you’re just giving away shirts to strangers now?”
“Only the ones who lose fights with whiskey.”
I groaned.
“Are you ever going to let that go?”
“Probably not.”
“I knew it.”
He smiled again.
It changed his entire face.
Even with half of it hidden behind the mask.
That was unfair.
Someone shouldn’t be allowed to smile with only half a face visible.
There was a knock at the door.
A patched member stepped halfway inside.
“Sorry, President.”
He glanced at me before addressing the masked man.
“They’re ready whenever you are.”
“I’ll be there in five.”
The man nodded once and disappeared.
Silence settled again.
“You have work to do,” I said.
“So do you.”
“I do?”
“You should probably find your friend before she assumes I’ve kidnapped you.”
I laughed.
“Fair point.”
He walked toward the door and opened it for me.
Another gentlemanly surprise.
“After you.”
As I stepped into the hallway, I looked back.
“I still don’t know your name.”
He rested one shoulder against the doorframe.
“You know what everyone else calls me.”
“I meant your real one.”
A thoughtful smile touched his lips.
“Maybe next time.”
Next time.
Such a simple phrase.
Yet somehow it lingered in my chest.
I should have corrected him.
I should have said there wouldn’t be a next time.
Instead…
I smiled.
“I’ll hold you to that.”
His eyes warmed.
“I was hoping you would.”
For reasons I couldn’t explain, my heart skipped a beat as we walked back toward the sound of music waiting beyond the hallway. I had come here hoping to forget one man.
Instead, I’d met another who was becoming harder and harder to stop thinking about.
I should have left.
That was the sensible thing to do.
Find Lena.
Give the shirt back.
Call a cab.
Go home.
Forget Ethan.
Forget the airport.
Forget the mysterious masked biker who somehow kept making my heart do strange little somersaults.
Instead…
I wandered back into the clubhouse beside him.
The music wrapped around us again, classic rock pouring through the speakers as if we’d never left.
Conversations carried on around us.
Someone broke into laughter near the pool tables.
A server balanced plates of burgers and fries through the crowd.
Life continued.
Yet somehow, everything felt…different.
Maybe because I knew he was somewhere nearby.
Maybe because I’d caught myself looking for him before I’d even realized I was doing it.
“You found her!”
Lena hurried toward me, relief written all over her face.
“Oh my God, Summer, I was looking everywhere.”
“I’m okay.”
She looked me up and down.
“My shirt had an unfortunate meeting with whiskey.”
She laughed.
“So that’s why you’re wearing…”
I glanced down at the oversized black T-shirt.
“…Borrowed laundry.”
Lena smiled knowingly.
“I’m guessing the Boss rescued you?”
“He offered me a clean shirt.”
“Sounds like him.”
Before I could ask what that meant, Mason appeared beside Lena.
“They’re starting the meeting.”
She sighed dramatically.
“Five more minutes?”
He kissed her forehead again.
“I’ll save you a seat.”
Once they disappeared into the crowd, I wandered back toward the bar.
Maybe one glass of water.
Definitely water.
The bartender noticed immediately.
“Recovering?”
“I think so.”
She slid a glass of ice water toward me.
“Good choice.”
I took a grateful sip.
My head felt pleasantly light.
Not spinning.
Just…braver than usual.
Dangerously braver.
I was halfway through the water when someone dropped onto the stool beside me.
“You look lonely.”
The voice was slurred.
I turned.
The biker was older than me, his cheeks flushed from alcohol, the smell of whiskey hitting me before his words did.
“I’m actually waiting for my friend.”
He leaned closer anyway.
“Friends can wait.”
I offered a polite smile.
“I’m really not interested.”
“Come on.”
His grin widened.
“One dance.”
“No, thank you.”
“I said no.”
He rested an elbow on the bar, invading my space.
“I promise I’m more fun than whoever you’re waiting for.”
I shifted my stool away.
“I don’t doubt you’re having fun.”
His hand reached toward my arm.
“How about…”
He never finished.
A large hand caught his wrist.
Firm.
Effortless.
The biker looked up.
Every trace of drunken confidence vanished.
The masked man stood beside him.
He hadn’t raised his voice.
He didn’t need to.
“You’ve had enough.”
The drunk laughed nervously.
“Boss, I was just talking.”
“You ignored her answer.”
“I wasn’t…”
“You were.”
The room around us seemed to grow quieter.
Not silent.
Just…watchful.
The masked man released his wrist.
“I heard her say no.”
The biker swallowed.
“I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Intent doesn’t change what you did.”
His voice stayed calm.
Almost frighteningly calm.
“You made one of my guests uncomfortable.”
Nobody moved.
Nobody interrupted.
Even the bartender stopped drying glasses.
The masked man looked toward two patched members nearby.
“Escort him out.”
The two men were beside the drunk before he could protest.
“Boss…”
“You’re done for the night.”
The biker opened his mouth again.
The masked man spoke before he could.
“And until you learn to respect women…”
He paused.
“You’re banned.”
The drunk’s face fell.
“What?”
“Clubhouse.”
He pointed toward the entrance.
“Our rides.”
“Our charity events.”
“Our gatherings.”
“All of it.”
The room remained still.
“If you want back in…”
His gaze never wavered.
“You’ll earn it.”
The two members guided the stunned biker toward the exit.
Nobody argued.
Nobody questioned the decision.
Once the doors shut behind them, conversation slowly resumed.
Like nothing unusual had happened.
I stared.
“…You banned him?”
He looked at me.
“He crossed a line.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“He was one of your members.”
“Not if he forgets what this club stands for.”
There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in his voice.
No performance.
No attempt to impress me.
He genuinely believed every word.
And for reasons I couldn’t explain…
I found it incredibly attractive.
Dangerously attractive.
The alcohol chose that exact moment to whisper terrible ideas into my ear.
My sensible side tried to protest.
The whiskey won.
“So…”
He raised an eyebrow.
“So?”
I folded my arms, trying to look far more confident than I felt.
“I have a question.”
“I’m listening.”
“I know this is going to sound…”
I laughed nervously.
“…probably insane.”
His eyes softened.
“I’ve heard worse.”
I took a deep breath.
“I don’t really want to be out here anymore.”
He waited.
No pressure.
No interruption.
“I…”
My cheeks warmed.
“I was wondering if…”
Good grief.
Was I actually doing this?
I blamed every drop of whiskey I’d consumed.
“…if we could go back to your office.”
His eyebrow lifted ever so slightly.
“Just for a while.”
“I could use somewhere quiet.”
I immediately pointed at my glass of water.
“I’m blaming the alcohol for asking.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“So noted.”
“If you say no, I’ll pretend I never asked.”
“I wasn’t going to say no.”
“You weren’t?”
“No.”
His voice remained gentle.
“You asked for somewhere quiet.”
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
He stepped aside and gestured toward the familiar hallway.
“After you.”
My pulse skipped.
Again.
Several patched members noticed us heading toward the PRIVATE hallway for the second time that evening.
No one questioned it.
One member opened the door as we approached.
“President.”
He nodded in thanks.
The music faded behind us with every step.
The hallway felt cooler.
Quieter.
Safer.
I glanced at him as we walked side by side.
“Can I ask you something?”
“You just did.”
I smiled.
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.”
“And?”
He looked ahead, a smile lingering in his voice.
“Ask.”
I realized then that, somewhere between the airport and this quiet hallway, I’d stopped thinking about Ethan quite so much. And somehow, that felt like the biggest surprise of the night.
- Writer
