Not that Zak and I are a couple or anything. Nor will we ever be more than rescuer and rescuee.
So stupid.
I clear my throat. “How did you hook up with them?”
Zak finishes his second plate and slumps back in the chair with a satisfied pat to his many abs. “That was amazing, Theo, thank you.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “I met Jackal at a body shop his Gramps ran. Club business. His dad and uncle were founders, and their grandpa was on the Executive Committee. I took my bike in for repairs and started hanging around. Gramps eventually hired me as an apprentice then made me lead mechanic. Jackal sponsored me for the club a few months later and the rest is history.”
A history I’m dying to dive into.
But Zak seems very guarded, so I won’t push.
Instead, I grin and pick at my now cold breakfast. “Does everyone have club names?”
He gives me another lopsided grin and pushes his hair back out his face. “Yep. Jackal is actually Elliot but he’s clever and cunning, a little bit of a predator with a squeaky howl when he laughs.”
I giggle. “Pork Chop?”
“That’s all he fucking eats.”
“Brick?”
“You saw him, honey. He’s built like a brick shithouse.”
I nod and take a bite of bacon. “Very appropriate. Does everyone’s name apply to them that way?”
“Pretty much.” Zak sighs with a smirk. “Spider, Jackal’s cousin, is deadly quiet, lethal, and he climbs fucking everywhere with ease. Our treasurer is Crunchy because he’s a CPA and—“
“Crunches the numbers?”
“Yep. VP is Marbles.” Zak crosses his arms against his chest and waits with a smirk.
“Because he lost them?”
“You know it. Everyone has some stupid nickname due to a personality flaw or physical attribute, you’re not really in unless everyone forgets your real name.”
“Does that mean Summer and I are in then?” I tease. “Blondie and Ruby Red are things no one has ever called either of us, which must mean we need to start shopping for our own motorcycles.”
I was just joking, but the way Zak is looking at me has my mouth suddenly dry and heat licking up my spine. I’m not sure if the spark in his eye is a good thing or not, but it sure does make my panties wet. Too wet for the confusion I’m feeling.
“I should probably get going.” Zak gets to his feet and lets his hair fall back in his face. “I’ve taken up enough of your time and need to get back to work.”
I guess that look wasn’t a good thing.
Silly, stupid girl.
“Ok. Yeah, sure.” I clear our dishes and my throat. “I washed your socks and shirt and fixed the hole in it, but the blood stained.” Feeling stupid and defeated, I head to the laundry room and grab the black T. “I got most of the blood off your vest though, I hope that’s ok?”
“Thanks, Blondie.” He takes both from me. “When did you have time for that?”
I shrug as I wrap my arms around my waist. “I don’t sleep much.”
“Ah.” He nods, pulls on his shirt, the vest, and then his socks. “I appreciate it, appreciate everything you did for me.”
Tears burn my nose and throat because I wish this man could be mine, but I force a smile. “It’s the least I could do. You’ve bailed me out of a couple of shitty situations, so fixing you up and making sure you were ok is hardly a repayment.”
I follow him into the living room, watching as Zak pulls on his jacket, then steps into his big ass boots. When he fishes his keys out of his pocket and slides his baseball cap on his head, I can’t really explain why I’m so sad, why it feels so final, but I am and it does. It feels like good bye, and I seriouslyhategood byes.
“Stay out of trouble.” Zak gives me a soft smile. “No more dive bars.”
