“She signed up for one of those mud runs, and I’m being barbaric by having her train with me so she doesn’t pull something during the 10K run or while going through the obstacles.”
Gator turns to me with a concerned look in his eyes, and I so don’t want to know what he’s thinking. Either he doesn’t think I can do it ’cause me and fitness aren’t necessarily buddies or it’s the opposite, that he has all the faith in me and is concerned that I lack the ability to see how awesome I really am. The first one is something I’m used to, proving to others I can do stuff they don’t expect. Me being part ofM, the dance crew that puts on elaborate shows, would shock people. I can be pretty flexible when given the right music to motivate me.
And if it’s the latter? Well, I honestly don’t know how to handle that kind of attention. It’s one thing for me to know how awesome I am, but it’s completely different when others see it for me. It’s not something I’m used to, even if my friends and family boost my confidence when I’m low. Gator is more than a stranger, but I’m not surefriendis the right word for it. We know each other, and for him to see things beyond the norm is a new thing I don’t want to dwell on today.
I scoffed. “I’m not throwing anything. Do I hate running? Yes, of course. Any sane person would. There’s zero benefit to it unless you’re being chased by zombies. Am I worried about a stupid obstacle course to run through? Again, unless you play He-man every weekend, I think I’m within my right to be apprehensive if I’m going to be able to get myself over a wall or not. Besides all that, if I’m angry at anything, it’s because you went behind my back and signed me up for this.”
“Shouldn’t have brought your work computer to misfit night if you didn’t want a little intervention.” Which is silly of him to say, since every night we get together is misfit night, if he really wants to make a thing of it. Everyone called us misfits as kids, so we just rolled with it. Even named our dance groupMafter it—not that many know that’s what it stands for.
Meekail grabs my wrist to prevent me from smacking his man, who’s taunting me. I notice Gator takes only a second to look Jordan over. The intense stare from him is enough to have Jordan looking almost sheepish as he plays with the water rings on the table.
“Sweetie, we were just trying to help. You asked us for ideas,” Jules says with a small smile, as if she understands. Which she doesn’t since she loves running. Crazy woman that she is.
“Ideas, yes. Never told you to write ‘10K mud race’ down as an option to get my kids to do their work as a motivator and submit it to the class on my behalf.”
“Wait, what’s going on?” Flint asks as he looks around the table, finally landing on his lady love to provide him the needed details.
With a simple shrug, as if the world isn’t on fire like it seems to be from my point of view, she tells my tale of woe. “Bailey is doing a summer course for the kids who failed their junior year of high school. She told them that if they work hard to pass, even she would do something she didn’t want to do. She came up with some ideas and sent it to the class to vote on. But like Jordan said, she brought her computer with her a few days back. After too many margaritas, she went to the bathroom, and I guess he added ‘mud run’ to the list and sent it out. The kids picked that one.”
“What else was on the list?” Gator asks.
“Karaoke bar, cross-stitch, and learning French,” I mutter into my beer as my friends’ laughter surrounds me. No sympathy from this group, that’s for sure.
I finally look up and only see blue eyes staring back. There’s an intensity there that I refuse to define. Maybe one day. But not today. And not tomorrow either.
“You need help? I can be there for you, Troublemaker.”
I audibly gulp and roll my lips between my teeth. I nod once, but that’s all I can do. I’m not sure what would come out of my mouth if I open it.Taking me here and now would help.Thank God I have a filter on my mouth, unlike Jules. Don’t need my thoughts to be voiced. But the way his eyes crinkle at the corners before his lip rises on the side makes me think he’s a mind reader.
“Let me know if you need something, Kitten. I’ll be at the bar.” Flint gives Jules one last kiss, which has her sighing contently as he leaves. Gator only stays long enough to chin-lift the table before he follows.
The collection of us watch. Okay, the whole place watches. Everyone might know to stay away from the Hounds, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t all very yummy to look at. I don’t think they have an ugly guy in the group. And yeah, I looked. Just isn’t natural to have so many hotties in one place.
“Why are they even here?” I grumble out loud. I don’t like to be out of my element, and Gator puts me out every time. He makes me react when I know I shouldn’t.
“You do know they own this place, right? Because of them, we get drinks half off. Why else would we come here?” Jordan says a second before Miles and Gidget descend on the table.
Why indeed?The drinks aren’t amazing, but the price has been lately. Now I know why.
And the eye candy? The one currently at the bar who keeps looking over at me? Yeah, that might also be a reason to come back here.
Chapter 5—Gator
“You keep staring like that and she might think you like her,” Flint says behind me.
I whip my head around and see him grinning at me like he just ate the last cookie when told not to. I roll my eyes because it’s not a secret that I like Bailey. Well, maybe to her. But the guy has a point. I don’t want to turn into a creepy stalker. Some chicks might get off on that shit, but I don’t think Troublemaker does.
And fuck, here I go again.Why did I have to name her?Everyone knows that once you put a name on a woman, old lady status is fast approaching. And while that might be my end goal, I don’t need others to tell her that before I do.
I didn’t even plan to call her that. Sure, the wordtroublerattles around in my brain when I see her. Her mouth gets her in trouble, and I’m sure the short fuse she has also does that. I’ve never seen her actually cause any trouble, just maybe minor inconveniences for others. But for me? I live for her smart mouth and feisty attitude. Got to admit, I don’t hate the name on her. She might not get it, but it gets me hard just thinking about it.
I’m so screwed.
And the worst part is a brother knows it, and he can’t seem to stop laughing at me for it.
“Whatever, man. Tell me what I missed while I was out.”
That gets Flint back on board with why we came here. I’ve got a hunch I know why, but when I went to his office earlier to get the rundown, he just told me to ride out with him and he’d tell me on the way. Which never happens. Bikers don’t really chat while riding next to each other. Sure, it can be done, but there’s an unwritten rule that a man on his bike on the open road is quiet time. Not sure what it’s like for others, but I find simple peace when I’m on my bike. If I did yoga or some shit, I bet I would call the timetranquilor something equally stupid for the wordrelaxing.
