“I haven’t dated in a decade, so I’ll be no help, but you’ve gotta pretty face. I’m sure you’ll bounce back.” Yeah, not sure that applied at all to what she said.
She glances at me in the dim light of the fire. “That supposed to be a compliment?”
“I think so.” I adjust the crackling log with the poker. “Not in a creepy way, though. It’s just an observation.”
“Phew.” She tucks down next to me at the fireplace, another granola bar already in her hand. “As long as it’s not creepy.”
“Not creepy,” I repeat, doing my best to keep my eyes on the fire and away from her curved frame.
“So why haven’t you dated in a decade?” She sips from a bottle of water she found in the bag. “Is there a tragic heartbreak backstory, or are you just wildly unlikeable?”
I huff out a dry laugh. “There’s no tragedy or dramatics. It’s worse. I let time slip. The club took priority, and the silence was easier than trying to figure someone out.”
“That’s tough, especially for a guy your age.”
My chest tightens. “My age, huh? What the fuck does that mean?”
“Calm down, Grumpelstiltskin. I didn’t mean to offend you. I just… I don’t know. You’re old. You’ve been through a lot of shit. I’m sure you’re tired.” She shrinks a little, as though she didn’t mean for her words to come across as harshly as they did. “I’m tired and I’m only twenty-four. I can’t imagine what I’ll feel like at what… fifty-five?”
I sigh. “Forty-nine, but thanks.”
“Shit,” she drags in a deep breath and brushes her fingers back through her hair, “I’m sorry. Maybe I should take a nap. I’mexhausted and my brain is completely fried from all the drama yesterday. I could use like twelve years out here relaxing and I’m not sure that would be enough.”
“Yeah, that’s ‘cause love fuckin’ sucks. Not just love, feelings in general. That’s why I don’t see you handling the one-night thing very well.”
“What?”
“I mean, sure… it sounds good in theory. Screwing some stranger, having a wild night of fun and craziness, but, I don’t know, I think you’d have a hard time walking away after that.”
“No, I wouldn’t.” Her tone is defensive.
“Okay… you wouldn’t. Didn’t mean anything by it.”
“I really wouldn’t,” she presses as though she’s trying to convince me. “I don’t even want to know the dude. I just want him to take control of me, show me a good time, and send me on my way.”
There’s that cock again, reminding me I’m the man for the job.
Fuck!
“Seriously,” her tone lifts, “I mean, what do I do with myself now? Am I supposed to go on like my ex didn’t cheat? Pretend like I don’t feel completely unlovable, unattractive, and unworthy?”
“Jesus, that how you’re feeling?”
“Yeah,” she nods with raised brows, “I can’t shake it. What’s so much better about the other girl? I mean, everything judging by the nudes, but… that’s why it sucks.”
“Okay, you need to stop. What he did isn’t a reflection of you. It’s about him. He’s empty. He’s seeking something you couldn’t have filled even if you wanted to. This other girl won’t fill it either.”
She blinks and her voice drops as she says, “So then, why does it feel like I have no value, like I got thrown away?”
I think over her question as I grab another log to toss into the flames. “Reckon it’ll feel like that for a while, but throwing your virginity out the window and having a fun night with a random guy isn’t going to fix anything. You’ll feel better when you stop lettin’ some asshole determine your worth.”
She tilts her head to the side, her long crimson hair illuminating in the light of the fire. “Insightful, for a big, rough, inked-up biker man. I should listen, but my heart says the only thing that’ll pull me out is taking the power back.”
I narrow my brows and laugh under my breath. “And the power is…”
“Wild sex on my terms. Rough, crazy, out of this world, no holds bar, fucking. The dominant kind, where I can let go and enjoy myself. Feel adored and needed.” Her voice is breathy as she speaks, and I swear I’m about to volunteer as tribute. “What about you? I saw that patch on your back. I’m pretty sure you know a thing or two about crooked decisions.”
I stare at her for a long moment, unsure of what to say. Part of me wants to make some shit up and hide my past, but people talk. I’m sure she knows enough already. “And you’re not scared of me?”
