He didn't look up when she entered, just grunted and stayed bent over the open hood of a gutted Honda. Today, even the bolts, grease, and engines were getting more attention than her.
"I've got the Escalade details," she said, voice firmer than she felt. "Do you want me to put in the paperwork for a lost title?"
"Nah, not yet." He motioned toward the wall. "Put it on the board."
"That's it?" She folded the printouts in half. "No thanks for using the whole day to chase down a VIN that was missing the last two numbers?"
"Thanks." He pulled on the side panel, breaking it loose from the frame.
She rolled her eyes at his back. Yesterday, he'd given her the stars, the moon, and the closest experience she's ever had to feeling a boy, a man, touch her. And today, he acted like it wasn't a big deal to him.
If this was how men and women acted after they hooked up in the clubhouse, then why would they keep doing it? Where was the pleasure in ignoring what happened?
Roma stepped forward and leaned against the car, staying within his peripheral vision. When he still wouldn't look at her, she traced her finger along the tattoo on his bicep.
He stiffened. Not dramatically, as if her touch disgusted him, but the tightening in his shoulders and stiffening in his spine were obvious. Something about her had him on guard.
"I need to talk to you," she asked quietly.
"There's nothing to talk about."
"Of course there is." She paused, and when he refused to look at her, she said, "Kodiak?"
He finally turned his head, eyes sharp but tired. "Don't."
"You keep saying that like it'll stop me from talking." She leaned closer. "You're the only one that I have. Don't stop being you. Don't treat me differently because—"
"You want me to spell it out for you?" he snapped. "What happened yesterday shouldn't have happened. It won't happen again. And it doesn't matter how close you stand, or how many times you grab my arm, or lean over my shoulder like you don't know what you're doing, I'm not going to touch you."
Roma's throat went dry in shock. Then, a flood of adrenaline warmed her.
"So youdidnotice me today," she said, softer now. "Good."
He stepped back like she'd slapped him, running a hand through his hair, smearing grease through already-messy strands.
"I notice everything when it comes to you." He lifted his gaze and locked in on her. "That's the damn problem."
Her heart skipped. He looked wrecked by the confession. She wasn't a disease.
She took a step forward. "I'm not gonna apologize for wanting you. I want to domorewith you."
Kodiak swore under his breath and moved to the other side of the car. She followed.
He ran his hand underneath the wheel well. Tension rolled off him, making his breathing uneven.
Her fingers lightly brushed his forearm, testing to see if he'd get mad. When he let her continue, she moved up his arm, slowly and deliberately, until her palm rested above his elbow. He looked at her. She lifted her brows, knowing he felt what she was feeling.
"Are you going to ignore me?" she asked.
He dipped his chin. "What's happening between us will go away. It has to."
"You're making it more complicated than it is."
"I'm forty-five years old." He shook his head. "You're a kid compared to me. What do you think the Royalla members would think if I hooked up with you?"
She reached up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. "Look at the hoppers that come to the club to fuck the guys. They're not much older than me. Do you think they'll even care?"
"Fuck, yeah, they'll care. You're not a hopper. You're Chopper's daughter." He straightened to his full height, displacing her hand. "We're going to forget what happened."
