Mason
“There’s no way Tom Curren is a better surfer than Kelly Slater.” Wade tosses his cards into the center of the table. “Fold.”
“He is, bro. Google that shit.” I scan my fanned-out cards and pull two, flipping them face down and pushing them to Rex. “I’ll take two.”
After my brother dragged ass back to Santa Cruz with a bruised body and a shattered ego, my life picked up right where it left off, starting with poker night at Rex’s. Drake swears his dad will take care of everything from here on out and that I’ll have exactly what I need to deliver in less than a week. He better be right, but history proves I shouldn’t be too optimistic.
“I wouldn’t fuck with Baywatch, man.” Rex slides my cards toward him. “He lifeguarded with Hasselhoff; he would know—”
“Real fuckin’ funny.” I throw a chip at Rex’s head, and he dodges it easily.
“I can’t find my keys,” Gia calls from across the room as she makes her way to us. Her flowing orange hair falls just past her shoulders in loose curls.
Rex’s eyes dart from her to his cards. “Must’ve lost them.”
“Right.” She moves in behind Rex and runs a hand over his messy hair before bending over to kiss his head. “Hand ’em over.”
He feigns innocence and pulls her hand from his shoulder to place a kiss on the underside of her wrist. “No clue what you’re talkin’ about, babe.”
“I’m not taking the bike. I just need my house key.” She rolls her eyes and acts as if this isn’t the first time her man has put her motorcycle on lockdown.
“Oh, in that case, they’re in the freezer.” He slaps down two cards and passes them to me with a slanted grin.
“You’re annoyingly sweet when you’re protective.” Gia ruffles his hair again and moves to snag her keys. “So, who’s winning?”
Lane, Rex’s guitar player, organizes his chips. “Like you have to ask?” He motions to his stacks with a big dramatic sweep of his hand.
Rex grabs Gia as she passes and pulls her down to his lap, his finger moving to play with the single diamond she has hanging from her neck. “Where are you girls going tonight?”
“Dinner, but I probably won’t be home until late. We always get to talking and lose track of time.”
“You having a girls’ night out?” Wade perks up in interest. “Is it with that dirty little blond waitress from The Blackout?”
“Dude, whatever happened to the girl you brought to Blake’s wedding? That was, like . . . a week ago.” I put my cards face down and take a long pull from my beer.
“She’s a sweet girl.” He grins.
The doorbell rings and Gia jumps. “Oh, that’s her.” She scurries off to the front door, and Lane lays down three of a kind.
“Nice, but . . .” I fan my royal flush and lay it down. “Bam!”
Rex and Lane groan, and before I pull all the chips to me, a voice tickles my ear. So familiar, I can almost taste the lips that it came from.
My entire body ignites, blood thunders through my veins, and my skin prickles with anticipation. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since that kiss . . . fuck, that kiss.
“Son of a bitch.” I mumble the words, and before I can even turn to look, Gia is at the table.
“Guys, this is my friend Trix.”
No shit.
I turn to look up at her and my breath catches. Dammit, she’s pretty.
She’s in baggy jeans that hang off the flare of her hips, ripped and rolled up to her calves. Her top is fairly conservative, a loose-fitting charcoal gray tank that has the words “Life Starts at Midnight” scrolled across the front. She’s wearing her hair more natural, aside from the purple, than I’ve ever seen it: long and wavy like she’s been hanging out at the beach all day. And fuck me: the girl’s wearing flip-flops, her toes tipped in pink nail polish.
“These are two of the guys Rex fights with, Wade and Mason.” Gia saying my name pulls my attention back to Trix’s eyes.
Her expression registers shock for a second before she wipes the look clean. She shifts uncomfortably on her rubber sandals and stares between us. “Nice to meet you.”
That damn voice makes my skin hot, and everything below my waist come to life, including my legs’ urge to run the hell out of here.
I don’t know how to act around this woman. I mean, she’s a stripper for shit’s sake. She has seduction down to an art and uses it freely as a way to earn a living. That’s all this is. My feelings, her face invading my thoughts, it’s what she’s trained to do, what she gets paid for. And I’m just the shmuck to fall for it.
“And I know you know, Lane,” Gia says in a knowing way that makes my fists clench and my gut burn.
Lane grabs Trix’s arm and pulls her into his lap. “Mm, baby . . . I’ve missed you.” He buries his face in her neck, and I’m so stuck on the visual I can’t move.
Dammit to shit.
Trix’s eyes dart to mine a split second before she pushes Lane’s head back and moves to try and stand. “Fuck off, Lane.”
“Oh, come on, baby . . .” Lane pouts but releases her. “Don’t act like you don’t miss me.”
She straightens her shirt and shakes her head. “You’re a dick.”
I can’t see her face through the thick waves of her hair, so I can’t tell if she’s okay, and not knowing fills me with unease.
“No, I got a dick.” He pushes his chair back, legs open. “It’s ready if you’re willing, baby.”
“Lane.” The word rumbles through my clenched teeth, and it’s taking every ounce of my strength to keep my ass in my seat. “Enough.”
The room goes silent except for the sound of Alkaline Trio playing on the stereo. Lane’s eyebrows pinch together, in confusion more than aggression, and the air around me is charged with tension.
Rex clears his throat. “Where are you girls off to?”
Gia’s wide eyes swing between Lane and me, and then she blinks and focuses on Rex. “Oh, um . . . we’re going to check out I Love Burgers.”
Rex nods toward the door, a silent maybe you should get the hell out of here to his girl.
She gets the message and grabs Trix. “Bye, guys.”
“Yeah, nice meeting you, Wade,” Trix says from behind me.
A surge of jealousy rages inside me. “Yo, Trix.” I cock my head to see her, my muscles tense.
The room is still quiet, and all eyes move between the mauve-eyed beauty and me.
“Yeah?”
“How’s your ass after our last run in? Better?” I immediately regret being such an ass as muffled laughter sounds throughout the room. Fuck if the high of being a jerk isn’t short-lived.
A small grin tilts her lips, and she straightens her shoulders. “Yeah, Mason. Why wouldn’t it be?” Her eyes slide slowly down to my crotch and back to my eyes, defiance shining behind them. “I barely felt it.”
The room erupts in a series of awww shits and she told yous, but I ignore them.
I lock eyes with Trix as she stares at me, anticipating something. Our gazes tangle, and I can’t help but get lost in the violet depths. Seconds pass before her expression falls. Her eyes dart among the guys, now painfully obvious about avoiding mine. Shit, why am I such a mess around this girl?
“Later.” She waves with a flick of her perfect hand and moves through the room to the door, Gia following behind her.
Way to go, genius.
Couldn’t have fucked that up any better.
Trix
“God, I feel like I might explode.” I lean back in my seat, hoping it’ll stretch out my belly enough to give the food I just ate somewhere to settle. “That was so good.”
Gia makes a pained face. “So damn good.”
We moan and groan for a second, and I consider how grateful I am for good friends. If this were a date, I’d have stopped at half a burger and passed on the fries, but with Gia, I can stuff my face until my heart explodes.
“Phew . . .” I take a swig of my beer. “I’m gonna sleep like a baby tonight.”
She tilts her head with tiny tilt to her lips. “You sound like an old man.”
“Sometimes I feel like an old man.” I rub my stomach and fake burp.
We laugh, and when it dies, she leans in with her elbows propped on the table. “How are you doing?” All that bright hair and those lightly freckled cheeks give her an innocent appearance that contradicts a painful past that shines through her thoughtful steel-colored stare.
I swallow and play stupid. “Whoa . . . call the party foul police.” I motion to her with my beer bottle hand. “Holy serious face, batman.”
She simply lifts one eyebrow.
I roll my eyes. “Gia . . . I already told you—”
“I know what you told me, but I don’t believe you.”
“Hatch and I hooked up.” I shrug and force myself to look casual. “Nothing more.”
“I think you miss him.”
My thumb rolls back the soggy label from my beer bottle. “I don’t.” I just need him.
She worries her bottom lip for a second. “You seem, I don’t know, different. Preoccupied maybe?”
“No.” I shake my head and shrug. After Mason’s blow off at Zeus’s and then again tonight at Gia’s house, I’m starting to think the guy despises me, but I just can’t figure out why.
“Crap. If it’s not Hatch, then . . . is it Mason?”
My eyes bulge out of my head. “What? Why . . . why would you? No!” I pull my hair back and twist it behind my head, thinking. How do I explain without outing myself? “Yes, I mean . . .” A long exhale falls from my lips, and defeat weighs heavy as I consider how to lie to my friend.
Would it be so terrible to let her in just a little? She could help me find the answers I’m searching for. After all, she lived with Hatch for longer than I’ve ever spent time with him. Neither she nor Rex talks about it openly, and she’s never divulged anything more than the basics of her time there. But maybe if she knew, if she understood the reasons for my searching, she’d offer something helpful.
“Gia?” I keep my gaze down, but feel her staring at me. “Do you know what it’s like to need someone you hate?” I peek up at her, and her expression is blank. “You almost have to become someone else to get close, and when you do, you realize you’d do anything, give up anything, just to get closer, even though you can’t stand the person?”
She recoils at my words, and I instantly feel like shit. After Gia took off and ended up living with Hatch at the Wild Outlaw MC compound, she was so messed up and dependent on him she could’ve died.
I depended on Hatch for information. She depended on him for survival.
“Gia, I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right. I meant that—”
“No need to apologize.” She shakes her head as if she’s trying to shake free the memories. “I know exactly what you mean, and of course I have. I know the feeling well.” Her fingers toy with the ripped ends of her paper napkin. “Rex, he, uh . . . he doesn’t like to talk about it.”
“I don’t blame him. You should’ve seen him the night he found out where you were.” A shudder runs through my body at the memory.
She nods. “Yeah, I know, but how can we move past it without talking? He never brings it up, refuses to even mention Hatch’s name. Even in therapy he shuts down. And the nightmares . . .” A long breath escapes her.
“Give him time. I’m sure he’ll come around.”
“Anyway what you and Hatch had was not the same as what I had with him.”
“It wasn’t what it looked like. I just . . . I need to find him and have him be okay.” Just, not for the reasons she might think.
She takes a deep breath, and upon exhaling, her shoulders relax. “It’s weird. Part of me wants him to be okay, but then there’s this other part of me that hopes he’s not.” She sits back and slumps in her chair. “If Rex ever gets his hands on him . . .”
Only nightmares could do justice to what Rex would do if he were confronted with Hatch again. Rex and Gia are like one soul, bound together for life and beyond. I’ve never seen anything like it, except for with my parents. Their love transcends all understanding, survives through the most tragic of life’s events, even death.
What would it be like to feel that kind of love? I can’t even imagine being at a point in my life where I’m free enough to experience it.
“Anyway, I’m sorry I brought it up.” She waves me off with a flick of her slender fingers.
I pick at my warming beer bottle. “Can I ask you a question? What was it like living in the MC compound? Did you, I don’t know, hear or see anything that freaked you out?”
“I was out of it most of the time. If I wasn’t, I’m sure it all would’ve been pretty freaky.” Her eyes go unfocused over my shoulder. “They had prospects that they’d push around: young guys who one day would be serving drinks and taking their shit and then swagger in with their cuts and emblems as full-fledged members. They would talk a lot about rites of passage and being bonded by blood.” She tucks her bright orange hair behind her ear. “I didn’t really hang out to listen.”
“I’m glad you got out of there. That could’ve ended very differently.” A shiver tracks down my spine.
“Because of you, Trix. You saved my life by going to Rex. I’ll never be able to repay you for that.”
“No need to. That’s what friends do.”
A wicked grin curls her lips. “Speaking of friends . . . I don’t care what you say. I know there’s something going on between you and Mason.”
My stomach bottoms out at his name. “There’s not—”
“Stop denying it!” She slaps her palm on the table and leans in to whisper. “Mason was going to rip Lane’s arms off right there in my kitchen.”
I groan and drop my head into my hand. “Nothing’s going on. I’m just as confused as you, I promise.” I push back and down the rest of my beer. “We keep running into each other, and every time we do, I can’t tell if he wants to kiss me or kill me.”
“In my limited experience, I’d say if he likes you he wants to do both.”
Likes me? Mason likes me? Do I like him? A swarm of butterflies takes flight in my belly, answering my internal question.
Oh shit! That’s not good. Sure, his hot-cold routine keeps me guessing. He’s definitely not hard on the eyes with his casual just-walked-off-a-Quicksilver-photo-shoot look. My body heats at the thought of his strong hands on me, his mouth covering mine, and his breath at my neck.
I slurp down some water, hoping to cool the heat, and search for a quick subject change. “You guys still looking for a house?”
She glares. “Nice try.” Her eyes study me so intently that it takes everything in me to not give her what she’s asking for and admit I maybe kinda dig Mason. “Fine, I’ll leave you alone for now. Just know he’s a really good guy, Trix. You could do worse.”
“Ha! All I’ve ever done is worse.” Mason’s too good for me. Too clean. Unburdened.
We sit and chat for another hour before our butts numb and our jaws are exhausted.
I drop Gia off at home and drive blindly the few blocks to my place. Most of our casual girls’ nights out aren’t littered with the heavy conversation we had tonight. Next time we’ll stick with a more standard less thought-provoking topic.
I pull into the garage, thankful that my roommate’s car isn’t there. She spends most nights during the week with her boyfriend. Not that I mind. She pays her rent on time, and I get the house to myself.
Grabbing my hobo-chic purse in the dark, I hear the contents ping-ponging down between the seats. “Dammit.” I reach over and fish up much as I can, shoving it back into my bag.
I push out of the car and, in one step, almost slam into the towering figure of a man. I gasp and clench my chest. “Holy shit!” My eyes tighten into a glare. “What are you doing here?”