The goal of the project was simple: to get deaf kids involved in bike races. The best way to have them involved was to include them in the pimping process for bikes. Bobby’s role was to ensure that the activities the children would participate in were completely safe for them – and for the racers who would eventually ride the bikes. It should have been simple, really, but not when two Greek alpha men were butting heads over it.

“Graphic wraps are too much for the kids to handle,” Sabastian Gabris drawled. Unlike the rest of the club members, who were all in shirts and jeans – including Leandro, Sabastian was dressed in a pinstriped suit. He exuded sophistication and power, a modern-day king who was used to being obeyed.

“I beg to differ.” Leandro Christopoulos’ voice was clipped. Except for Helios, Leandro was taller than all the other club members, and with a larger and more powerfully built frame that vibrated with strength and raw masculinity. He was a man’s man, the kind who didn’t hesitate to fight dirty to stake a claim.

“The application of graphic wraps may be intricate and complex, but it can be taught. Just because the kids in Bobby’s foundation are deaf doesn’t mean they’re not trainable.”

“Training is the operative word,” Sabastian pointed out. “We have a very limited time frame to work with and you must admit that as they are handicapped, it would require more time than usual to train them.”

“I can also argue that since they are handicapped and disadvantaged, they also possess more willpower and ambition. It could be the other way around, and you may need lesser time than usual training them.”

Kellion’s whisper into her ear almost made Bobby jump as he said, “They’re having a pissing contest because of you.”

Bobby colored. “Shut up,” she whispered back even as she kept her gaze trained on Sabastian – and Sabastian alone. No way was she going to look at Leandro, who had looked like he wanted to kill her earlier when she stuck to Sabastian like glue as Helios explained to Leandro about Sabastian also being a member of the club.

Sabastian said calmly, “I don’t agree.”

He returned in the same tone, “Then we have a problem.” The other guy’s calmness irritated Leandro like hell, and he itched to give Mr. Pretty Boy a good punch in the face. All the time, however, he kept his gaze resolutely on Sabastian’s face, knowing that he could not be responsible for his actions if he happened to see Sabastian holding Bobby’s hand.

Something in the air changed, the atmosphere becoming tenser. Bobby started feeling restless again. Why had Sabastian come here anyway? He had made no mention of it last night, and she wondered uneasily what her friend was planning. She had gotten to know him quite well over the last year, and it had made her realize that Sabastian was a great believer in using shock therapy to get things done.

When Sabastian drawled, “Actually, I don’t think we do,” Bobby had a suddenly sinking feeling that whatever Sabastian had planned, it wasn’t something she’d be happy about.

Leandro said coldly, “I believe you’re right. Because in this case, I’m simply going to pull rank and make an executive decision. Graphic wraps will be a part of their training.”

Sabastian only smiled. “Not so fast, Christopoulos. Don’t you want to hear my proposition first?” Before the other man could speak, he said languidly, “Why don’t we settle this the old-fashioned way?”

Understanding broke over Leandro’s face, but he remained distrustful of the other guy’s intentions. “If you’re suggesting a race, I’m not interested.”

“Even if the prize is something you desperately want?”

* * *

“Helios says you can talk here privately,” MJ said as she opened the door to the club president’s private study. As Sabastian and Bobby walked into the room, she added, “All the rooms here are soundproofed, too, by the way.”

Bobby did her best to smile. “Thanks, MJ. We won’t take long.”

MJ nodded before quietly closing the door.

Bobby immediately erupted, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She began to pace, anxious and spitting mad at the unexpected turn of events, and it was all thanks to her so-called friend. She shook her head, still having a hard time believing that Sabastian had actually – oh my God, how could he?

She threw her hands up in frustration. “This isn’t the movies, Sabastian! I can’t be the grand prize for your stupid race.”

Sabastian settled on the couch, his posture completely relaxed as he stretched his arms on the back of the couch and crossed one leg over the other. Observing his friend’s frantic pacing, he said mildly, “Please don’t accuse me of something I’m not guilty of. I never said anything about you being grand.”

In answer, Bobby simply took the throw pillow from one of the armchairs and threw it at him. “I’m serious, you ass.”

Sabastian caught it handily. “And I’m just as serious. You should be thanking me, moro mou.”

“Oh, really? Pray tell why,” she said sarcastically.

“Because I’m giving you the chance to get closure without having to sacrifice your pride,” Sabastian answered simply.

Bobby collapsed on the space next to Sabastian.

Closure.

She had a feeling she would become hysterical.

Only Sabastian…only Sabastian had known how hard the past year had been because they had both been the same. While the whole world thought Bobby Granger had been able to move on with Sabastian Gabris by her side, the reality had been uglier and more pathetic.

Leandro’s betrayal had broken her, cut her so deeply that she had sunk into a severe depression that required medical treatment. And it was at the private clinic where she was receiving treatment that she had met Sabastian, who had been broken like her.

“I don’t need closure,” she whispered.

Sabastian’s voice was gentle but firm as he said, “You do. You know you do.” Bobby was like a sister to him, and the protective brotherly part of Sabastian was tempted to take back what he had said and whisk her away from harm. Because that was what Leandro Christopoulos was to her – danger of the greatest kind.

Unfortunately, Leandro Christopoulos was also the only one who could make her happy in a way that no other person could.

Love was crazy that way, a double-edged sword that could kill if it remained unrequited and unsheathed.

Grimly, he remembered the day he had met Bobby in the clinic, the days where she would only stare sightlessly for hours as if she had already died and was only waiting for death to claim her physical body. And the other times, he would hear Bobby in the counseling room, crying. For hours she would cry, unable to speak a thing because her pain was so great it couldn’t be encapsulated in words.

“This is your chance for closure,” Sabastian repeated. “The only way you can finally stop hurting inside. Because we both know you’re hurting still.”

Slowly, Bobby covered her face. Darkness flooded her world and she welcomed it, wishing she had the power to keep it that way. Darkness was comforting in its emptiness somehow. There was nothing to be happy about, but there was nothing in it to hurt her either.

“I don’t want it. I’ve learned to cope.”

“Coping isn’t enough---”

She shook her head, looking at him desperately. “It’s enough for me. So please, Sabastian, don’t make me do this. I don’t want to lose myself again.”

Quietly, he said, “You haven’t really found yourself, Bobby. All you are now is a shell, and sooner or later, that’s going to crack.”