2
I realize I’m in a bit of a pickle when I can’t even find my own car keys.
After Ace proposed to Erin in front of us all, we had double the reason to celebrate, and the alcohol really started flowing. Erin, Eden, and Erin’s college friends who had come to the party all started throwing them back.
From the bar, straight down my throat.
I drove here, thinking I’d have one or two drinks, eat something to make sure I’d be under the limit, and then go home. But now? I’ve lost my keys and am most definitely too drunk to drive. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing besides sitting on the MC’s couch, checking for my keys in and under it, but coming up short.
“I’m sure this couch has swallowed my keys,” I tell Erin. “They were right on my lap, and now they’re missing. They have to be here somewhere.”
“We can find them tomorrow morning. You should just stay here tonight,” she pleads next to me, pouting. “Come on, there’s plenty of room, and that way you don’t have to come back for your car tomorrow morning. I’ll even sleep with you in my room; Ace can sleep on his own for one night.”
“If she really wants to go, we can get Jasper to drop her off,” Ace grumbles, looking between Erin and me, clearly not liking the idea of sleeping without his fiancé. “And I can drop her car off in the morning.” He looks at me then and says, “But you’re welcome to stay, and you sure as fuck aren’t driving home in your state.”
I don’t want to steal Erin. And I don’t need Jasper driving me anywhere. He’s the one who poured the drinks that got me into this “state,” which I both love and hate him for. I can’t even remember the last time I had this much to drink. I usually like to stay in control at all times, so drinking isn’t a regular occurrence for me. I guess you can say I’m a bit of a control freak. I always like to be on top of everything, my mind clear and sharp, especially because I’m a journalist. I don’t like to be in a vulnerable condition where I need to rely on someone else.
Like right now.
Fuck.
Knuckles walks up and sits on the other side of me, the four of us all squashed onto one couch. “Are you okay?”
I nod and hiccup. “Everything is great. Just lost my car keys, but no bother, I’m not driving home anyway.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for them,” Erin assures me, leaning against Ace. “But I think you should stay. I’ll take you out for breakfast in the morning. It will be fun.”
The way Ace is looking at her, I don’t think she’ll be able to even walk in the morning, but I don’t say that to her, because the men are right here.
“I can drive you home,” Knuckles offers, pulling my set of keys out of his pocket, the rainbow-colored pom-pom key chain a dead giveaway. “And I found these on the dance floor. They yours?”
I nod and reach out for the keys. “Yes, thank you. You are a lifesaver.”
He doesn’t hand me the keys though. Instead, he clasps them in his now-closed fist. “Come on.”
“And then how will you get home?” I ask him, crossing my arms over my chest and studying him through a narrowed gaze. “This makes no sense. You’d just have to taxi it home, so it’s the same. Stop with the caveman shit. I’m a grown-ass woman, and I can get myself home. This isn’t my first rodeo.”
I start patting myself down for my phone, which I sometimes tuck into my bra, but come up empty. I search my handbag while Erin, Ace, and Knuckles all watch me, then I lift my head and wince, my eyes on Erin. “I think I lost my phone too.”
“Grown-ass woman,” Knuckles mutters under his breath.
“Says the man with a Viking tattooed on his thumb,” I grumble, sighing and then pushing my black hair off my face. I need to get out of here, and now. It’s all just going to go downhill from here.
“What’s wrong with Vikings? You seem to like them, from the background picture on your phone,” he fires back, now laughing to himself.
That photo is of an actor from the old show Vikings, and it annoys me because it gives away the type of men I’m obviously attracted to. Tall, bearded, tatted, the whole nine yards. Just because I’m attracted to them, doesn’t mean I go for them. My ex-boyfriend was a businessman, clean-shaven with a boring-ass haircut. That’s probably not a good example though. I do usually have a weakness for blue eyes, but suddenly brown are becoming appealing.
Crap.
Yes, I definitely need to get the fuck out of here.
I decide to steer away from Vikings. “So you have my phone too? Do you work for the MC lost and found or something?” I extend my hand, hoping he’ll just give it to me so this night can be over.
He reaches into his other pocket and pulls out my phone, smirks, then nods to my car. “No, I’m just the only sober person here. Come on, I’ll give it back to you on our way home.”
He starts walking to my car, and I drop my hand. This man is so stubborn.
“Brat,” I mutter, then look into two amused faces. “Is he always like this? Why won’t he just let me go home on my own?”
“He wants to make sure you get home safely,” Ace says, piercing gray eyes giving nothing away. “You’re important to Erin, which means you’re important to us. And he’s a good man; you have the Cursed Ravens’ word. You’re safe with him.”
“You can trust him,” Erin assures me, smiling in her “bestie’s” direction. “You’re in very capable hands.”
Yes, I’m sure I am.
But capable of what?
I picture him ripping my heart out and holding the bleeding organ in said giant hands. “Drunk me is morbid.”
“Huh?” Erin asks, brow furrowing. “You need to go home and get some rest, Celina. You’re looking a little pale and flushed at the same time. And you’re not really making any sense.”
I touch my cheeks, which are warm, and hunch my shoulders in defeat. Right now, I just want to go home and get into my own bed. If this Knuckles character is so determined to take me, then so be it.
The four of us walk outside, with Erin curled around Ace.
I step forward and give the birthday girl a big, warm hug. “I love you.”
“I love you more. Message me when you’re home,” she tells me. “And message me in the morning when you’re dying and hating your life decisions.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault. Your biker family really knows how to throw a party,” I say, grinning. “It’s been a while since I’ve let loose, so I guess I kind of went a little overboard. But that’s okay. I’m so happy I got to share this night with you, Erin.”
“Me too.”
I give Ace a kind of awkward hug, because I don’t really like touching people I don’t know that well, and thank him for having me over.
“Anytime,” he replies, eyes twinkling. “I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you around here again.”
“Ha. I doubt that,” I tell him, sighing and waving once more before slowly plodding to my car. I couldn’t look any less sexy, and I probably smell like a distillery, but hey, it can’t get any worse, right? Knuckles had opened the door for me and is waiting for me to get in. I blink a few times and wonder if a man has ever done that for me before. In my experience, men are nice at the start, but all of that changes when they consider you theirs. I haven’t been on any dates since my ex, and for good reason.
I’m happier alone.
“He won’t bite you!” Erin calls out, laughing.
Shit, I forgot we had spectators.
Her words set me in motion, and I get into the car and try to close the door myself before he can but of course he beats me to it. He’s just not going to give me an inch tonight, is he?
Maybe he’ll give you more than one inch.
I laugh to myself. Drunk me is hilarious.
And a little slutty.
“What’s so funny?” he asks as he gets into the driver’s seat.
“Nothing,” I reply with a smile, reaching forward to turn up the music as soon as he turns on the engine. I still can’t believe he insisted on driving me home. It’s so unnecessary, and I’d rather not talk to him when I’m like this, because who knows what I will say. But if I’m being honest, I haven’t had fun like this in a while, and Erin’s birthday slash engagement was the perfect excuse to allow myself to relax and let go, even for one night. It’s been just what I needed, even if I have to deal with the repercussions tomorrow. I’m going to let future me worry about that one.
“You like this song?” he asks me, pulling out of the Cursed Ravens’ parking lot, Ace closing the gate behind him.
“How will you get back in?” I ask him.
“I have a code,” he explains. “Easier to control who comes in and out that way.”
“Probably a good idea.” I yawn, glancing out the window. I’ve read articles over the years on the MC, and others, such as the Wind Dragons, and I know that they have to watch their backs a lot because someone is always out to bring them down. Or at least that’s the way it seems.
“And yeah, I do like this song. Are you going to judge me for it?” I ask, turning my head back to him. It’s an old Justin Bieber song, and there’s no way in hell he listens to this.
But when he starts to sing along, my eyes almost bulge out of my head.
He laughs hard when he sees my reaction. “I have two daughters,” he explains, grinning boyishly. “They listen to all this shit, old and new, and apparently make it so I’m up-to-date with all the music the youngsters are listening to.” He lifts his brow and eyes me. “I don’t know what your excuse is though, Miss Grown-Ass Woman.”
“I’m young at heart,” I tell him, pretending to be offended. I don’t know why I’m surprised he has children, but I am. “How old are your girls?”
And where is their mother? I want to ask, but I stop myself. It doesn’t even matter, because I’m not going to see this man again. And it doesn’t matter whether he’s single or taken, because nothing is going to happen between us. He is going to drop me home, and I’m going to thank him. End of story.
“Willow is thirteen and Westley is nine,” he says, and I can hear the love and pride in his tone.
“Pretty names,” I tell him, smiling to myself. “Did you choose them?”
“I did, actually. I wanted something a little unique but not too unique, you know? Do you like children?”
I start to reply, but this is also the moment my body decides to hate me for what I’ve done to it tonight. I can feel it the moment I know I’m going to be sick, and no amount of breathing and fresh air is going to save me. “Can you pull over? I’m going to be sick.”
I’ve never seen someone pull over so quickly, but I appreciate it. The last thing I want is to be sick in my own car and have to clean it up tomorrow.
He rubs my back while I throw up—something I’ve never done in front of a stranger before—on a grassy area in front of a building. The sounds I make are horrible, and I hate that he has to hear them and be witness to my acting like a teenager, not really the grown woman I’ve claimed to be. It’s dark, so I can’t see where we are, but it’s quiet and private. I’m going to hate myself tomorrow when I remember this moment. I guess Knuckles saved me from ruining an Uber driver’s night, so that’s one good thing, I suppose.
I start coughing, trying to get everything out of my system. I’m surprised he doesn’t hide in the car; instead, he’s close enough to experience the horror with me. If the tables were turned, I don’t think I’d be doing what he is right now, especially for someone I literally just met.
What a champion.
I guess being a dad, he’s used to this kind of thing.
“I think I’m okay now,” I murmur, wincing at the taste in my mouth. I need to brush my teeth, have a shower, and then go to bed for the next few days. I also need to forget that this ever happened. That would be great. I just threw up in front of a sexy, kind man, one who asked me out but I rejected, and yet he’s still taking care of me. I didn’t know men like him existed. “Where are we?”
“I think we’re out front of a church,” he says, shrugging.
I just threw up on sacred ground?
Great.
We’re both going to hell.