“Oh. My. Lord.”

Chantelle’s hands press over her mouth as she stares at the four men who climb out of the massive black truck that just pulled up in my drive. The men are helping me move a few of my things over to Mason’s house today for my month’s trial. It isn’t much, one load, but my car is tiny, and it’ll take me all day to go back and forth with clothes, and shoes, and other things. So, they’re helping.

I don’t know why they needed four people to help; it would have only taken one. I’m not complaining, though. Hell, seeing four bikers moving my stuff around is perfectly fine by me. I had a rough night last night, and I didn’t sleep. I’m looking forward to working and taking my mind off of everything. I told my boss I was leaving and, strangely, he didn’t seem to mind.

Here I thought he loved me.

“Shhh.” I grin, jabbing Chantelle in the ribs. “Calm yourself.”

“I had an image in my head, but my lord, I didn’t expect them to look like that. I don’t know how I’m going to keep it together.”

“They’re all taken, I think. Well, except Mason.”

“Which one is Mason?” She leans toward the window, and we watch the four bikers stride up the front path.

“Hot one, long hair.”

“Oh. Fuck. You’re living with him? With that god-like creature? Imagine busting him coming out of the shower? Gosh. My vagina aches already.”

I snort and shove her again. “Come on, let me introduce you. And calm yourself. We’re cool kids, yeah?”

She rolls her eyes and we walk out of my bedroom and to the front door where I give her one more look and then open it. We’re faced with four incredibly gorgeous bikers, all dressed in leather, all smirking at us. All except Mason. His eyes, gosh, I’ve seen so many eyes but his are almost vacant, and that’s a little scary. It’s scary to know something in life can cause someone to shut off like that, to just block out everything they feel.

I wonder how he’ll feel living with me.

Will he find it difficult?

“How’s it goin’, darlin’?” Malakai drawls.

I grin. “It’s going pretty good, now you showed up with the hot brigade. Boys, this is my friend Chantelle. She’s practically peeing her pants over your hotness, but I promise she’ll be on her best behavior. Chan, this is Malakai, Maverick, Koda, and Mason.”

She squeaks and steps forward. “I’m so excited! This is awesome! Bikers!”

Her voice comes out as a chirp, and her cheeks are flushed.

I laugh.

All the men introduce themselves to her, and her eyes linger on Mason. I can’t say I blame her. Standing there, rugged as hell in his faded blue jeans, dark black tee, and leather jacket is bound to make any woman weak at the knees. Hell, I’m struggling to make eye contact with him. I need to get my shit together or I’ll find myself losing my wit around him.

“I don’t have much,” I say, leading the four men into my bedroom. “Just all those bags.”

I stare at the bags; there are about ten of them in total. I packed pretty much anything I could get my hands on so my room felt more at home. I’ve seen the room Mason is putting me in, and it looks fit for a freaking princess with its massive king bed, separate bathroom and toilet, and furniture that I couldn’t afford even if I sold my damned body for ten years.

I need some comfort.

“Not much?” Koda says, looking at it all.

“Well, now that you point it out, I may have gotten a little over excited. But I like to be comfortable, you know?”

Koda glances at me then grins. “Yeah.”

The four men start loading up the bags, and I run around, looking for other things to take with me. I glance at my painting on the wall. I could hang that up, really make my room comfortable. I pull it off the wall when a man barks behind me, “No.”

I turn around and see Mason staring at the painting, his face somewhat horrified. I let the painting go and cross my arms. “What do you mean no? It’s my room.”

“No way in fuckin’ hell that paintin’ is touchin’ one of my walls.”

I purse my lips. “Why not?”

“It’s fuckin’ hideous!”

I stare at the painting. Okay, sure, to the untrained eye it may come across as rather grotesque. It’s hard to explain, but it’s kind of a tangle of naked bodies, and there is an eye right in the middle. It’s an expensive piece, and I like it for some twisted reason. I always had a thing for the items that were different, unlike all the rest. I don’t like anything standard.

“It’s not hideous,” I protest, facing him. “If I’m going to come and work for you, this painting is coming with me. I dare you to fight me.”

Malakai comes in behind Mason and glances at the painting. His face scrunches.

“Don’t scrunch your nose up, there is nothing wrong with it.”

“It’s nasty, darlin’.”

“It’s not nasty,” I snap, crossing my arms. “Do you men want me to come and scrub your friend’s house, probably wash his nasty sheets, clean his gross toilets, or not?”

“Not if that paintin’ is comin’,” Mason mutters, crossing his arms and giving me a look that just dares me to argue.

“If you don’t take the painting, buddy, you don’t take me. And I’m worth it, I promise you.”

Mason glares at me; I glare right back.

“You should know, I’m an exceptional cook, amongst my other maid-like talents. You’ll regret not letting me and my incredible painting into your house. Live a little, I promise it won’t bite.”

Mason grunts. “What-fuckin’-ever. Put it somewhere I can’t see it.”

“Last time I checked, I had my own room. And I’m like ninety percent certain you’re not coming into my room, so we’re safe.”

“Only ninety percent sure?” Maverick says, stepping up beside Malakai and frowning at the painting.

“Stop scowling at my painting, you bunch of amateurs! It’s lovely. And yes, only ninety percent certain, the other ten percent of me is female, and he’s all broody and angry and that makes my vagina do weird things, so I can’t say for a hundred percent certain he’ll never come into my bedroom.”

All three men stare at me, then Malakai and Maverick burst out laughing. “Fuck me, you’re one in a million, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Maverick chuckles. “Can’t wait to see how this ends.”

I don’t let Mason comment to my little outburst. I’ve never been known to sugar-coat things, unfortunately. I’ve always been rather loud and said what I needed to say and always told the truth. Even if, at times I’ve been informed, the truth makes people uncomfortable. I would rather, any day, an uncomfortable truth over a white, hot lie.

Those things destroy people.

And I’m not into destroying people.

I’d much rather them be uncomfortable.

I find Chantelle dragging my last suitcase out of my room. “That’s it, those big, hot men took the rest. I think Mason likes me.”

I raise my brows. “I’m not entirely sure Mason likes anyone. In fact, I’m starting to think the man is incapable of doing anything but grunting, let alone feeling anything, but do share why you think this.”

“Well,” she tells me, leaning in, “he said hello before in the hallway when we were waiting.”

I blink at her, then give her a wicked grin. “My lord, sounds like he wants into those panties. He said hello? Wow. That’s big, Chan.”

She shoves me, laughing. “Okay, well, he was probably being polite. But my God, my knees went wobbly. I’m visiting you every day, I swear. And I want photos. If you see him without a shirt, at any point, I want a damned photo of it. God. I can only imagine how he looks naked. Better yet, imagine how he fucks, all angry like that. He’d be an animal.”

I sigh and roll my eyes. “Only you would be thinking about sleeping with him. Mind out of the gutter for five minutes and let’s focus on me not killing him before I make the month. He said my painting was hideous.”

Chantelle stops then bursts out laughing.

“What?” I mutter, putting my hands on my hips.

“Honey,” she giggles. “It is hideous. So freaking hideous.”

I sigh.

Bunch.

Of.

Amateurs.