“And you don’t want to.”

It’s not a question; it’s a statement.

“No, I don’t want to.”

“Why?”

I shake my head. “What do you mean why?”

“Why is bein’ his old lady not good enough for you?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I snap, throwing my hands in the air. “It’s not that it’s not good enough for me, it’s that it isn’t me.”

“How would you know?”

“Jesus, Maddox, because I am not like the rest of those girls. I am free, I am independent, and I don’t do well with being told what to do.”

“You talked to the rest of those girls?” he asks, his voice still causal.

“No.”

“Maybe you should.”

“What good would that do?”

He steps forward, leaning down close. “A biker doesn’t just consider anyone to be his old lady. Especially not bikers like Krypt; he has never asked a girl to be an old lady. It’s a fuckin’ honor to be given such a role, and it’s not to be taken lightly. There are girls that would give up everything to be noticed.”

“I’m not one of them,” I whisper, staring into his eyes. “And I never will be.”

“Then you don’t deserve him, so here’s what I’m goin’ to tell you: if it’s what you really want, then you stay the fuck away from him. Krypt doesn’t need shit like this in his life; he’s lived through enough. You decide you’re too good for him, then you don’t put your pussy near him again.”

“I never said I was too good for him, Maddox,” I protest.

“Then what are you sayin’?”

He turns and walks off, not letting me answer. I drop my head against the trunk of the tree, suddenly feeling like an asshole for acting the way I did. It’s not that I don’t want to be with a man like Krypt, because that isn’t the case. It’s just that the idea of giving up everything to spend my life on the back of a bike . . . I just . . . I can’t.

“Hey.”

I lift my head to see Santana. She’s giving me a gentle expression. “Are you okay?”

I shrug, turning my face away from hers.

“I heard what Maddox said. He’s not right, Ash.”

I turn back towards her. “Isn’t he?”

She shakes her head. “No, he’s not. Being an old lady isn’t for everyone, and it doesn’t make you a bad person.”

I stare at my hands. “I care about Krypt, but he’s not given me the chance to need more from him. He took me from my life, and now I’m stuck here and I’m confused. I don’t know where I’m at. Then he loads me up with that, and it freaked me out. I am an independent woman, I love my job, and I love having a life. I don’t think being cramped up as an old lady is where I want to be . . . but it doesn’t mean that Krypt isn’t every-fucking-thing, because God knows, he could be.”

She smiles, touching my arm. “You don’t need to think about all this right now. The fact is, you don’t know him or the club well enough to make that decision. Get to know them while you’re here, but in the end, it’s your choice, Ash.”

“And if I fall for him?” I whisper.

“Then maybe your choice will be easier.”

I shake my head.

“You know what? Let’s go and get drunk. We both need it.”

I tilt my head to the side and smile at her. “You want to get drunk?”

She gives me a wicked grin. “I love to do what I’m not supposed to.”

I grin back. “I’m all in.”

Santana goes to the house and returns five minutes later with a bottle of tequila. We sit in the trees taking shot after shot, until we’re laughing and giggling like schoolgirls.

“I heard them saying you can fight real good?” she says, leaning against me.

“I can. I had to learn with my training.”

“I want to see you beat one of them . . .”

I laugh. “Ohhh, that would be fun.”

We fall silent for a minute before she shoves to her feet. “Maddox will have a fit when he knows we’re out here drinking.”

I raise my brows, standing too. “Why?”

“Because he’s an over-controlling asshole,” she deadpans.

I giggle. “He is.”

“Let’s go inside and torment the whores.”

I throw my head back and laugh, and then we both weave out of the trees and head back towards the house.

There is a drinking session going in full-swing when we enter. There are bikers everywhere and girls with no tops. I let my eyes scan the room until they fall on Krypt. He hasn’t noticed my entrance because there’s a woman serving him a beer, pressing her breasts against his face and giggling as he bites her flesh.

My heart twists.

Why is it twisting like that? I just told him I didn’t want anything, and now it’s hurting. God dammit, I’m one of those girls. I shake my head, turning to Santana. She’s giving me a sympathetic expression that I refuse to acknowledge. Instead, I walk over to the large pool table in the living area and I take a cue.

“Who wants to play? I’ll take my top off if you win. If you lose, I get to kick your ass?”

A bunch of bikers laugh gruffly, and three stand up. I’ve not been introduced to them. One is an older man, around sixty or seventy. He’s got a long, grey beard and kind eyes. The other two are younger, both extremely handsome and buff like Maddox and Krypt. One has blond hair and dark brown eyes, and the other has long, brown hair and hazel eyes.