She wanted me to leave her alone. She’d told me a whole bunch of times, showed me with her actions, too. So I did as she’d asked, no texts, calls, and no more visits. Yet Sky haunted me like a ghost.

I thought of her when I visited Ace, of course. It made sense in that context, where I’d seen her, touched her, heard her laugh. When I passed the supply room where we’d folded sheets, of course it made me think about our stolen moments, the way she’d looked up shyly into my eyes. When I looked in the mirror over Ace’s vanity, it was Sky’s face I remembered looking back at me as she shaved my head. The feel of her fingers against my neck, gentle, tantalizing.

I thought of her when I bought her pies. Good thing I was a big man and I worked out a lot or I’d be getting fat off those things. I swore she put crack in them they were so addictive.

But I thought of her other times, too, when it didn’t make as much sense. Even when it would have been a hell of a lot better to not be thinking about her. Like when I started spending time with Nikki. She’d worked as a waitress at Ace Bar last year, then left to work at a gym as a personal trainer and spin instructor. She had a body that wouldn’t quit, a pretty smile, and an easy personality. We’d always gotten along fine, and when we’d run into each other at a local coffee shop one thing had led to another.

To be honest, mostly I started dating her to get my mind off Sky. We weren’t exclusive, but we started hooking up around the holidays, which meant that by the end of January we’d been spending time together for a couple months. It wasn’t exactly the stuff that filled romance novels, but it was something. And I could tell, Nikki was starting to feel something more. She was getting attached, wanting to go to the next level. There we were, both of us 28 with friends of ours getting engaged and married.

Last year, the first of my good friends, Chase, had tied the knot. I’d been shocked as hell. All he’d focused on that I knew of was swimming, training hours and hours each day, getting so good he made it to the Olympics. But apparently somewhere in the middle of all that he’d gone and decided to get married. I guessed from a certain perspective, it made sense. Once he fell hard for someone, he’d gone for broke. Chase was so intense that he never did anything half-assed.

But then over the holidays, the unthinkable had happened again. Easy-going Liam, voted most likely to be found at a beachside barbeque beer in hand, had popped the question. He and his fiancé were now planning a wedding the following summer. My friends weren’t exactly dropping like flies. Zeke, and I was sure Ian, were both still confirmed bachelors, but I could feel it around me, the subtle shifts in the sand. First one, then another. Before I knew it, bam, I’d wake up 30 and half my weekend plans would involve my friends’ kids’ birthday parties.

Ace wanted to meet Nikki. “When are you going to bring this girl by?” he asked me one Monday afternoon. It was raining in Southern California, a rare occurrence, and the two of us sat in chairs watching the courtyard get drenched.

“Dunno.” I ran my palm over my freshly-shaven head. I should probably introduce the two of them. Nikki had asked me about it, too, wanting to meet him over Christmas. But I hadn’t made it happen.

“You like this girl?” Even his unenthusiastic tone gave me the answer I had inside.

“She’s all right.” There was nothing wrong with Nikki. A lot of men would kill to be with a girl like her, all California blond good looks with her beach body and bright white smile. She was low-drama and easy to spend time with, no hulking violent husband lurking in the shadows.

But deep down, I wasn’t feeling it. I guessed on the surface it might look like I was being a typical guy, dragging my feet, not wanting to get into anything serious. But I knew a fear of commitment wasn’t at the heart of this. It hurt to remember it, but I’d felt pretty damn serious about Sky. That day I’d asked her to leave with me, if she’d done it I never would have looked back. No regrets, I would have become her man. I guessed once you’d felt that intense about someone, experienced that kind of electric connection, everything else paled in comparison.

“She’s nothing like Sky, huh?”

I turned to Ace, surprised, almost wondering if I’d spoken my thoughts aloud without realizing it. “Don’t worry, Jax.” Ace patted my arm. “Your secret’s safe with me. But sometimes I wonder if it should stay such a secret.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. You don’t have to play it cool with me. I know what she meant to you, how you fell for her.”

We sat there together, the rain falling fast and hard outside. He was right. I had fallen for Sky. I hadn’t seen her in months—four to be exact—and I still couldn’t stop thinking about her.

“Why don’t you go after her?” Ace looked at me direct and serious. “Tell her how you feel?”

“She’s married.” I looked out into the rain.

“That can change.” Ace had gone through two marriages himself. He knew a thing or two on the subject.

“The thing is, I did go after her,” I admitted. It felt good to tell someone. “Back in September, I went to go see her. I asked her to leave her husband.”

“And?”

“She said no. Told me to leave her alone.”

Ace let out a low whistle. “Not good.”

“Not good.”

“That surprises me,” he added. “She really liked you. I could tell.”

“Not enough.” I didn’t doubt that Sky had liked me. She’d as much as told me that. But real life seemed to throw in a lot of obstacles. Sometimes what you wanted simply wasn’t what you got.

“You know, son, it might be time for a change.” Ace nodded out into the rain, and I knew he was right. “I appreciate your moving back here to Cavallo. I know you did it for me. But I’m doing good. I’m happy. And I have you to thank for a lot of that.”

“Well, I don’t know about that.” Ace was too generous with his gratitude.

“I do. And I think the only thing keeping you here anymore is me. You should move,” he declared. “It’s time.”

“What about the bar?”

“Cash out. Open a new one. You only live once.”

I sat next to him in silence, thinking about his advice. It echoed the thoughts I’d been having lately, more and more, like a drumbeat growing louder by the day.

Over the next couple of weeks, Griller came into Ace Bar a few times with his girlfriend. It seemed like he’d given up all pretenses of having a wife. The two of them didn’t look like they were hiding a little something on the side. They looked like an all-out couple. They knew each other’s drink orders and called each other’s pool shots. Griller wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. I didn’t think he ever had.

I took pleasure in having him thrown out of the bar, and he gave me ample opportunities. He picked fights when he got drunk, claiming some guy looked at him funny or tried to hit on his girl. The man was a loose cannon. He had crazy written all over him.

One night when Griller started a fight, the president of the Skulls was there to see it. As he stood and watched Griller break open a beer bottle over some poor schmuck’s head, I recognized the look in his eyes. It was the same weary high school principal look I had when I had to manage stupid bullshit.

A guy like Griller, he came in handy when he could be managed, his violence channeled in specific directions. But that was the thing with guys like Griller. They did not like to be managed. One day, Griller was going to lose it at the wrong time, in the wrong place, or with the wrong guy. The Prez knew that, I could tell by the guarded, displeased way he took it all in, and the subtle, disgusted shake of his head. When that day came, it would be Griller’s last.

But there was no telling what would happen to Sky in the interim. The thought of that psychopath with Sky made me sick. But she couldn’t have been more clear. She wanted me to stay away.

So I hung out with Nikki. But even while I spent time with her, my mind stayed fixed on Sky. And even an easygoing girl like Nikki finally called me on my shit.

“You’re a million miles away, Jax,” Nikki said to me one night. She’d stopped by the bar to say hello. It was a Tuesday, our slowest night of the week, and the place was dead. There was no good reason for me to be so detached and distracted, barely able to focus on our conversation while she told me about her day.

“Sorry.” I seemed to be saying that to her a lot lately.

“This isn’t working, is it?” she asked, not sounding too bent out of shape over the fact. I just looked at her, the truth in my eyes. I knew the problem was me, but I didn’t seem to be able to change it.

“You’re a good guy, Jax.” She finished her drink and pulled on her jacket. “You’ll make some girl happy. But it isn’t me.” She kissed me on my cheek, even our break up staying at a low heat.

“Nikki—” I started, wishing I had something good to say.

“You knew this was coming.” She stood up, toned and sexy with her long legs and skinny jeans. Only I didn’t want to be the one going home with her. “Better to pull the plug now than drag it out.”

She gave me a smile when she left, slightly downcast but nothing a fun night out couldn’t fix. I was pretty sure Nikki had never felt depressed in her life. She woke up on the sunny side of the bed every morning, and rested her head on a pillow with sweet dreams every night.

It was probably something fucked up and dark inside of me that I couldn’t connect with her. I’d always said it, trouble dogged me my whole life. Only now I was realizing maybe there was something in me that sought it out, or attracted trouble to me like a magnet.

With a girl like Nikki, I’d probably sail through life. We could probably go years without having a real, deep conversation. She might never ask me hard questions, probably wouldn’t ever want to really get to know me. Hell, she might not understand me even if she did.

A girl like Sky? I felt like she knew me without even asking. It was as if she looked at me and saw the best and worst of me all at once. Like I could tell her anything, confess to her my worst moments and she wouldn’t even blink. I’d even told her how I still hated myself for Ian’s injuries on that damn boat 13 years ago. Never would I talk to Nikki about something like that. But Sky hadn’t just listened, she’d seemed to understand my guilt and self-loathing. And with the touch of her hand, the caress of her words, she’d lifted some of that burden.

Sky seemed to accept the worst in me, but also see who I wanted to be, too. The way she looked at me, blooming under my attention when I noticed little things, flushing with pleasure over small helpful gestures, she made me feel like a hero. Like I could be the man I’d always wanted to be with her.

Too bad that would never happen.

I had my cock in my hand when I finally made the decision. I know, so like a man, the little head doing the thinking for the big head. But sometimes it took a visceral, physical cue to get things through my thick skull.

I was in the shower, heat and steam loosening me up after a long day. I’d pushed myself through a brutal workout, then spent some hectic, long hours at the bar. At three a.m. I finally got home, alone and still revved up from all the fights I’d broken up plus the tense words I’d exchanged with Tommy. That partnership was fraying so bad I wasn’t sure how much thread still held it together.

Naked, hot water pounding down my body, I reached down and took my cock in my fist. Eyes closed, I let myself fantasize, picturing Sky’s breasts pressing against her thin cotton T, her nipples standing out in arousal. I palmed my length, stroking as I remembered the softness of her skin, the way she’d parted her thighs. Her eagerness, pressing my hand to her pussy. How wet she was for me and the sounds she made, urgent, desperate almost, begging me for more.

I came hard as I always did when I thought about Sky. Standing, panting, heartbeat racing, I realized things were not going to change. It had been six months since I’d seen or talked to her and I was not moving on. Sky was as vivid and potent to me now as she had ever been.

But she wasn’t in my life anymore. Most likely, I’d never see her again. It was time to make a change.

The next day, I cashed out of my partnership in the bar. Tommy practically shouted hallelujah and danced his way through signing all the paperwork. He turned me loose, no problem.

Now I could make the fresh start I needed so badly. Because I didn’t seem able to do it in Cavallo. It was time to move on.