Page 159 of Kneeling to Candy

Or maybe she’s the new girl. The girl next door. The girl you shared every single secret with in your darkest moments…

For some lucky bastards, you get to keep that girl. Marry her, raise a family, and grow old together.

Let’s face it—not all of us are lucky.

There are a few women in my life—past and present—who I love.

One—my mom. She was a wonderful woman who had too big of a heart for her own damn good. Sheila Cunningham was a queen among women, and braver than any man I’ve ever known. She lost my dad to a convoy ambush when I was still in her womb. I can only imagine how difficult it must have been for her to grieve while birthing me. For nine years, I was the luckiest kid in the world till I wasn’t. There’s not a day I don’t miss her.

Two—Jo, the sister I should’ve had instead of the twat half-brother I got. Our relationship is one similar to siblings, confiding to each other on a level few can relate to. Jo knows me better than most, probably more than Chase. I’ve laid my life on the line for her, and I’ll do it again because she means that much to me. She’s my spa treatment, rom-com Sunday buddy.

Then there’s Mama Bear Holland, my other adoptive brat sister—Simone—and the rest of the Mercy Raven MC women. They all hold a special place in my heart, all of them wonderful in their own ways.

Loving a woman is easy. It’s falling out of love that’s difficult.

And there’s only been one girl—one woman—I fell for. She who I refuse to talk about.

I shake off the memories as I cruise on my hog, refusing to ride down Memory Lane. But her name dances on my tongue…

Nope. Not going to say it. My lips are sealed.

My fingers drum over the grip of my handlebar, my heart jackhammering as her precious face enters my mind.

Fuck. Fine.

Natalie Devoux.

My Nat.

The only woman I’ve given my heart to. All was good in our relationship until she took our love and flushed it.

She was my everything. And for a time, I was hers, too—at least I like to believe so. It’s too painful to think I may have meant nothing to her when she was my whole damn world.

There’s not an hour in the day when Nat doesn’t infiltrate my thoughts. She’s my personal cancer, slowly flooding my body until I’m consumed with grief.

It’s been four years since I last saw Nat, rubbing her hand over the swell of her baby-bump. Damn near tore out my heart to walk away from her, but if she wanted Chad, I wouldn’t get in-between them. No matter how it made me feel, her happiness came before mine.

Some old ass poet named Kahlil Gibran once said, “If you love someone, set them free; if they come back to you, it was meant to be.”

Fuck that poetic prophet and the horse he rode in on.

For years, I’ve hoped she’d come to her senses and seek me out. When that stupid thought floats into my head, I go out and find a hot, willing woman to sink my cock into. The release is only temporary before my mind floats back to Nat like the tide going back out to sea.

Unrequited love is life’s greatest torment. For me, it’s a living hell.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my chosen family. My biker brothers and the women they call their old ladies are the family I choose, but I can’t help thinking, What if?

What if I’d listened to Nat before leaving for overseas and took her to Vegas to get hitched? Would it have made a difference?

I had the goddamn ring on me. Why didn’t I get down on my knee before boarding my flight and ask Atlas to marry us?

Fuck! These what ifs always drive me insane. I put on a brave face for others. But it’s a chore. Every day I suffer in silence, watching my brothers getting married and raising families.

That could have been my life if I eloped with Nat.

But she’s Chad’s girl now. She gave Chad everything, not me.

Of all the losers she could’ve picked, she picked him. Asshole extraordinaire. My little brother.

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