Page 23 of Jet

“Okay,” and he turns back to finish the race.

I ignore the glances from my club brothers. I know that they support me. They support this thing I have going on with Nicky, but I also know that they’re worried about me getting my feelings hurt. Fizz has mentioned more than once that he thought insta-love was only a thing in romance books. I’m not an idiot. I know this isn’t love. Yet. But I’m not going to deny it isn’t something. I can just feel it in my bones that Nicky is the man for me.

My bones are never wrong.

Our biggest issue is his worry about losing this new family. No way in hell am I going to minimize his feelings, but I can sure as fuck let him know that he isn’t going to lose any of us.

So I’m going to take him for lunch at the diner in town and make sure he knows that whatever happens between us, he will always have a family here.

And then, when he is ready, I’m going to let him fill my dimples with cum.

I will be the best boyfriend he’s ever had.

Chapter eleven

Nicky

“Idon’t suppose I can get you to ride on the back of my bike, can I?” Booker says as we make our way to the parking lot.

“Nope, but it’s cute that you tried,” I say with a laugh. Hanging out with Booker and the guys this morning was a lot of fun, which I didn’t expect. I mean, I knew they were fun guys. I just didn’t expect to be welcomed into the fold as easily as I was. I'm sure that they’ve all got some kind of opinion about Booker and my non-relationship. “So where are we off to?”

“I was going to suggest that we go to the diner for lunch, but it’s a beautiful day out. I’m not sure how many more good days we’re going to get this year with the Oregon weather, so I ordered a couple of cheesesteak sandwiches for take out, and we are going to ride to this spot I know.” Booker smiles wickedly at me. “It’s the exact spot that one day you’re going to tell me you love me.”

I just shake my head and get on my bike. Putting my helmet on, I make sure I watch Booker as he gets on his bike. Well, I watch his butt anyway.

I don’t know what to do about Booker. There is no denying that I have feelings for him. I’m just going to do what I always do in these kinds of awkward situations. I’m going to ignore it. I don’t want to risk my family, but I need to spend time with him. He sucked me into his orbit, and that’s where I’m going to stay now.

As we head out of the car lot, I stare at more than just Booker’s butt. He looks like he was made to be on a bike, relaxed yet confident. I love the look of his cut as well. The black leather with the silver stitching of a gargoyle in the center, Fallen Gargoyles MC curving the top with his name underneath. I did some research on biker clubs and wearing cuts. They are vests (though if you call one that, you’ll get bitched at), to identify what club they’re in. Like sports jerseys.

We pull up outside the local diner, and I realize I have no memory of getting here. I was so focused on Booker and what he looked like. I should probably pay a lot more attention when we ride to the viewing point he wants to show me.

Booker is back within a few minutes with our food, putting in his side saddle bags, and then we’re off again. This time I make sure I pay attention for the ten-minute ride.

I really do love the beauty of Oregon. I’ve only been here twice before for work. And I hope to fuck that this isn’t going to just be a visit. This is definitely a state I could settle down in.

Soon enough, I’m pulling up behind Booker and once again staring shamelessly at his body.

I really should look around at the pretty scenery. We’re near the top of a hill overlooking a valley below.

“It’s beautiful, Booker.”

“I’m really glad you think so,” He smiles back at me, dimples on full display. He has to know what they do to me. “This isn’t the exact spot where we're going to eat our sandwiches, though.Follow me. There’s somewhere where we can sit and look at the view.”

A couple of minutes later, we are sitting on a rock stool with our food in between us, looking out over the Valley. Pretty soon, the only sounds are the paper rustling from our sandwiches and the local wildlife.

Booker and I sitting in silence doesn’t feel awkward. It doesn’t feel like we need to fill the silence. I feel completely comfortable around him. There’s a part of me that can imagine our whole life being like this.

Just being.

With him.

I shake the image away. I need to see how things go with Kenny, Stella, and Reed. I don’t know how to get that kid to like me. Or just tolerate me without making mean, passive-aggressive remarks. It kind of makes me feel like living with my birth parents again.

“What are you thinking about?” Booker asks, looking at me shrewdly. “It doesn’t look like you’re having happy thoughts.”

I sigh. “I’m thinking about Reed. I don’t know what to do to make them like me.”

“I’ll talk to them. Tell them to lay off you.”

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