Page 13 of Blue

He frowned.

Blue fidgeted with the edge of her nail. The acrylic had chipped slightly. The confrontation, as well-intentioned as it may have been, made her stomach knot with nerves.

Facing her avoidance of her clubhouse would mean admitting it all happened. Breaking up with Mooky meant severing her ties with her friends. They were collateral damage.

The guilt compounded her sadness. He didn’t have to rub her nose in it.

“You think I haven’t noticed you aren’t at the clubhouse?”

Blue peered up at him, ready to object, but words failed her.

“In case you weren’t aware, you kind of stick out.” He reached for a lock of her bright, two-toned hair and tugged it for emphasis.

She slapped his hand away.

“So, when you aren’t around, we know,” he said.

Lowering her gaze, she picked at some lint on her top.

Shit.

She’d expected pissed off and some sort of punishment from the club for breaking up with Mooky. This… She didn’t know what to do with this response. Bikers were supposed to be assholes. This concern bullshit befuddled her.

“Mooky’s on a run,” she said.

“What’s that gotta do with shit?”

Blue shifted her weight from one foot to the other before reaching up and ruffling her hair. Avoiding eye contact with him, she scanned the parking lot as though searching for something. The right words, maybe? A better excuse was more likely.

“The shops been—”

“Why are you lying?” he interrupted her.

She wanted to balk at his accusation, but he was right.

Fucker.

“Mooky’s gone on runs before. You’ve always come to hang out at the clubhouse. You and Basketball Tits are staples. And don’t feed me some bullshit about the tattoo shop.” His hand came toward her again.

Blue inhaled sharply.

His fingers gripped her chin and dragged her focus back to him.

She clenched her teeth as the wave of regret washed over her. Losing her friends was the last thing she wanted or needed.

“What’s going on with you?”

The sincerity in his words and the worry in his eyes twisted her gut. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she tried to come up with a believable lie.

Her mom was sick. The dog ran away. Her car broke.

The more she looked at him and the concern growing in his expression, the more she knew she couldn’t—shouldn’t—lie to him. He’d been a good friend to her since he’d arrived in Ohio.

Swallowing, she closed her eyes.

“I broke up with Mooky,” she whispered the words out loud for the first time.

The spear to the heart she’d felt that night twisted in her chest again. It was all she could do not to burst into tears right there in front of the biker.

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