Page 14 of Bull's Boy

But that would be taking advantage of Bull’s kindness.

Watching Dahlia dig through his cupboards for the two plastic wineglasses he’d picked up at the dollar store after she complained about having to use a coffee mug at his place, he debated how much to tell her. She knew about his date ditching him, but he wasn’t sure how to explain their boss beingincredibly sweet to him and his worry he was using him for a night out.

“Ah, here we go,” she muttered, twisting off the top to the wine bottle and pouring them both a generous amount. She handed one to him and grinned as she took a sip from the other, which saidcheers bitchesin big swoopy letters. Malcolm’s was just plain pink—they were literally the only two wineglasses he could find that day at the store, and she never let him live it down—so they usually ended up fighting over thebitchesone. “So what’s really going on with you?”

He followed her the few steps across his apartment into the living room area and quickly took the weird, bright red chair that rocked. It didn’t stop when you leaned back, so people tended to end up flipped on their backs. The one time Dahlia had sat on it, she’d screamed bloody murder as she’d gone backward, and then a police officer and EMS had knocked on his door because his landlord had called 911.

Can’t fix the leaky faucet in Malcolm’s bathroom, but he had no issue reporting a possible “assault in progress.”

Sighing, he took a gulp of wine and then forced the words out. “You know when you left yesterday and asked Bull to stay with me? Which was a dick move, by the way.”

Her pretty hazel eyes shot wide, and she scooted to the edge of the love seat. “Obviously. Did… something happen?”

“Yes.” He groaned and covered his eyes. “He felt so bad for me he invited me to a party this weekend. And because I’m a loser without a social life, I said yes. And now I don’t know how to tell him he doesn’t actually have to do it, and it’s just gotten so weirdand messed up and—” He peeled his hand off his face and glared at her. “Why are you fucking laughing?”

“Because!” She had to pause to take a breath and calm her giggles, but she was still smiling widely. “Because you’ve been freaking out about this since yesterday, but it isn’t a big deal. Bull invited me and Becca too.”

He sat up straighter. “He did? You guys will be there too?”

She shook her head. “Sadly, no. We’re visiting Becca’s family and going to her sister’s baby shower this weekend.”

“Oh. Right.” He slumped, wobbling precariously. He’d forgotten about that. Becca and her sister were super close, and they’d been planning the shower practically since her sister peed on the stick.

“But you should definitely go,” she said, crossing her legs and settling in. A clear indication she planned to stay for a while and continue to give him hell. “It’s at Marv’s clubhouse, so you’ll have a blast.”

He squinted at her. “Marv’smotorcycle club’sclubhouse?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, her newly pink-tinted tips swaying around her. “My hairstylist hangs out there—or maybe lives there with his boyfriend? Oh, wait, no, I think they’re engaged now. Either way, Ollie is a riot. I’m jealous I can’t come with you guys. I hope we get another invite in the future.”

He still wasn’t convinced Bull’s invitation yesterday hadn’t been accidental, but the fact he’d also asked Dahlia and Becca took a load of guilt and worry off his chest. If Bull was regretting it, he wouldn’t have invited even more people to go, right?

The Devil’s Hands’ clubhouse was huge. The second Bull opened the door for him—which he tried not to feel weird about, his belly going squiggly for some reason—they were blasted in the face with noise. The place was full of people and vibrating with music and loud voices, the scent of beer and fried food drifting in the air.

It was exactly what he needed.

A tall guy maybe a few years older than Malcolm was hanging out just inside the door and immediately stood from his stool, coming at Bull with an outstretched hand. There wasn’t a name on the leather vest he wore. Instead, the patch on his left pec just said Prospect.

“Bull! Long time, man. How’ve you been?”

Bull shook his hand, smiling. “Hey, Tony. Tomas still hasn’t patched you in yet?”

Patched him in?

Tony rolled his eyes but was grinning. “He’s taking the no-favoritism thing to an extreme.” He glanced at Malcolm, seeming a little surprised, but quickly cleared his face back to his welcoming smile. “Hey, man. First time, huh?”

“Oh, um, yes?”

“The huge eyes gave you away.” He winked at Bull. “Plus, this guy doesn’t usually bring anyone around.”

Tony extended his hand again, but before Malcolm could accept it—or decide how he should take the news that Bull never brought anyone to the clubhouse and was Tony assuming they weretogether-together since Bull was gay?—a shorter man with a face he could only describe as angelic grabbed Tony’s arm and pulled it over his shoulders, snuggling into his side.

Bull snorted next to him.

Tony smiled down at the top of the new guy’s head, looking indulgent, but his voice was firm when he said, “Brat, there’s no reason to get territorial.”

The “brat” ran his eyes over Malcolm, then turned away dismissively, nuzzling into Tony and saying something too softly for Malcolm to catch. Bull must have though, his face hardening into the same scowl he’d given Evan that day in the department store.

“Tony.”

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