Page 20 of Trip

“Okay, and that’s a problem because?”

“Because he’s also a brother in the Sons of Hell MC.”

“And now I see the problem.” Amber smirked. “Gotta say, C.C., you sure do like living on the wild side. Do you know what your brother will do when he finds out that you slept with a brother in another club? There are rules for shit like that.”

Groaning, I flopped back on my pillow. “I know!”

Amber tapped her chin as if deep in thought, then leaned forward conspiratorially as she looked directly into the camera. “So, what’s the plan? Are you going to avoid him, confront him, or pretend like the storage closet incident never happened?”

I rolled my eyes. “As if any of those are viable options. We are going to be working together, Amber. I’ll have to see him every day. It’s like the universe is trying to ruin my life.”

Amber grinned wickedly. “Or maybe it’s giving you a second chance to, you know, revisit the storage closet magic.”

I groaned loudly. “You’re impossible. This isn’t some rom com where I fall back into his arms and everything gets magically fixed. This is real life, and in real life, I’m screwed because my brother will kill me if he finds out—and let’s not forget the biker thing! You know how Rome feels about me with another biker.”

Amber shrugged, unconcerned. “Well, if you’re already screwed, might as well enjoy the ride.”

I glared at her. “Not funny, Amber. This is serious.”

Amber leaned back, crossing her arms as she studied me with a gleam of amusement. “Alright, serious face on. Let’s hash this out. First off, do you actually like the guy, or was this just one of those... ‘heat of the moment, storage-closet-and-a-whole-lot-of-bad-decisions’ kind of things?”

I hesitated, chewing on my bottom lip. “I don’t know, Amber. It’s complicated. He’s... different. I mean, he’s not what I expected from a biker in another club. He’s smart, funny, and... okay, ridiculously hot. But it’s not like I went out looking for this to happen.”

Amber waggled her eyebrows. “Ridiculously hot, you say? Well, that changes things. Maybe the universe doesn’t hate you after all.”

I shot her a withering look. “Focus. This isn’t about how hot he is. It’s about the fact that I’ve tangled myself in something that could blow up my entire life. You heard me—entire. Life.”

She tapped her chin thoughtfully before snapping her fingers. “Fine, then here’s what you do. One, keep it professional at all costs. Two, avoid any situations that involve storage closets, and three—big one here—don’t let your brother sniff even a whiff of this. Seriously, C.C., play it cool.”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Cool? Amber, I don’t do cool. I do awkward, panicked, and full of regret. And let’s not forget we’re talking about Rome. He’s basically got a sixth sense when it comes to me doing something he doesn’t approve of.”

Amber shrugged unapologetically. “Then you’ve got your work cut out for you. But hey, who knows? Maybe this guy is worth the risk. Maybe, just maybe, he’s not the villain here, but the guy who’s going to help you write your own rules.”

I laughed bitterly. “Rules? Amber, my life’s less ‘rules’ and more ‘chaos with a side of disaster.’”

Amber smirked knowingly. “Exactly. And sometimes, chaos is where all the best stories come from.”

After hanging up with Amber, I quickly jumped in the shower and changed my clothes. With family still in residence because of the holidays, I knew my mother would demand that I be on my best behavior.

Heading downstairs, familiar voices caught my attention as I entered the living room to find my mother, along with Auntie Gail and Uncle John, entertaining my brother Rome with stories of Rosewood, Virginia. But that’s not what caught my attention.

Nope, what stopped me dead in my tracks was the smug bastard smiling at me.

“Oh, there she is,” my mother said warmly as Trip and every man with a dick in the room stood.

Southern manners at their best.

“Cosette, I would like to introduce you to Mr. Calvin Hall. He will be joining us for dinner.”

“We’ve met,” I sneered as the fucker walked over to me, took my hand, and kissed the back of it, slightly bowing.

“Play nice, Slick, before you crash and burn,” the bastard whispered.

I pulled my hand back and shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass. The tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to choke on, but Mr. Hall—no, Trip—seemed utterly unbothered.

Of course he did. The man oozed arrogance like a cologne, and apparently, everyone else in the room was eating it up.

“So, uh, how exactly do you two know each other?” My brother Rome’s voice broke the silence, his eyebrow quirking in curiosity.

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