Page 48 of Trip

Bailey smirked, wiping at an invisible tear. “If anything, we should be the knights charging to save them from their own egos.”

“Exactly!” I exclaimed, slamming my glass down for dramatic effect. “They think they’re untouchable, these leather-clad protectors of justice or whatever, but half the time, they’re the ones causing the damn chaos.”

“Amen, sister.” Bailey’s grin widened. “If they weren’t so busy growling and brooding, maybe they’d actually notice that we’ve been holding the fort this whole time.”

“Here’s to us,” I declared, raising my glass again and giving her a wink. “The real warriors in their twisted little kingdom.”

“Oh, there you are,” Laurel said, plopping her ass down in a chair as she grabbed the bottle of tequila and groaned. “I see I’m late to the party. So, what are we talking about?”

“Bossy men,” Bailey damn near shouted, drawing a few looks our way.

Laurel tipped the bottle back, barely bothering with the glass, before setting it down with a thud. “Bossy men, huh? Sounds like my kind of conversation. Let me guess. Trip’s being a control freak again?”

I rolled my eyes. “When is he not?”

“Ugh, don’t get me started on Banks,” Laurel groaned, dragging her chair closer. “That man couldn’t lead his way out of a wet paper bag. Do you know he wants me to have another baby? Me? At my age. I told him to go fuck himself. My uterus is closed.”

“Told King the same thing.” Bailey snickered. “Said I was a one and done girl.”

“What about you, C.C.? Do you want kids?” Laurel asked.

Shrugging my shoulders, I admitted, “Never gave them much thought. Besides, I like my life the way it is now. Having a kidwill put the brakes on a lot of things. Things I’m not ready to walk away from.”

“Like the circuit?”

I nodded. “Been my dream since I was little and could hold a wrench in my hand.”

“What does Trip say?”

I looked at Laurel and frowned. “What do you mean? Why does it matter to him?”

Laurel looked at Bailey, who slowly shook her head and said, “Our girl over here is on the fence. She’s not sure she wants to be a part of our group.”

I crossed my arms and leaned back in my chair as the weight of everyone’s gaze landed squarely on me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied, my voice sharp but steady.

Bailey smirked, the kind of smirk that said she knew more than she was letting on. “Oh, come on, C.C. You’ve been riding the Trip train since the wedding. You just don’t want to admit it.”

Bailey tapped her nails on the table, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “It’s not a bad thing, you know. Wanting a place to belong. Even I had to admit that once.”

I rolled my eyes, but my defenses softened. “Belonging isn’t my issue. I’ve always had the circuit, and that’s enough for me.”

Laurel tilted her head. “For now. But life has a funny way of throwing a wrench into your plans, doesn’t it?”

I sighed, knowing they weren’t going to let this go. “Alright, fine. If I’m on the fence, it’s because I don’t know if I’m ready to deal with all the baggage that comes with your group. You guys have history, drama, and enough complications to fill a book.”

Bailey laughed, a throaty sound that echoed through the room. “Honey, we are the book. Stick around long enough, and you might even get your own chapter.”

Laurel raised an eyebrow, her smile widening as if she’d won some mysterious argument. “Think about it, C.C. We’re not saying ride him into the sunset. Just... give our boy a chance.”

I scoffed, shaking my head.

Looking up at the mountain of stairs before me, I tried not to make too much noise, not wanting to wake my mom or brother. Bad enough I was three sheets to the wind. I was in no mood for a lecture on the Southern rules of decorum for a genteel Southern lady.

There wasn’t a genteel bone in my body.

Never had been, never would be.

I paused, leaning against the wall for support, and caught my breath. The stairs loomed above me, a mountain to climb in my inebriated state. I giggled to myself, imagining what my mother would say if she saw me now. Her rules of decorum, drilled into me since I was a little girl, seemed absurd in this moment. I could almost hear her disapproving voice echoing in my head.“A true Southern lady always conducts herself with grace and poise. She never raises her voice, and most certainly never touches a drop of alcohol.”

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