Page 22 of Unmasking Secrets
“Your parents don’t know where we are and the club is under orders not to tell them, for now. Nobody but the ones here know where you are.” I swallow as my gaze flickers to her lips.
The urge to press mine to them and see if they’re as soft as they look is strong.
“What’s it like?” She licks her lips.
“Huh?”
“Being here, but not being a part of it? Although, it sort of feels like you are. At least, more than you think you are.” She shakes her head.
Oh, the club. “I’m surprised none of them have asked me.” I glance at the closed bedroom door then back to her.
“I mean, I heard you were pretty firm with your decision when you declined the offer to patch in.” Her hands slowly drop from my chest, but she remains close.
I step around her and move to the bed. Thinking back to that day isn’t always easy. I sit on the edge of the bed and hang my head down. I wasn’t a straight forward decision. Sometimes I wonder if I made the right one. After everything I’ve been through, I wasn’t ready.
Now, after having time to process—I don’t think I’ll ever be.
“I’m not the same person I was before the military.” The things I’ve experienced and lived through. It’s not easy to talk about.
“Neither are the rest of the men downstairs.” She drops to her knees in front of me. Her hands rest on the top of my thighs. “Did you forget most of them would actually understand what you’ve gone through?”
Of course I didn’t forget. I know they would be the easiest to talk to. But, I don’t want to. It’s not what I want to do. I want to move past it—forget it.
My hands move to her hair, fingers tangling in the soft curls. “I forgot how soft it was.” I wrap one of the soft curls around my finger. Her eyes close, and she leans into my palm.
How can she still be so trusting? Of course, I’m happy she feels this way around me. But after everything. It’s been too long.
Years have gone by, but one thing remains the same. Even if it’s awkward between us, there’s still this instant comfort.
It feels like home. She feels like home.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
TABITHA
Ijump up with a squeal after the ball goes into the pocket. My head is a little fuzzy after twoverystrong rum and cokes, but I play my best game of pool when I’m buzzed and confident.
“Has he seen that?” James chuckles behind me.
I look over my shoulder to see him staring at my ass. “What?”
“What made you get his initials?” He smirks as he walks around the table to face me.
James shakes his shaggy blonde hair out of his eyes. He’s had the same curtain-style haircut since we were kids. It makes him look like he belongs in a nineties boy band, not a motorcycle club.
“It’s just a flower.” I reach back and tug my shirt down to make sure it’s covered.
“Uh huh.” He leans over, but his eyes twinkle with mischief. “I’ve never seen letters in a flower before.”
“It must have been the light; it’s just swirls inside of it.” It’s a lie—a flat-out horrible one—but I’m not ready to admit the truth to anyone. It’s the same thing I’ve told anyone who’s asked, outside my tattoo artist, who knew what I wanted.
Honestly, I never thought I would get more tattoos. The hummingbird was the only one I ever wanted when I was younger. It was the one I knew I wanted, even as a teenager.
Until I found out my best friend was married and didn’t tell me. At the time, we’d grown apart and were never around each other. It was my way of carrying a piece of him with me, even though life moved on without us. Just like the hummingbird was to carry my great grandmother with me, this was something to remember him by.
It’s not like I even saw either of my tattoos. I often forget they were there, since they were both on my back. I know it seems silly to have tattoos with meaning somewhere where I won’t even see them. It’s not like I get the constant reminder of them. But, now and then, I’ll remember, and it feels like they have my back.
It means something.
