Page 41 of Lucky's Trouble

I climb up the ladder and am pleasantly surprised. There are giant windows on both sides of the A-frame ceiling. The center is probably tall enough for Lucky to stand straight, but only just. One end is a wooden railing that’s painted black to match the downstairs, and the opposite side has two black doors, where I’m assuming his closet is. Positioned between two of the windows is a king-size bed with tan sheets, a blue comforter, and a gray throw. On the top of the bed are throw pillows in the same colors.

There’s an animal skin—not sure what kind—rug underneath the bed and a wooden bench at the base. Downstairs is bland and has no personality, but it’s both beautiful and masculine up here. I love it.

I drop the blanket covering me and climb under the covers, choosing not to wait for him to bring up my bag with a set of pajamas inside. I’m wearing my comfiest underwear, and thanks to my tantrum, Lucky’s seen it all anyway.

Lying on my back, I realize the windows serve a bigger purpose than letting light into the small space. When I look up, the moonlit sky and twinkling stars are in my line of sight. It’s incredible.

“You like the view?” Lucky heaves my duffle up before finishing the climb into the loft.

“I love it.”

He walks over and hands me a remote. “It’s nice at night, but it’s shit if you don’t want to rise with the sun. It’s smart glass, so if you remember, press this button before you go to sleep, and it’ll make the windows go opaque. It still lets light in, but it’s better than the sun beating down on you at six in the morning.”

“Thanks.” I take the remote and set it next to me. “But I need a little more time with the moon.”

He lies next to me but stays above the covers. “Tonight’s a full moon. You know what that means, right?”

“No. Never been into astrology.”

He chuckles. “Wait until you meet Bones tomorrow. You’ll hear all about it, more than you want to, I’m sure.”

“I meant to ask who Bones is.”

“He’s the club’s doctor and also runs our weed shop. He’s big into all that astrology and witchy shit,” he says. “But I digress. A full moon is a time to release negative energy. I think you released a lot of it tonight.”

I look up at the big, bright orb in the sky. “Guess I picked the right day to do it.”

He pats my hand and climbs off the bed. “I’ll let you sleep. That bottle of water on the nightstand is for you. Drink it.”

He moves to the ladder, turning and stepping onto the rungs. Before he disappears completely, I stop him. “Lucky?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

* * *

I wake with the sun since I forgot to press the button to make the windows opaque. Or maybe it’s because I hear Lucky talking in a hushed tone on the main level. I probably only got a few hours of sleep since it took some time to wind down last night, but I feel more rested than I ever remember feeling.

Sitting up, I reach for the water bottle on the nightstand and chug the whole thing down before climbing out of bed and digging a pair of sweatpants and a clean T-shirt out of my bag. After dressing, I climb down the ladder, not finding Lucky anywhere.

When I hear his voice again, I realize it’s coming from outside. I peer out the window and see him talking to another biker on the porch. The other man has long brown hair that hangs well past his shoulders and is shorter than Lucky, with a slimmer build. His nose, lip, and eyebrow are pierced, and he has on a lot of jewelry. There’s a thick silver chain around his neck, leather cuffs and bracelets on both wrists, and he has a belt loop chain on his hip.

Biker Jesus must feel my eyes on him because he glances over, and our gazes meet. He lifts his chin, and Lucky looks over. Holding up a finger to the other man, he steps inside.

“Mornin’.”

I clasp my hands in front of me. “Hi.”

This is awkward. I know he feels it, too. We keep getting ourselves into situations that are way too intense for two people who just met. If I’m honest, way too intense for any two people, regardless of how long they’ve known each other.

“Bones stopped by to check you out. I told him you might need some time before—”

“I don’t need a doctor. I’m fine. Really.”

“If I don’t let him check you over, he’ll tell Cy, and I really don’t want to get my ass chewed out by my Prez. You’ll be doing me a favor just letting him take a look.”

I comb my fingers through my messy hair. “Okay. Can I freshen up a bit first?”