Page 15 of Where We Promise

“You’re not riding with him.”

It felt like a boulder had shifted in my chest, making room for the sun I had worked so hard to block out. He wasn’t supposed to make butterflies swarm in my stomach, or my face heat. This crush was supposed to die over the summer. That deadly concern swirling in his caramel eyes was new and it left me breathless. It wasn’t just worry…it was like someone attempted to touch something that belonged to him.

I knew after this moment that look had ruined me for anyone else for the rest of my life.

Drake’s brows knit together. “Dude, what the fuck is your problem?”

“She’s fifteen,” Jamie replied, pulling me closer.

I countered, irritated that it was only my age that seemed to bother him. “I’m sixteen in two months.”

“We’ve been dating the whole summer, so you can remove your hand and let her get inside.”

I wasn’t dating Drake, we were flirting and hanging out but not official. I also hated how a thread of worry slid through my chest that Jameson might remove his hand, or worse, himself if he assumed I was with someone.

I was about to argue and explain we were just friends when Drake shook his head and leaned farther to open the door.

“Well, she sure as shit isn’t staying here with you two. Aren’t you part of that fucked-up motorcycle gang? The Kings or some shit? Don’t you rape your women and steal everything you own? Every one of you should be in prison.”

Jameson dropped my wrist, but I didn’t step forward.

I had lived among clubs my entire life, some were bad, some were decent. But I knew how the rest of society judged them, and how cruel kids had been to me simply for being associated with them. The parents were critical assholes that were always rude to my mom and treated her less than merely for wearing patches and colors of the various clubs we were in.

I lifted my foot and kicked his door shut. “Lose my number, Drake.”

His expression twisted. “What the fuck, Penelope?”

“Fuck off,” I yelled, gripping the straps of my backpack.

“You actually know these losers?”

Luke stepped forward, but I put my arm up. “These losers are my family.”

I felt Jameson and Luke go still next to me. I had never really claimed them, nor had they claimed me, but Jamie was worried about me getting in the car and that had to stem from somewhere that thought of me as more than just an extra body in the club.

Drake drove off angrily, and there were only a few seconds of quiet before the bus pulled up. Luke got on first, I was next, and then I felt Jamie touch one of the curls at my back just barely before he climbed on after me.

It wasn’t until later that day in school when Jamie walked into fourth period English with me that I finally talked to him about what had happened. The spot next to me had been open, so he slid into the seat and settled his singular notebook and pencil in front of him.

Spinning toward him, I glared while the rest of the class filled in around us.

“You don’t have to worry about me, you know.”

The interaction with Drake had been bugging me and I wasn’t sure why. Jamie had ignored me for so long, and then suddenly just showed up and wanted to play protector?

Jamie lifted his warm gaze, his brows knitting as if he wasn’t sure what I was talking about.

“You barely speak to me. You were gone for three months without a word. Now, you’re back and you’re suddenly worried who I spend my time with?” I lifted my brow right back, silently encouraging him to explain.

The teacher hadn’t arrived yet, but there were a few girls turning to look at Jamie. I wanted to snap at them to leave him alone.

The feeling of his hand touching my hair was like a phantom touch that I couldn’t get out of my head.

Jamie tapped his pencil a few times before leaning closer to me.

“We rode to California, spent some time at a really big rally with a larger club over there. The West Coast has a lot of prominent clubs that sort of set the standard for those of us who aren’t exactly law abiding.”

“You rode your own bike the whole time?” He was only sixteen, and that seemed like such a long trip.

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