Page 8 of Taken By the Biker Daddies

“Okay.”

She started walking off. Quickly. I knew I had managed not to prop up a tent in my pants, but she must have sensed my momentary lapse of self-control.

Fuck, Max. You better get a hold of yourself. She just got out of the hospital, remember?

And it was all because of me. I was supposed to be taking care of her and making her feel safe, not lusting after her like a stag in a rut.

“If you need anything, just let me know,” I told Lauren, making my voice louder so she could hear it. “And don’t worry about me. I’ve got everything I need right here.”

On second thought, I realized I didn’t.

I had my laptop, my phone, my earbuds and all my chargers in the living room, a blanket, and even a change of clothes, but I had left my pair of computer glasses in the drawer of my nightstand, and I needed it to read my flood of emails and their hefty attachments.

I headed to my room and knocked on the door. No one answered. I knocked again. When there was still no answer, I assumed that Lauren had fallen asleep, so I opened the door as quietly as I could. I was surprised to find Lauren awake, sitting on the edge of the bed facing the window.

“Lauren.”

She jumped to her feet, her phone nearly slipping from her fingers.

I put my hands up. “I’m sorry. I did knock. Twice.”

“Sorry. I was…” She wiped the corners of her eyes and sniffed. “I was watching something on my phone.”

Had she been crying? I wouldn’t be surprised. Losing one’s family was bad enough. Not even remembering them? It must be hell.

And it was my fault she had to go through it.

If only I had been going slower. If only I had seen her sooner and stopped in time.

“Did you need something?” Lauren’s voice broke up my guilty thoughts.

I cleared my throat. “I just needed to get something.”

“No problem.”

I walked over to the nightstand and pulled out the drawer, taking a maroon case from inside. As I closed the drawer, I saw the gold bracelet beside the clock. It definitely wasn’t mine.

“That’s a nice piece of jewelry. Did you have it on you during the accident?”

If so, I didn’t notice.

Lauren shrugged. “I guess. I…found it in the inside pocket of my jacket.”

I picked it up. “It looks valuable. The person who gave it to you must have really cared for you.”

It suddenly occurred to me that she might have a real boyfriend. Wouldn’t that be a problem?

“I doubt it.” She took it from my hand. “If you’re suggesting that I was cheating on you, I’m sure that wasn’t the case. I don’t even think this is mine.”

“You’re sure?”

I thought she’d lost her memories. Well, the doctor did say she could remember bits and pieces.

“It doesn’t fit me. See?” She clasped it on her wrist then put her hand down, the bracelet easily slipping off and falling to the floor.

Strangely, I felt relieved.

I picked the bracelet up. “Maybe it belongs to one of your friends.”

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