Page 2 of Grave Games

“You okay?” she asked while I hustled out of the way. “That biker wasn’t mean to you, was he? I can switch tables with you if you really want me to.”

“No, no, everything’s cool, honest. But thanks for the offer.” Giving my friend a thoroughly fake smile, I tried to get my head out of the clouds and made my way back to Romeo’s table. “Okay, here we are—coffee, no cream and lots of kick. Hopefully that’ll keep you warm once you ride out of here on this snowy night.”

“It’s four degrees out there, even without windchill. No way is anyone riding in this shit, unless they’ve got it into their head they have to prove how tough they are. And how stupid.” Romeo pulled the cup close to wrap his hand around it, and his hand was so huge it almost did wrap all the way around the mug. “The question is, why are you already thinking about me leaving? I think I’m going to take that personally.”

Yikes. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“But you’re still thinking about me leaving. Sounds to me like I should take offense.”

“I…” Horrified, I studied his face—excellent bone structure, with beautiful cheekbones, a slightly crooked nose that spoke of a long-ago break that he’d survived, and gray-blue eyes that looked like a stormy sea. “I apologize, truly.Um, let me know if there’s anything else I can get you.”

“Yeah, there is. You can sit down for a sec and give me some of your time.”

Stupid heart. Why was it skipping all over the place? “It’s against policy to sit with customers during shift.”

“You might want to reconsider. I’m no Karen who’d complain to the manager about being insulted, but I’m not above making a scene with you at the center of it.”

Like that, my skippy heart turned to stone. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

“You surprise me,” I gritted out as anger bubbled to the surface. Grudgingly I sank onto the edge of the seat opposite him, not bothering to tamp down the heat in the glare I sent his way. “I thought all you big, bad bikers were so tough you don’t get offended by offhand comments. You must belong to, shall we say, a gentler kind of club.”

“Ooh, I think there was some spice behind those words.”

“Considering how fragile you are, snowflake, you should worry my spice is going to melt you right out of existence.” I couldn’t seem to stop gritting my teeth as I crossed my arms and gave him what I hoped was the world’s most disdainful stink-eye. “You wanted to talk? Talk.”

For just a second his eyes narrowed on me, and in that flash of time it seemed almost like he was calculating all the potential variables on how to get to some ultimate outcome. Then a half smile appeared along with anaw-shucksshake of the head, and the weird illusion that 3D chess was being played vanished.

“Look, I get it,” he said in a quiet, cajoling tone edged with a honey I was sure swayed many an unwary woman into his trap. “I’d be pissed off too if some asshole came in, threatening to upset my boss while I was just trying to earn a buck, so I promise I’m not going to jack you up here, okay?”

“I really need to check on your order,” I said the moment he stopped talking. If he had a brain in his head, he’d get that my bored tone indicated that as far as I was concerned he was dead to me. “So, if you’re finished—"

“I like you, Shy girl.” He looked me right in the eye as he spoke. It was one heck of a look, I’d give him that. Not much impressed me in this world—I’d been through too much—but I couldn’t deny my breath didn’t seem to want to leave my lungs while those sea-colored eyes locked me into place. “I can’t remember the last time a woman made me stop in my tracks and forget where the hell I was going or what I was doing. Then I saw you, andbam—fucking amnesia. All I could think about was you, working the evening shift at Buzzby’s Diner. The food’s good here, yeah, but it’s not so good it brings me back every damn day. You’re the only one who has that kind of power over me.”

“Wow.” The word whispered out of me before I even knew I wanted to say it, but it couldn’t be helped. When a hot guy—even a wannabe-biker hot guy—admitted you gave him amnesia,wowwas definitely an appropriate response. “I have to admit that as lines go, that’s a real corker. And I’ve heard them all.”

“I’ll bet you have, with your toffee-colored hair, grass-green eyes and knockout figure. Thing is, it’s not a line. I want to get to know you better, and I want you to get to know me.”

In an instant, a whirlwind of emotions roared through me, and that alone was shocking. Usually my emotions remained blissfully flat, to the point of nonexistent, thanks to the overload of trauma they’d suffered years ago. But now everything female inside of me abruptly awakened and blinked in bright-eyed attention. Get to know him? This man? Did I even want to do that?

Want. The word seemed to echo like a low moan through every part of me, shocking me into stillness.Want…

Okay, fine, I acknowledged while my skin prickled with an uncomfortable flush and the intimate flesh between my thighs ached and pulsed. This man was hot, with those deep-sea eyes and chocolate-brown hair just long enough to make my fingers itch to sift through it. And while he wasn’t an actual biker—something I would have hated in the worst way—it was clear he wasn’t afraid to walk on the wild side. Sexy looks and a weekend warrior’s love of danger was a tempting mix, but was that what I wanted?

The answer had to be no, because I’d stopped wanting any man a long time ago. That part of me was forever broken. In fact, the last time I checked in with myself, I just wanted to be left alone. I’d lost so much these past few years—my parents, my home, my brother, any sense of a future and even the belief in myself. There came a point in my life—a place probably calledrock-bottom—when it was a relief to realize I had nothing left to lose.

And there it was, the reason for my hesitation.

I’d almost lost track of how long I’d been numb. Blissfully, perfectly numb. Did I want to let myself care about Romeo, or anyone, when in the end caring about someone only led to pain and loss?

No.

No way was I going to open myself up to feeling anything, for anyone. Not yet. Maybe not ever. I just wanted to be left alone. Being alone meant you couldn’t be hurt by anyone, and I’d been hurt in every way possible by people I’d been stupid enough to trust.

Never again.

“This has been a nice chat.” With a calm I was nowhere near feeling, I pushed to my feet and offered a smile that I could feel cracking under the weight of the grief I carried inside like an anvil crushing my heart. “But I’m not in the market for any kind of relationship.”

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