Page 2 of My Dream

Mark hesitated, his gaze darting back to Yarder, who gave him a curt nod.

“Now,” Clay barked, his impatience flaring.

God, he was still the same arrogant asshole he’d always been. How had I not seen it when we were together? I was going tomarrythat man.

I was an idiot.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Mark muttered, motioning over his shoulder. “Let me just grab my keys.”

Clay scanned the clubhouse one last time, and I could tell he silently judged every inch of it. This place was the polar opposite of his world. He was a bougie dickhead, always had been. An MC clubhouse was not his scene.

“We’ll meet you outside,” Clay called over his shoulder.

He and Drew left, the heavy door slamming shut behind them.

For a moment, the room was deathly quiet.

Yarder turned to me, his dark eyes narrowing. “You’re just full of surprises, Fallon. How the hell do you know that prick?”

I wrinkled my nose, and disgust curled in my chest. “I’d really like not to think about him, let alone talk about him.”

Mark reappeared with his keys and looked uncomfortable. “Uh, I’ll pack up my stuff after I show Clay and Drew their place.”

“Why?” Yarder asked, his tone sharp.

Mark shuffled his feet. “I just figured...”

Yarder shook his head. “You’re fine staying where you are. It’s safer.”

“And Clay and Drew?” Mark asked, his voice tinged with hesitation.

Yarder scoffed. “They can stay at the Tripod. I’ve got no interest in keeping either of them safe.”

Mark nodded quickly, and relief flashed across his face. “Well, thank you.”

He slipped out the door and left the rest of us in tense silence.

“Church,” Yarder barked, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. He pointed at me. “You, too.”

My stomach sank. Oh, boy.

Chapter Two

Compass

The hits just fucking kept coming. We thought we had a few days of peace before the circus of filming started back up. Instead, we got this joker barging into the clubhouse like he had a deed to the place. And the icing on the shit cake? He looked to be Fallon’s ex.

Fuck me running.

Yarder dropped into his chair at the head of the table with all the grace of a pissed-off bear. I took my spot to his right in the seat that practically had my name engraved on it by now. The rest of the guys shuffled in one by one and filled the room with chairs scraping against the concrete floor.

Before anyone could settle, Fallon hovered in the doorway to church and looked hesitant and nosy. “Uh, is there somewhere you’d like me to sit?” She pointed over her shoulder. “Or, I could just head back to hang out with the ol’ ladies if you want.”

Yarder grunted and waved a hand like she was an annoying fly. “Compass can pull up a chair next to him.”

Apparently, I wasn’t just her designated babysitter, but also now her little bitch to get her chair. Yarder gave me a look that could’ve cut glass, silently ordering me to make it happen.

“Jesus,” I muttered under my breath. As if dealing with Fallon’s sass wasn’t enough, now I had to fetch her a chair like she didn’t have two working legs. But orders were orders. I stood, grabbed a chair from against the wall, and plopped it down between Cue Ball and me. “Sit.”

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