Page 29 of Tank

“Seems last night turned into a girls’ night induction party for you. I was carrying you to your room but when you started looking like you were gonna be sick I brought you to my room. Bigger attached bathroom that I knew would be clean.” His eyes dart between mine, as if looking for signs of me being uncomfortable being brought to his room, but there are none. In fact, he can bring me in here anytime.

His woodsy man scent is everywhere in the room, enveloping me in what feels like safety and hope. Oh, that’s a good line. I’ll remember that for later.

“You with me?” Tank’s voice breaks through my thoughts, and his eyes dance as he tries not to laugh.

“Oh yeah. Totally. Was just, um-”

“An idea for your book, right?”

I beam at him. “Right. Exactly that. How did you know what I was thinking?”

“Let’s just say I used to love English class as a kid.”

“Well, aren’t you Mr. Full of Surprises! I would have guessed bunking out of school. Kissing behind the bike stands. Smoking in the bathrooms. Real bad boy stuff.” He rolls his eyes at what I picture young Tank to be like.

He rolls onto his back, his hands coming up behind his head and stares up at the ceiling. Well, I think that’s where he’s looking. I wouldn’t know. I’m too busy staring at the bulge of his biceps in this position. Moving my eyes to his profile I take note of his straight nose, pouty lips and long curly eyelashes that I spend a buttload of money trying to get. How unfair.

“I was a pretty geeky little kid. My parents were both in the army. I think I came along by accident. They were both career focused and I was dropped off to my grandfather’s pretty soon after I was born. He raised me.”

“Wait, did you ever see your parents?”

“Whenever they were stateside they’d stop by for dinner and things. Sometimes my dad would come watch a ball game or whatever. For the most part though, it was just me and gramps.”

I roll further onto my side, tuck my hands under my cheek and curl my legs in, giving Tank my full undivided attention. Something about this man tells me that he doesn’t often demand the limelight. The fact that he’s here, telling me about his childhood is something precious and I won’t take it for granted.

“Gramps made sure I did well in school. I was good at most subjects, but English was my favorite.”

“What did you like about it?”

“Stories. I liked the stories and how they can transport you to anywhere or anytime. I liked hearing about the characters andtheir journeys. What they’re going to do and if they’ll survive.” He shrugs a massive shoulder. A boulder of a shoulder. My fingers tingle, itching to touch the tanned skin, pulled tight over the boulder shoulder and marked with dark, swirling tattoos.

“I’ve not told anyone this, well, other than my gramps, but I like to write.” He coughs, clearing his throat. “Um, I like writing stories. It was relaxing when I was stationed overseas.” His cheeks pinken a little and he stares at the ceiling, almost trying to avoid my gaze.

“I love that! I would love to read some of your work.”

“Hell no! No way. They’re pretty shitty. I just like doing it to get out thoughts and things. Nothing like your novels.”

He lies stiff as a board, as if embarrassment or shyness has taken over his body. This huge man, probably dangerous to those who threaten him or his family, is shy of me. Mira Campbell, kooky writer lady who wears too much color and is too noisy and has no inner monologue. My hand finds itself landing gently on Tank’s cheek, turning his head to look at me.

“Writing my novels is me getting my thoughts out. Same as you.” The intensity of his gaze almost takes my breath away. Swallowing, I give him a wobbly smile, so as to not show him how affected I am by the feel of him beneath my palm, his eyes boring into my soul. “I would love to read your thoughts someday, Tank.”

“Tyson,” he rasps, leaning into my hand a little.

“Tyson.”

Chapter 8

Tank

“Ineed your help.”

Savage, Rhodie, Wire and Tav all look up from Mira’s books, where they’ve been studying them.

“Of course brother, need an extra driver at DBT? I’ve got the day off from bunny watch and I’ve already dropped the kids off at school so I’m free until school pickup,” Tav says, moving to stand.

“No, it’s ah, not work related.” I rub the back of my neck. What the fuck was I thinking?

“So, what is it related to?” Savage asks, eyeing me up, Mira’s book still open in his hand.

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