Page 41 of Collect the Pieces

I can’t stop thinking about what Shelby said. The guys might want to test me tonight—have me share an embarrassing story or detail about myself in front of everyone.

Not happening.

After dropping the clothes off on my bed, I return to my closet. This time, I go all the way into the back, past all my work clothes, shoe collection, jewelry, and special “ornaments,” to the small hidden door in the corner.

The latch sticks for a second before popping open. Inside, newspaper clippings and other…oddities I’ve collected over the years wait in the dark. I reach for one particular item and carefully wrap it inside a velvet sack.

I don’t know if I’ll have the guts to actually use it.

But if I do…

It’ll be the last time anyone tries to embarrass me at a party.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Jigsaw

The rideto Margot’s place is a hell of a lot different in my cage. The old 4Runner handles like a tank, stiff and bouncy over every crack in the road. Feels like I’m steering a cinder block on wheels. It’s survived years of New York winters, potholes the size of craters, and my general lack of giving a shit, so I should be thankful it’s running at all.

I made one of the prospects give it a thorough detailing, so it’s clean for my girl and she won’t be brushing road salt off of her jeans when she climbs in. It’s not classy enough for my pretty little lady death. But it wasn’t built for class—it was built for survival. Just like me.

Wind whistles through the driver’s side window, a reminder that the seal is barely hanging on. I should’ve fucking fixed that.

I tighten my grip on the wheel. Driving always makes me feel like a raccoon trapped in a giant dumpster. I’m more than ready to be out of this steel cage. Unfortunately, I’ve got at least another hour to go to get to Margot’s and then an hour back to the clubhouse. I might be out of my skull by the time we get there.

Nah, I’m taking my frustration out on my trusty old cage for no reason. Am I worried about officially introducing Margotto the club as my girlfriend? Is that what’s giving me the itch to claw my way through the windshield? I’ve never had an ol’ lady. Never specifically brought a woman to the clubhouse to introduce her asmine.

In fact, I’ve talked a lot of shit about never wanting an ol’ lady and how I relish variety in my bedmates. I’m more than willing to eat my words if my brothers want to razz my ass—I deserve it. But I’d rather not have them say that shit in front of Margot. It’s one thing formeto tell her I never did relationships before her. It’s totally different to have it confirmed in grotesque detail over and over by every member of my club…and probably a few bunnies too.

Fuck.

Hope said the party should be bunny-free.Please let her be the one who had final say over the guest list.

I glance over at the passenger seat. A small brown gift bag with a red and black plaid ribbon tied around the twine handles waits for Margot. I’ve never gotten a girl a gift before. Usually, my presence is enough of a gift. But I saw it and immediately thought of Margot.

Will she think it’s weird or too much?

Too soon?

No.It’s practical. Useful. She’ll like it.

Finally, her house comes into view. I tap the brakes, grimacing as the 4Runner dips forward too hard. Forgot how stiff the front suspension is. Instead of detailing it, I should’ve replaced the shocks.

The parking lot’s empty, so I stop right by the porch stairs. Before I even take the key out, Margot’s trotting down the steps with a hot-pink backpack that’s almost as big as her slung over her shoulder and a long, wide Tupperware container tucked under her arm.

I jump out of the truck and meet her at the bottom of the steps. “I’m more than happy to come to the door, you know.” I slide my fingers under the strap and pull her bag off her shoulder.

“Yes, but I’m eager to see you.” She hooks her arms around my neck and lifts on her tiptoes to press a warm kiss to my lips.

“I approve.” I curl my free arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “Do I really have you for the whole weekend?”

“Sure do. Paul promised not to let my dad call me for any reason.” The first hint of nervousness ripples over her face. She stands back and sweeps her hand over her outfit—sleek, dark jeans, dark green lace-up boots, and a green and blue flannel shirt—utterly fucking adorable. “I hope this is okay. I know I promised to wear something with easier access if you wanted to chase me through the woods.” The corners of her mouth curl into a hesitant smile. “But it’s supposed to be chilly.”

“Trust me, if I want to get those pants off, they’re gone.” I pinch the soft flannel material of her sleeve and rub it between my fingers. “You look perfect.”

“I talked to Shelby.” She ducks her head, almost shyly. “She said she was wearing jeans and a hoodie, so I thought this would be okay.”

Thank you, Shelby.I hadn’t even asked her to call Margot. “I’ve got a sweatshirt or two in the truck if you get cold.”

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