Page 38 of Quadruplets for the Vipers

I can tell that Leah’s blaming my reluctance to take things further on herself. I’m sure she’s wondering if perhaps I am not attracted to her. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. Surely, she must realize that isn’t the case, else why would I join in at all?

It’s frustrating that I can’t simply tell Leah the truth, that it has nothing to do with her and everything to do with me, but how do I even begin to explain my feelings to her?

For now, the guys and I agree that Leah’s got her hands full as it is with the three of them. We’re all concerned about the baby and the strain on her body that all this sex could cause, especially if she has rough sex. Given my proclivities toward rougher, more risqué sex, it’s for the best that I steer well clear.

Besides, I can only imagine that I’m the pity fuck. The token extra, that nobody really wants to be there. Leah might want to sleep with me now, but the second she sees me naked, that would change. The thought of watching her try to hide her disgust at the sight of my disfigured body has held me back from joining in. I couldn’t bear it.

It seems the pregnancy hormones are making her entirely insatiable. Watching her give in completely has me fantasizing about all of the things I’d like to do to her if things were different. I imagine how she’d taste, and feel, how my name would sound on her lips, how her beautiful curves would look tied and bound, wrapped up like a present for me.

What can I say? Pregnancy suits her.

Whether it’s the pregnancy hormones or being with us, Leah’s acting like a whole new person. Her confidence has increased in spades, and not just in the bedroom. Since the night she and I got up and performed on stage, she’s been singing again. Listening to her is the highlight of my day. Every day when she comes to my room to ask if I want to jam with her, I can’t believe my luck that she wants to spend time with me. I look forward to those moments more than she could imagine. It gives me the perfect opportunity to spend time with her, to be in her presence, without the need for awkward small talk. We can simply enjoy music together.

The others and I have been encouraging her not only to perform at the Steel Vipers clubhouse but also in some other places. For the most part, I push her to perform alone, but occasionally she wears me down and I get up with her. For those brief moments, I feel like the old me again.

The other day, Leah was offered her first paid solo gig performing at the grand opening of a posh new restaurant in town. As it’s such an exclusive VIP night, she’s only allowed to take one person with her. The guys have been squabbling over who gets to accompany her ever since. I’ve not even dared to hope she might want me to go with her. Although we share a love of music, I’m hardly the first person you think of as being a dream date. I stand out like a sore thumb, and I’m the oppositeof a sparkling conversationalist. I wish Leah could have known me before the army.

“So, Leah, today is the day of the big gig. Have you finally made up your mind about which of us you want to take with you?” Knox asks as we sit down for breakfast.

She’s been struggling to make up her mind ever since she received the invite and the plus one. Typical Leah, she’s worrying about hurting our feelings and doesn’t want us to feel like she’s picking a favorite.

“Not you, dude, you’d scare half the patrons away,” Jace points out, poking Knox in the ribs, though it’s all in good fun. “They’d take one look at you and probably refuse you both entry. I can’t imagine there will be any other people with tattooed faces there.”

He’s not wrong. I’m pretty confident Knox knows this and won’t be upset if she doesn’t pick him because of that. It’s not exactly his scene, either. Plus, he’s such a wild card especially if he’s had a drink and I doubt she’d want to risk missing out on potential future work if he acts out.

“He’s got a point, there’s probably some kind of dress code,” she says, politely rebuffing him with an apologetic shrug.

Knox sighs theatrically, clutching his heart as if wounded, before laughing and winking. “No problem, babe. I wouldn’t want to distract from your big night.”

“Well then, that puts the other two out of the running, too. Axel stands out like a sore thumb, and Rider isn’t exactly a dazzling conversationalist,” Jace says. “Come on, Leah, you know that I’m the best choice. Put me in a suit and I’ll pass as one of them. Plus, I’m a mean dancer.”

Jace is right, he’s the most logical choice, and despite our previous joking and arguing over who should be my plus one, we all agree. The guys are also too kind to point out that my face is even more likely to result in them refusing us entry than Knox’s.

“I want Rider to come with me. If it wasn’t for him performing with me that first time, none of this would have happened.”

It takes me a moment to register what Leah’s just said.

Does she really want me to go with her, or is she just offering out of a misplaced sense of obligation?

“Are you sure? Jace is right, he’s the better choice.”

Despite trying to convince myself I didn’t even want to go, now that she’s invited me, I feel like the kid who never gets picked for the team being asked first. Bewildered, delighted, and mildly suspicious.

“Yes, I insist. So, will you come with me?” She looks up at me with wide, earnest eyes, as if she’s seeking my approval and acceptance, not the other way around.

I search her expression for any doubts, and seeing none, I nod in sheepish agreement. I feel a wave of relief that she doesn’t seem appalled by the prospect of spending the evening alone with me.

I silently process the new development, trying to remember where the hell I stored all my suits. It’s been so long since I’ve needed to wear one. I didn’t even need one for the funeral. The guys fall into easy banter as we eat breakfast. We’ve all got busy days ahead of us, so we finish quickly and go get ready.

These days, the war between the Steel Vipers and the Hellhounds is escalating, keeping us all occupied. It doesn’t help that the club is still leaderless, which makes everything take ten times longer. With the new president still undecided, the longstanding officers vote on all the decisions during church, but they never seem to agree on anything. We all think Axel just needs to take control and proclaim himself the new Prez. But he doesn’t want to rule by tyranny—the club is a democracy, and he wants to be elected fairly. Still, things can’t continue like this forever. If we have any hope of defeating the Hellhounds and ending this feud for good, we need to be united.

***

Work passes quickly, and before I know it, it’s time for me to go home and get ready for the evening.

After getting dressed, I’m standing uncomfortably in a suit, as I wait anxiously at the bottom of the stairs. The guys are all waiting with me, as eager to see Leah dressed up as I am.

I feel ridiculous, as though I’m trying to pretend to be Prince Charming when, in reality, I’m the beast. Despite my embarrassment, I’ve done my best to make myself look as presentable as possible. I had a fresh haircut, my short back and sides have been cut with military precision, and my beard is neatly trimmed. If only it weren’t for the huge, noticeable scar that slashes its way through my eye and across my cheek, I’d say I look good. If not handsome, then at least presentable.

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