Page 40 of Pit Stop

“Want to go play some pool?” he asks after a long, stilted moment.

I nod eagerly, happy that we’re no longer talking about how weak and lonely I am. We walk to a pool table currently being used by a few bikers and wait our turn. Tater makes easy conversation with everyone in his vicinity, which tells me that if I did decide to use him for my next heat, it wouldn’t be a bad thing. He seems like a genuinely nice guy.

And he doesn’t seem to know Maverick. Or at least they’re not close, so I wouldn’t be interfering with anything. I’d hate to be the one who ruined friendships. I’ve already managed to strain the one he has with my brother.

I hate that I’ve been reduced to this—a person searching for someone to fuck me out of obligation and not because they actually want to.

I honestly have no idea if Maverick even wanted to fuck me while I was in heat. He probably felt obligated to since his cock and his pheromones were the ones that put me in overdrive.

“We’re up,” Tater says, pulling my mind from my spiraling thoughts.

“Great,” I manage to squeak out.

Tater doesn’t seem to notice, just hands me a pool stick and starts arranging the balls. The men who were playing earlier linger, chatting with one another and Tater, but not with me. I feel so out of place.

I should never have gotten on the back of Maverick’s bike and let him bring me here. Did he do it so that I’d see the cute guy he’s with? Is he sending me hidden messages? Is he trying to hint that he’s not into me?

I don’t fucking know. It all messes with my mind and I play horribly.

One of the guys pushes off the wall, his boots hitting the floor next to where I’m standing and he gestures to me.

“Let me show you how it’s done.”

I hand him the stick, but he just shakes his head and spins me around so I’m facing the table.

Tater chuckles and a few of the guys lingering do the same. My face flames as he bends me forward, leaning against my back as he does. He envelops me, his alpha scent wafting up to me. But it’s not right. It’s all wrong.

Suddenly, the man moves away from me, and I glance over my shoulder. Maverick is there, his face set in a frown.

“I think it’s time to go.”

I glance at the twink sidling up next to him and feel my cheeks heat. He can’t just tell me what to do, not when he has a sidepiece.

“Can I speak to you?” I say, pointing at the door and then adding, “Alone.”

Maverick nods and moves toward me, growling slightly as he moves past the men in my vicinity, his muscles flexing as he brushes past Tater.

Gods, this man.

When we step outside, it has started to drizzle but I barely notice it as I face off with him.

“Maverick, honestly, you have to let me be.”

He huffs and turns his gaze away. “I don’t fucking like it.”

“I know, but you told me we couldn’t do anything again. I get it. I do. But when I try to make friends…”

“They don’t want to be friends.”

“I know, but my next heat is coming up and I need fucking options, Mav. But I can’t have those if you keep interfering!”

It comes out as a shout, and Maverick has the decency to look guilty.

“And plus, you shouldn’t even fucking care. You have someone. Apparently.”

Maverick frowns. “Owen isn’t anything to me.”

I grumble under my breath. “Sure seems like it.”

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