Page 18 of Wild Side
So much more.
I’m also pretty sure that as soon as I tell him why I’m here, he won’t want me anymore. I’m not a fool. I know how these men work. The way I see this going, he’s going to pat me on the head, offer to put me up in an apartment, and tell the club I’m his old lady. But they’ll never see me again, not unless I go down there looking for him. I’ll be his old lady in name, but he’ll never look at me again.
I’ll be an obligation.
I don’t want to be that. I never wanted to be that. I was going to work my little post office job and maybe find someone in town to love. I was never going to be in this situation. I don’t think my dad ever wanted me to be part of it, either. He never said as much, but the expectations he had, the way he kept me away from the clubhouse, did his talking.
But here I am anyway, so it didn’t count for much, I guess.
“Hey, Maverick,” I say, as I reach for my panties and shorts before I tug them back up my legs, then button them.
He reaches out, his palm cupping my cheek, and I fight closing my eyes and leaning into him. He leans down slightly, his gaze focused on mine. He doesn’t look away. His attention is on me and only me.
“How the fuck did you get here, babe?”
If he only knew. I open my mouth to tell him, but before I can say anything, a voice calls out his name. Maverick turns his head, jerking his chin once. “Goose,” he calls out.
Slowly, I turn to look, following his gaze. I see a man standing a few feet away. It’s the man from earlier. The one who looks exactly like Maverick.
“See you found the girl waiting outside for you,” he says with a laugh.
I have no doubt he watched everything. Maybe that should embarrass me, but it doesn’t. It’s not like I’m overly experienced or am an exhibitionist or anything, but I just can’t seem tobe bothered when it comes to anything that happens with Maverick.
There is something about him. It feels right, no matter where we are. As long as we’re together, it seems right—anything and everything we do.
“Yeah, I did. I’m fuckin’ beat, though,” Maverick says before he slings his arm around my shoulders and pulls me against his side.
The other man, Goose, clears his throat, though he doesn’t make a motion to move toward us. He watches us. “You gonna introduce me?” he asks.
He sounds like an asshole. I can tell just by the tone in his voice. Holy fucking shit, what an asshole. I don’t say that, though. Instead, I flick my gaze down to my shoes and wonder what I was thinking when I got dressed for this. White tennis shoes, dark-blue shorts, and a white T-shirt that is cropped right at my waist.
Maverick takes a step forward, jostling me against his side. “This is Zadie,” he says. “You remember her from the Vicious Reapers clubhouse in Rivara, yeah?”
Goose blinks, his gaze flying to mine as he takes me in. Then his lips curve up into a grin, and he shifts his attention from me to the Jeep.
“Your friend here?” he asks, his lips twitching into a smirk.
He’s looking for Sable, which, to be honest, doesn’t surprise me. Not only is she much wilder than I am, but she also told me what they did together. No doubt he’s looking for more of that.
“She stayed home,” I say.
He jerks his chin, turns his head to look back at the clubhouse, then shifts his gaze back to Maverick.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Not tonight,” Maverick murmurs. “Not Zadie.”
They’re speaking to one another in a code that I don’t quite understand, and honestly, I’m okay with that. I don’t know if I want to understand, if I care to understand. I’m not here for Goose. I’m not here for the Vicious Reapers. I’m here for Maverick.
Goose shakes his head once but doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he spins around and walks away from me, from us. I feel Maverick’s lips on the top of my head.
“C’mon, Zade,” he rasps as he pulls me close again, and we walk together toward the front of the clubhouse.
I want to ask him what it means, what Goose was talking about. What is going to happen to me when I walk through those doors? But at the same time, I want to pretend that this is nothing but fun, a good time, and I want to be with him so damn bad that I’m willing to just… pretend.
That’s all it would be, though—pretending.
The truth is going to have to come out sooner rather than later. I’m not going to be able to hide it for longer than a few more weeks. Before we walk into the clubhouse, my feet stop, which forces Maverick to stop as well.
