Page 44 of Odin
Willow blanches and, even though Zeppelin has turned into a pretty good guy who is far more sensitive and far less obnoxious since losing his brother and making Ginny his official old lady, I still want to punch him in the face just for making Willow’s smile falter. At least if I did it with my bad hand, he’d get mostly gauze to soften the blow.
“You want Vietnamese, we’ll order some up.” Raiden already has his phone out. “She and Odin were supposed to have dinner. He couldn’t make it, so she brought it to him.”
“Can we get spring rolls?” Atlas asks. “Like, an obscene amount?” The guy flashes his Hollywood beautiful smile around the room, aimed at no one in particular, but I’m sure we all feel the warmth of it.
“Yup. What else?”
“Steamed buns? Do they have those?” Preacher asks. “If not, just get pork chops.”
“And steak. Tons of steak.” Scythe does love a good steak, but then, don’t we all. The lights glisten off his shaved, fully tattooed head. “Rare. Barely cooked. Mooing.”
Raiden’s hands keep flying over his screen. “Anything specifically related to Vietnamese cuisine, or should I call a steakhouse?”
“I still want spring rolls,” Atlas pouts, crossing his arms like he’s five. “I’m not leaving until I get them, and if I’m late getting to Willa’s, she’ll ask why, and I’ll have to tell her, and then she’ll be sure to save up all the extra creepy dolls she finds at her next pick and hide them around here now and then. You never know when one of those haunted fuckers will crop up.”
There’s some general mumbling, and then Gunner gets the room back on track. “Noodles. Any and all of them. We’ll take one of everything.”
Guys call out after that, taking turns so that Raiden can write it down on his phone and so that they don’t have to shout over each other. While they’re eagerly compiling a list of enough food to probably shut that poor place down, I quietly move over to Willow and guide her to the kitchen.
“Please, sit,” Willow says softly, a note of worry causing her voice to waver. She sets the bag down on the table and pulls out a chair for me. “I’ll get some plates and cutlery.”
She doesn’t need me to tell her where it is. She moves around the kitchen efficiently, finding everything quickly.She sets the table for us, not stopping until she finds a bottle of water and sets it by my place.
She takes the chair opposite me, at the end of the table. It only feels weird to have the whole thing empty until she unpacks the bag and spreads those big containers out between us. They take up quite a bit of room and smell divine. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until broccoli with rich ginger scented beef, and a massive bowl of wonton soup swimming with vegetables and slices of meat are set out before me.
I’m clumsy with my hand and arm bandaged, and she gets that. She leaps out of her seat and fills up my plate and the bowl for me. Everything is still steaming hot despite the ride over.
She hovers near my chair, her hand clenched tightly at her side like she’s afraid that she’ll lift it and hover it over my face and down my bandaged side.
“I’m alright.” My voice is too gruff. Too thick. I don’t sound alright at all.
She stuns me by leaning in to graze my temple with a kiss before she dashes back to her chair. It’s a good thing, because I barely stop myself from cupping her face in my hands and bathing it with kisses.
When bad shit happens, or just close calls, you start thinking about your own mortality. Having her so close, smelling like coconuts and violets, a vision of loveliness… I’m just so glad that I’m here and that she is. That we’re both still here together, doing something as simple and mundane as eating dinner. I never did take the small things for granted, and I sure as fuck won’t start anytime soon either.
“I’m so sorry that I was running late, that I was hurrying, and that I dumped my bike like a total dumbass amateur and made you worry. You cooked for nothing. I wanted to call, but my phone was trapped underneath me. I should have texted to tell you I was on my way, but I was already late and didn’t want to waste a single second. I’m an idiot. You were probably so angry and worried, as you had every right to be.”
“Odin. No.” She reaches across the table, her fingertips grazing my bandaged one. I set my hand down by my plate without even realizing that I’d done it. She’s careful, just a whisper of a touch. “I was worried, but I thought that you must have got delayed, or had club business come up. I knew you weren’t just not going to show, and that you’d call as soon as you could. I was only upset when Tarynn called, but she made sure I understood that you were okay.”
“I should be more careful.”
“I always want you to take care, but I’m never going to tell you that you have to stop riding your bike. I know that it’s like air for you. How can you be a biker without a bike?”
She lets my hand go so that I can pick up my fork and try the food. It’s incredible, flavors exploding on my tongue. It’s not something I’d have ordered for myself, but I don’t often go out of my comfort zone. I have few pleasures in life and eating hasn’t been one of them. I love bikes, the shop, my club and my club brothers. Everything else just makes life sweeter, but it’s not something I have to have.
Is it a sad state of affairs that ginger beef and broccoli feels like a revelation? Or is it the fact that today could have been so much worse, and every breath I take now feels different?
“I don’t have a bike right now,” I say after swallowing, my voice so much rougher than usual. “I’ll have to borrow one or buy one until I can get it fixed. It’ll happen soon enough, though, because I’ve decided. I’m going to put an offer in on that shop.”
“Oh my gosh!” Willow’s eyes glow with excitement. In a world where most things have to be a competition to a whole lot of people, she has that rare talent for being able to be truly happy for another person.
I nod and pick up my spoon, ready to taste that soup. “I talked to Tyrant while I was at Archer’s, getting pebbles and gunk scraped out of my skin. Sometime between ointment and bandages, he agreed that it would be a good move for the club to expand. It would be smart to have a dedicated body shop separate from the mechanics area. He sees it the same way I do. No more choking on paint fumes and Bondo all day long, at least for the other guys. My bike will be my first project. It’s fine mechanically. Just not cosmetically.”
“I’m so happy for you.” She tempers her excitement. “Provided that the offer goes through.”
“If not, we’ll find another building. It still has that living area above. The offer still stands. It’s yours if you want it. It might take a little bit of time to get it whipped into shape, maybe a few weeks because it needs far more work than the shop does, but we could make it happen. In the meantime, I’ll make sure that you have everything you need at Crow’s so that you’re comfortable.”
I know just how little she wants me to have to provide for her. It’s not duty for me. I hope she can see that every time I bring it up. I’m not doing this because I have to, orbecause I think that it’s anywhere in her agenda to milk me for anything and all she can get.
