‘Yeah, okay. I hear you. But, again, what’s that got to do with us?’ Keep’s stare was sharp. ‘I know Cat’s important to you, but this isn’t club business. I got a whole lot of things going on now, and I don’t need any attention from the police. If the club gets involved with this...’

Frustration rose, but I swallowed it down, playing it cool. ‘I know all that. But we have to do something. That prick hurt Cat. And I’ll be damned if he does it again.’

Keep let out a breath. ‘She’s your friend—I get it. And the kid is cute. No doubt about it. But I’m saying no. We can’t afford the heat it would bring down. Not now.’

Fuck. If it had been anyone else, I would have let it go. But it wasn’t anyone else. It was Cat. And I hadn’t been able to protect her from Justin last time, which meant I was not going to fail again.

‘Keep,’ I said clearly, levelly. ‘I’ve never asked you for anything. Not one single fucking thing. Not even when that shit went down with Dad. But I’m asking you now. I need you to help Cat and Annie.’

Keep’s blue eyes turned cold. He was an easygoing guy on the surface, but that only went so far. There was a reason he was club president, and it wasn’t because he was a walkover.

‘No.’ His voice was very quiet. ‘That’s my final answer. I’m not saying it again.’

I knew that tone. It was his presidential do-not-fuck-with-me tone. No one argued with that—not if they liked their balls hanging where they were.

But I had a line, too. And Cat was it.

‘If they were ours, you would, right?’ A stupid question, since it should have gone without saying. I had to check, though.

‘You know I would. But they’re not.’

No, they weren’t.

Yet.

I leaned back in my chair, an idea going around and around in my head. Because that motherfucker Justin was not going to hurt her again. Over my dead fucking body.

Luckily, there was another option.

Unluckily, Cat was going to hate it.

There was only one way to make Cat and Annie part of the Knights, and that was for me to take her as my old lady.

I couldn’t deny that it was something I’d wanted for years—a secret fantasy that wouldn’t ever make it into reality since Cat didn’t feel that way about me. But, shit, we could fake it, couldn’t we? Make it look like we were together at least enough for the rest of the MC to believe it and protect her, if and when Grant came gunning for her.

Are you sure she doesn’t feel that way about you?

I blinked, the thought hitting me hard. Where the hell had that come from? Admittedly her behaviour last night had been weird—not looking me in the eye and getting all strange and tense when I got near her. Then, when I’d brought up the topic of that blow job, she’d blushed. Like she was the one embarrassed about it.

Still, discussing your best friend’s blow job would be pretty embarrassing for a chick.

So why did you put your hands in the pockets of her jeans?

I shifted uncomfortably in the chair.

Never in all the years we’ve been friends had I touched her like that. In fact I’d never made one single move on her, even though sometimes I wanted to so bad I was like a junkie in search of a fix. She was my friend. End of. Besides, I knew how she felt about MCs.

To say she wasn’t the Knights’ greatest fan was a severe understatement.

Anyway, I still didn’t know what had made me slide my hands into the back pockets of her jeans, feel the heat of her against my palms, pull her close. She was trying to avoid me and I simply wanted to hold her there so we could talk about it.

Yeah, sure. You fucking liar.

I shifted again, my palms stinging from the memory. Fuck, she’d felt hot. Then she’d put her hands on my chest and it was like I’d been plugged into a goddamn wall socket. She’d touched me plenty of times before and it had never felt like that—mainly because I’d trained myself to ignore my reactions around her.

She’d been blushing, too. Had touching me done something for her?

‘Jesus, Smoke,’ Keep muttered. ‘You got a problem or something? You’re shifting around like a two-year-old needing the potty.’