shift as he fiddled with his phone, remembering the way they’d stood out and flexed as he’d kneaded dough in the open kitchen of Stella’s. How the flour had dusted his tattooed skin.
When he’d stood close to me, leaning against the wall of the bakery, he’d smelled a little like the tang of yeast, the crust of bread, a warm and comforting smell from the day’s work. And now, watching him, I wondered what it would be like to have him fold those arms around me. What would it feel like to lean against that broad chest as he held me close? What would he smell like after a ride like the one he’d just taken: sweat, oil, leather, a warm edge of fresh-baked bread?
The club was my safe place, despite the inherent dangers of being in a motorcycle club. The members were my family, and they protected me in a way that my real family had never done. But when I watched Logan and Blade, and Jonah and Maverick, I couldn’t help but feel a little twinge of jealousy. Not only did Logan and Jonah have the club, but they had partners, too. Protectors. Someone to lean on unconditionally.
I wanted that, even though I usually didn’t let myself think about it. I was so tired of facing the world alone.
But Dante didn’t seem interested in any of that. He had his club responsibilities, his bakery, and now the reparations with Hell’s Ankhor. His hands were full enough. And even if he was looking for someone, he could have anyone he wanted. Why would he waste his time with a kid like me? He’d basically have to hold my hand every step of the way. I’d never even done more than kiss anyone else. I’d be a pain in the ass—he’d be better off with a quick, easy lay, or someone as confident and experienced as he was.
God, I was wasting too much time thinking all these maudlin thoughts when I had a job to do. I steeled myself. “Hey, Dante.”
Dante glanced up from his phone, and that warm smile I’d already grown to anticipate spread across his face. “Hey, Kid. Ready to get this show on the road?”
“I am if you are,” I said a little teasingly, the way he seemed to like, just to see his eyes sparkle in reaction.
It surprised even me, but it also worked. He laughed as he tucked his phone into his pocket and stood up straight. “Lead the way.”
He tucked his hands in his pockets and waited for me to do just that. The silence between us wasn’t quite awkward, but it wasn’t quite comfortable either, even after our conversation at Stella’s. I didn’t want him to feel unwelcome, though—even though these classes were a reparative task, it was still intended to boost relations between our club. I didn’t want our rocky start to stand in the way of that.
And selfishly, I wanted him to talk to me more. I wanted him to want to talk to me. “We’re starting out in the basement today. Since it’s so hot out.”
“Sounds good,” he said, still smiling. He wasn’t making a move to walk toward the front door, clearly waiting for me to go first.
But I wanted just another minute alone. “So, uh. What kind of fighting style do you know?”
“Style?” Dante asked.
“Like, you know. Wrestling? Grappling? Or is your background more in, like… boxing?” I hadn’t thought about it, but as soon as I asked, anxiety flared up suddenly in my chest. God, I hoped it wasn’t boxing. That’d make this whole thing a lot harder. Why had I even brought that up?
“Muay Thai, actually,” Dante said.
I blinked in surprise. “Like—kickboxing?”
Dante raised one knee demonstratively, so he was balancing on one foot with loose fists raised by his face in a defensive stance. And that big smile was still on his face. It should’ve scared me, seeing him suddenly strike a fighting stance like that considering how often I’d been on the wrong side of it with my brothers, but it was so loose and playful, it only made me laugh.
“What?” he asked. “I don’t look the part?”
“I don’t know, I thought kickboxers were usually, uh…”
“Smaller?” Dante finished for me.
I shrugged, biting back a smile. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“My best friend, Tru, is the one who taught me,” Dante explained. He swung his gym bag over his shoulder. “He’s really good. Insanely fast. Strong, too. He started learning Muay Thai as a kid—that’s actually