for you? I’ve gotten pretty good at it.”
“No thanks. I’m growing it out. Women like long hair, right? Like Devlin’s?”
“Ah, yeah, I guess,” I agree, withholding the fact that my brother is too much of a dork to ever look good with long hair. It works for Devlin because of his wild, bad boy personality. And his handsome face…
I should really stop thinking about him. But later that night, when I’m back in my bedroom, I can’t resist calling Devlin like my fingers have been itching to all day since I saw his apology plane message.
“I was hoping you would’ve called sooner,” he says as soon as he answers.
“Yeah, well I was at work,” I tell him with a smile.
“Fair enough. So I take it you saw the plane?”
“I saw the plane, and I really don’t want to know how much money you wasted on that sign.”
“It was nothing. Pilot dude owed me a favor,” he says. I roll my eyes, totally not buying it. “So what’s up? Is your hair still blonde?”
“Ah, yeah it is,” I reply, thinking that’s a strange question for him to ask. “More fitting for the lifeguard image than purple.”
“So you dyed your hair purple just for the concert?”
“Yeah. Why?” I ask.
“Nothing,” he says. “It’s cool. I like that you change it, like you’re a human chameleon but still the same person.”
“Exactly,” I reply. I’ve always thought it was fun to look different, and hair is one of the easiest things to change. Just making it a different color has a positive effect on my self-esteem. It’s why I wanted to style hair for a living, to give other people that same feeling. But now I’ve gotten off point. “So, listen,” I start, getting to the reason I’m calling. “I’ve decided that I will consider forgiving you if you can help me with something.”
“Name it,” Dev says eagerly.
“Do you, by chance, have any proof that my brother has been gambling?”
“Not at the moment, but I could probably get you some. Why?” he asks.
“Because Sean is still denying everything. He says he just asked the Dirty Aces for a loan. I want to believe him, but you’re right, there’s no reason for you to lie to me.”
“Right,” he agrees. “I’ll talk to our president and see what I can find out.”
“The president?” I repeat in confusion.
“Of the MC, not the United States,” he clarifies with a chuckle. “Malcolm Hyde keeps all of the surveillance footage and shit for the club and our businesses on the cloud. If there’s evidence, he’ll know where to find it for you.”
“Okay, thanks,” I tell him. “And, ah, thanks for all the trouble you went to for the plane. It was…sweet.”
“I was going for apologetic, but I’ll take sweet,” he jokes. “Want me to come over when I have your proof?”
“Yes, please,” I say, and Devlin chuckles again, making me squeeze my eyes shut with a cringe when I realize it sounds like I’m begging him to come over. “You know what I meant!”
“Yeah, I did,” he agrees. “And I’m making it my mission in life to have you begging for Devlin’s big dick again one of these days.”
“Keep wishing,” I joke, even though I’m so close to caving that it won’t take much for me to beg. “And please don’t ever refer to yourself in the third person. Only cool rock stars can get away with that.”
He chuckles again and says, “Deal. See you soon, baby,” before ending the call, making it impossible to not fall a little harder for him.
Devlin
“Hey, prez, you got a second?” I ask Malcolm when he returns to the clubhouse after our gambling boat docks late that night.
“Make it quick. I want to get home to my kid and ol’ lady,” he says as he comes to a stop next to his bike and crosses his arms over his chest.
“Sure,” I agree. “Do you have any videos of Sean James gambling?”
“Of course,” Malcolm says. “I keep videos of every night on the cruise in the cloud.”
“Good. When you get a chance, can you send me a few of them?”
“Why do you need them? Is that asshole trying to pretend like it didn’t happen, like he didn’t keep raising bets his ass couldn’t cover?”
“No, nothing like that,” I assure him. “It’s Jetta, his sister. She, ah, she wants to see proof since he’s been lying to her.”
“Still messing with the sister, huh, even though I told you that you shouldn’t?” he asks with his eyebrow arched.
“Something