The Biker and the Loner (Oil and Water #3)- S. Ann Cole Page 0,21

in your head."

Witch. How does she know that? "I'm not!"

"Uh-huh. Well, I know what I want to do right now, with my man, and it doesn’t include you or Scratch. So, I'm out. I’ll hit you up in the morning to hear all about your date. Byeeee!"

Before I can respond to that, she ends the video call.

Ugh. Of all people, I thought she would be the one warning me off Scratch, not shoving me straight into his arms. I mean, does she even care about me at all?!

True, it is possible that Scratch has changed for the better, but I don't want to be the one to find out if that’s true or not. I’d rather wait another year, maybe two. Stand on the sidelines and see how things play out. If the pain of heartbreak is anything like the pain of losing my father, then I don’t want to experience it. I don’t ever want to feel like that again. And the chances of experiencing a heartbreak with Scratch are high.

Yet even as these thoughts are running through my head, I’m off the bed and in my closet, throwing an outfit together. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.

My brain knows better, it argues that my heart is too emotional. While my heart argues that my brain is too logical.

But my body…my body is on a mission all on its own. It wants Scratch. Desperately. And it's not about to let my brain or my heart get in its way.

~

I crack open the door to Kathy's bedroom and peek inside.

She's fast asleep on top of the covers. Naked. Always naked.

I control her sleeping hours with some really strong sleeping pills. That’s how I'm able to go out at night without her knowing. On nights that I plan on going out, I crush more than the recommended dosage of hypnotics into her favorite peppermint tea, and in fifteen minutes, she's like a lamp.

It’s not always successful—this is how I know when it’s time to change the drug.

I hadn’t planned on going out tonight, but I also didn't want her to overhear me talking to Kendra about Scratch, so I'd gone ahead and drugged her tea anyway.

Good thing, too. Considering Scratch is now outside waiting for me.

It took me a hurried twenty-one minutes to don an acid-washed jean shorts, a red halter-top cropped above my navel, and my favorite leather jacket paired with leather ankle boots.

Pulling her door closed, I skip downstairs and out of the house, both nervous and excited to see this impossible man.

Our home is huge, with large gardens, fishponds, tiered water fountains and all, so it's a solid two-minute walk from my front door to the front gates, beyond which Scratch’s Harley rumbles in wait.

He's leaned forward with his forearms on the handles, watching me approach. I both love and hate how I tingle all over when his eyes are on me.

He molests me with his hot stare as I unlock the side gate and close it behind me. And when I’m close to the motorcycle, he reaches out to grab me and reels me in, a tiny gasp fleeing me. He smells fresh and clean; a faint undertone of bathing soap mixed with the scent of pure male.

"You don't know how to call your man and check how he’s doing?" he demands. "You forgot my number or something?"

"You're not my man," I point out.

"You think if you keep saying that it'll somehow make it true?"

I play with the edges of his jacket. "I told Kendra."

"Yeah?"

"She thinks you may have changed from..."

"From?"

Ugh. I feel like an asshole for saying it, but..."From the sleep-around, slutscum that you were before you left."

He snorts, his expression giving nothing away. "She does, huh?"

I trace my finger around the snakehead emblem on his jacket. "So... Are you?"

He chucks my chin. "Guess you'll have to jump all in with me and see." He lets go of me. "Get on. The movie starts in fifteen minutes."

"Movie?”

"Yeah. It's Drive-In night."

Oh, right, I forgot about Drive-In night. Den of Heathens has a Drive-In outing on the last Thursday of each month, where the bikers and their women all ride to a Drive-In and watch whatever’s showing that night. Alcohol, blankets, cuddles and kisses for the couples, and bawdy jokes for the singles.

I’d only gone once before deciding that Drive-In night was more for the couples than for the singles. That one time I went, all the singles left early. We felt left out.

But I

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