knew too well. I couldn’t stop caring. But no new people were getting into my heart.”
“I still don’t see the problem.”
“When Summer was born, I didn’t let myself care,” he says tenderly as if I’m too well fucked to get his point. “I gave her mom money, made sure she had a nice place to live, all the superficial stuff. Then, when I saw Kimberlee struggling, I didn’t step in because I didn’t want to be a fulltime dad. My heart wasn’t interested in caring about Summer. A kid meant a whole fuck-ton of worries and responsibility. I went so far in one direction to protect myself that I nearly lost my daughter. A million bad things could have happened because I left Kimberlee in charge of Summer. That was a wake-up call. I could either fuck over my kid like my parents did me or I had to let in new people. It wasn’t easy. I ditched Summer on my sisters and Topanga a lot in the beginning. I struggled to open myself up to her. I’m thankful every day that she doesn’t remember what a dick I was when she was little.”
Bronco strokes my belly while holding my gaze. “I don’t know why you closed yourself off years ago. But you can’t go overboard and take on the burden of everyone’s pain and regret. Or try to be perfect because you think you were flawed in the past. You should make smart choices, but don’t go from one extreme to the other.”
“I can’t control how I feel about you.”
“No, but you can accept that. And also, accept how you’ll feel bad shit about me too. Just like I couldn’t be Summer’s dad without feeling burdened. You have to accept some hardships, but I see you taking on the responsibility for what happened with Ramona. Or how you think you need to make things right for people you have no control over.”
Resting my hand on his, I admit, “I nearly died last year. It woke me up to how I was wasting my life. How I wasn’t doing right by Desi. That’s why I left Kenny and moved back to Shasta. I want to be a better person, but I don’t know what that means. My sister is a good person. She has close friends and won the heart of a man a million times better than Kenny. But she’s very emotional. Is that what makes a good person? Probably not, but I feel as if I’m trying to teach myself to be someone else.”
For a long time, Bronco studies me, and I wonder where his head went. Then he regains his focus. “You can’t be anyone except you. Opening my heart to Summer and then Sidonie and even my larger club family hasn’t changed who I am at my core. You need to be the version of you that’s you at your strongest rather than your weakest.”
“That sounds easy, but I can’t seem to get my footing.”
“It’s been a year, right?”
“A year and a half, I guess.”
Bronco again studies my face with too much intensity. “Do you want to tell me how you almost died or is that something best left unsaid?”
Looking at the ceiling rather than him, I admit, “We were always broke, so I worked every shift I could get at the club. This was another place, not where you and I met. Anyway, I took Adderall for years to keep me going,” I explain, still avoiding his gaze. “I ended up having a heart attack. I thought it was an anxiety attack actually. I passed out during a show and woke up to find out I’d nearly died.”
I force myself to look at him, but there’s no judgment in his gaze. He’s a man that lives in a crime-filled world. I’m sure my pill-popping is small time in his eyes.
“Why were you always broke if you worked so much?” he asks, watching me in that casually menacing way I notice sometimes.
“Kenny spent all our money.”
“And why didn’t you leave?”
Feeling awkward now, I try to cover my breasts with my arms. Bronco just slides them back to where they were.
“I already know what your tits look like. No reason to get shy now.”
Frowning, I want so badly to cover myself up. “That’s not why.”
“Is it because you feel guilty talking about your ex when you’re with your new guy?”
“Why would I feel guilty?”
“You were with him for a long time, right? Desi is nine. He’s her