Gunnar A Motorcycle Club Romance - Nina Levine Page 0,71

I go back to the couch where Alexa tells me about some new make-up she’s discovered that she loves. Mason potters around in the kitchen, making his tacos, and comes and sits with us while he eats.

I wasn’t expecting him tonight and am not prepared for him. Last week was a hot mess and has left me a little bewildered about what we’re doing. I want him with every fibre of my being, but it feels all kinds of wrong to do what we’ve been doing. It’s not fair to him. But I can’t deny how good it is to know his touch again, to talk to him again, to have his eyes on me again.

“Did you speak to Mum today?” Alexa asks him after we finish talking about make-up.

“Yeah. I’m gonna spend the afternoon with her tomorrow,” he says.

“Dad’s home with her this week. Just so you know.”

Mason nods. “I know.” His words are as tense as his shoulders. There’s no love lost between Mason and his father. It was because of his dad that he walked away from everything his family and their wealth offer. He might still be close to his siblings, but he wants nothing to do with the Blaise power and money.

Alexa takes a long gulp of wine. “Promise me you won’t get into it with him. Not while Mum’s going through all this.”

He works his jaw. “I can’t guarantee anything. He wants to be a motherfucker, I’m gonna check him on it.”

Alexa shakes her head, looking exasperated with her brother. It’s an expression I’ve seen a lot of with these two. Alexa prefers to manage people in a subtle way; Mason is all in their face and unyielding. They love each other fiercely, but they piss each other off just as much. “I hope you have a son one day and he’s as frustrating as you are.”

The thought of Mason having a child that’s not mine makes me trip over my thoughts.

It physically hurts my chest.

When his eyes meet mine, filled with the same turmoil they held three nights ago after we kissed, I know he’s feeling it too.

He stands abruptly and walks into the kitchen. I don’t watch him, but I hear him in there. I hear the sound of a bottle or glass slamming down onto the kitchen counter, and then another one, and the sound of him unscrewing a lid and pouring liquid into a glass, and of him stalking back to the couch.

He brings a bottle of rum, placing it roughly on the coffee table between us.

He doesn’t look at me.

When he drains his glass of rum in two long gulps, I know he’s settling in to drink the entire bottle.

Mason’s hate is back, and I shudder to think where this night will end up.

24

Gunnar

Thank fuck I left an almost-full bottle of rum at Alexa’s the last time I had a drink with her. I fucking need it tonight.

It’s been three long fucking days of never-ending thoughts of Chelsea since she put her hands all over my tattoo and I fucking kissed her. It was that kiss that fucking did it. I might have kissed her, and fucked her, and tasted her before that night, but that kiss was different. It was fucking intimate and it’s fucking screwed with me. And now, after Alexa mentioned me having a son earlier, I’m sitting here fucking thinking about the fact the only woman I wanted to have a child with is a woman I can never have a child with. And I’m fucking pissed off again.

I’m halfway through my bottle of rum and it’s not coming close to easing my mood. Alexa and Chelsea have spent the last hour talking shit about make-up and music and TV shows and other bullshit I’m not fucking interested in, but I can’t bring myself to leave. Chelsea has that kind of pull, she always has, and I’m fucking incapable of walking away when I should.

“Alexa,” Chelsea says, poking her. “Are you falling asleep?”

“Ugh,” Alexa groans and wiggles on the couch so she’s lying on her side with her head on the armrest. “I so tired,” she mumbles while her eyes open and close lazily. “Can’t keep my eyes open.”

I’m surprised she’s lasted this long. She’s drunk most of the wine they’ve been sharing. Chelsea might have been drunk when I arrived, but she’s slowed down since, while Alexa kept going hard.

I move off the couch and scoop my sister into my arms. “Time for bed,”