Joker (Hell's Ankhor #8) - Aiden Bates Page 0,36

see you.”

“I…” I didn’t know what to say. My brain felt like it was working at about half-speed. I wanted to stop him, but he clearly didn’t want to stay. I was just so fucking confused. What did he want from me? “Okay. See you.”

At least he wanted to see me again. I guessed. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe this was the last interaction we’d have. I could never fucking tell with him.

He swallowed hard, but then gathered his things and rushed out the door before I could stop him. And I was left lying back on the couch, confused and overwhelmed and disappointed and honestly—hurt.

I should’ve known better than to mess around with a guy who clearly had his own shit to work through. I should’ve learned by now. With a sigh, I stood up from the couch, buttoned my jeans, and started cleaning up the kitchen.

13

Joker

“Have a good night,” I said to the patrons walking out the door as I wandered toward their now-empty table. Sunday nights were always slow at Ballast. I gathered up the pint glasses and plates, stacking them with practiced ease before I walked them back to the dish pit.

I was just floating around at Ballast tonight, helping where needed—Coop was tending bar, and Nix was on enforcement duty. Tex and Jazz were at the bar, as well as Siren and Star, all off duty. A few Elkin Lake citizens were here as well, having their own quiet conversations, including Dawson, alone at the end of the bar. I liked shifts like this, easy and relaxed. It hardly felt like work.

I poured another beer for Tex at his request and slid it across the bar. He nodded his thanks and touched the brim of his cowboy hat. “How’s the sign coming along, Joker?” Tex asked.

I shrugged. I thought it was coming along really well, honestly, but I was nervous about saying that. I didn’t want to jinx it, or get the club’s hopes up. Better to keep expectations low, so they’d be happy with whatever I managed to do.

“Pretty good,” I said. “Nothing fancy. But on schedule.”

“Ooh, a schedule,” Star said with a grin. “Getting serious.”

“Not my decision,” I said. I started polishing the already-clean glasses, just for something to do with my hands. “Brennan’s the professional, he’s got the whole schedule lined up to get all the renovations finished on time.”

“And you’re adhering to it,” Siren added. “Interesting.” She and Star shared a coy smile.

“What?” I shot back, starting to feel defensive. Of course I was following his schedule. “What else would I be doing?”

Jazz sipped his beer. “It’s just a little unlike your whole lone wolf image,” he said. “That’s all.”

“I’m not a lone wolf, I’m in a goddamned motorcycle club,” I said with a huff.

Jazz laughed. “Good point. So, how’s Brennan?” The curl to his lips made it clear he wasn’t just talking about our business relationship. Then, the other three matched his expression: all watching me with obvious interest. “If you know what I mean.”

I hated feeling like this—exposed and vulnerable under their gazes. I knew they meant it in a teasing, lighthearted way, but it wasn’t funny to me. This wasn’t just a low-stakes, bullshit relationship like my previous ones had been. But how was I supposed to explain that to them without admitting that I might actually have feelings for Brennan? I’d never hear the end of it. And how could I admit it to them when I could hardly admit it to myself?

“Ask him yourself,” I snapped. “I’m not his fuckin’ babysitter.”

“Ooh, hit a nerve,” Siren said.

“Yeah, wonder why,” Jazz said, wiggling his eyebrows again.

“Fuck off,” I muttered. The four of them were unperturbed by my attitude, but it was clear they weren’t going to ask again. Tex was visibly irritated, but he didn’t say anything. I turned away from the four of them to polish more glasses.

Fuck, I was doing it again. The same shit I’d been doing the entire time I’d known Brennan. Turning away. Running away. It was so fucking cowardly. But he kept catching me off guard, the same way my club members just had. I hated feeling exposed. Or out of control. Or just—surprised. And Brennan kept doing that, surprising me, getting under my defenses with so much ease it was like he wasn’t even trying. Like he kept accidentally finding all my weak points and poking.

And I wasn’t ready for that. Even if I wanted to open up to him, what was