“Then go off and find your career. We’re all finished with school now, Max. There’s nothing holding you back.”
“I’m the son of a biker; getting work is proving to be harder than I thought.”
“Talk to your dad. He’ll hook you up.”
“Maybe. Anyway, what’s been happenin’ since you’ve moved in?”
I cross my legs. “Not much. Last night was interesting, being my first night. My roommate is cool—well, I’m guessing he is, but I’ve only met him once.”
“Him?”
I giggle. “Max, he’s a nerd who I can promise isn’t looking at me.”
“Everyone looks at you, Mouse.”
I snort. “Trust me, that’s not so.”
“Your dad know your roommate is a dude?”
“No, and he doesn’t need to.”
“Merc . . .”
“Max, please,” I say, cutting him off. “I’m twenty-one now. It’s not up to him what I do.”
“Your father is Spike. Seriously . . .”
I grunt. “Yeah, well, I moved here for a reason.”
Max mutters something, then says, “I gotta go. I’ll call you soon.”
“Later Max.”
“Later Mouse.”
I hang up the phone and glance around my apartment. It’s small, barely enough for two people, but it’s ours. My roommate, Taj, says he’s out a lot because he’s part of so many clubs. That’s cool, though I wouldn’t care if he was here. My room is on the opposite end of the apartment, so we’re far enough away from each other that we have our own space. The kitchen, living area and laundry room are all centered in the middle of the house, and we have to share a bathroom. That’ll probably get awkward at times.
I’m not complaining, though. Taj advertised he was looking for a roommate just as I was scouring to find a place off campus. I rang him, he liked me, and it worked out. Turns out Taj’s parents own this block of apartments that they lease to students, so he was able to pick his own roommate. I usually wouldn’t room with a male, but as soon as I saw him I knew Taj wasn’t a threat. He openly admitted to being gay and is as geeky as they come. He’s cute, in the ultimate-future-best-friend kind of way. He seems funny and sweet. I think we’ll work fine together.
I got a job at a café just down the road. It pays enough to cover my rent and utilities, but it doesn’t leave me a whole lot left over. I guess I’ll need to consider a second job down the track, but for now it works and allows me to have some semblance of freedom. I only work four days/nights a week, giving me the days off to attend classes. I’m not set on where I want my career to take me yet, but I’m slowly gathering some ideas.
I push off the sofa and walk into the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a frozen dinner. Taj said his parents give him money each week and he fills the freezer full of them, so I can help myself. I peel the plastic wrap off the macaroni cheese and shove it in the microwave. I contemplate the apartment as it cooks. It could be quite nice if we spruced it up a little.
The entire building is old, but it’s not unkempt. Taj’s parents have kept it in tidy condition. There are three blocks of five apartments, three on the ground floors, two on the top floors. The two top floor apartments are slightly bigger and more rent. Taj and I live in a top floor apartment. Each apartment is constructed with old red bricks and has a set of gold old-fashioned external stairs leading up to the top floor. They all open up onto a shared courtyard that boasts a gazebo, a garden and some grills.
The insides of the apartments are clean and tidy. Taj and mine boasts faded wooden floorboards, and an old dark blue kitchen with white counters. The bathroom is also blue, which will take a little time to get used to, it kind of burns my eyes every time I look at it. It has a bath, a shower, and an old sink. The toilet is separate. Another plus. The rooms are of decent size, each having their own built-in closet and window looking out onto the courtyard.
The apartments are furnished with the basics. We have an old pull-out sofa, a box-style television, a double bed each and an old dining set. Taj said he put some of his own stuff in, such as the counter stools, curtains, and desk in the far corner of the living room that has a computer set up on it. That computer is the only nice thing in this apartment.
I don’t care. I love this place.
“Hey!”
I jerk, and spin around to see Taj entering with two guys behind him. God, I didn’t even hear him come in. I was off in daydream land. I lift my hand and wave. “Hey Taj.”
“Guys, this is Mercedes, my new roommate,” Taj says, smiling at me. “Mercedes, this is Tim and Grant, my best friends.”
“Nice to meet you.” I smile at the two equally as nerdy friends.
They’re sweet.
Tim is tall and lanky with messy black hair and green eyes. He’s cute. Grant is short, on the plumper side, with blonde hair and green eyes. He looks the friendliest out of the two, considering he’s still smiling at me. Taj is without a doubt the better looking of the three. He has darker features; I’m guessing he has a touch of Asian in his line. His eyes are gently slanted and his skin is silky smooth and light olive. He has dark hair that’s messy and a lean, small frame. He wears glasses.
“I see you found the epic frozen dinners.” Taj smiles, coming into the kitchen and dumping the food he clearly just purchased, down.
“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind. I’d go out for food, but I don’t know where’s good.”
He waves a hand. “What’s mine is yours. If you need help, let me know. We’ll take you on a tour.”
“Really?” I beam. “That’d be great!”
“You start your first classes tomorrow, right?”
I nod. “Yep.”
“Nervous?”
“Nope.”
He laughs.
“We’re going to retreat to my room. Tell your dad thanks for the new locks.”
Taj didn’t meet my dad, but I did tell him he was the one who’d put the locks in. My flat mate would probably shit a brick if he met my father.
“I will. Enjoy your night.”
When they’re gone, I pull my dinner from the microwave and retreat to my room.
Yeah, this is going to be pretty awesome after all.
CHAPTER TWO
I blink.
Then blink again.
Yes, I’m definitely seeing it right. There is no way I’d forget that face. I shuffle the books in my arms to a more comfortable position and stare at the man walking towards me, friends trailing behind him, girls giggling as they walk by his side.
Diesel.
He’s on campus, which must mean he goes here. Diesel, the guy who kissed me and disappeared, the guy who has haunted my mind for the last few weeks, is here . . . at my college. My cheeks burn at the realization that I’m about to come face to face with him again. Nerves get the better of me and I look down as he nears. What if he says something? What if he laughs at me? God, what if he thinks I’m stalking him?
I look up just as he’s passing. His eyes flicker to mine and flicker back just as quickly. Everything inside me feels sucker-punched. He didn’t show even a second of recognition. He just looked at me as he would at any stranger he passed. God, the man kissed me, and he doesn’t even remember. I put my head down and hurry to class, horrified that I thought he’d remember.
“Hey Mercedes. Wait up!”
I stop and turn to see Taj running towards me, backpack flying and bouncing about behind him. He catches up to me¸ and I force a smile.
“What’s your first class?” he asks, puffed.
I show him my class list.
“Awesome. I’ll take you.”
Thank God, because I’m sure I was about to get lost.
I follow Taj down the long path bustling with students, past the gardens, and into the far building. We enter and walk down some halls until we find the classroom. When we step inside, I glance around. It’s a massive lecture hall, with seats starting on ground level and travell
ing up to a set of windows at the back. There’s a massive whiteboard at the front of the class with a desk.
“Here we are. You can sit with me.”
I walk in, holding my books close. I glance around and stop dead when I see Diesel sitting at a seat in the back row, two girls by his side. One is blond, stunning and looks like she owns the campus by the way she’s holding herself. The other is a brunette and pretty, but has nothing on her friend. I’m staring so hard at him I don’t realize we’re at the first step. I hit it with my foot and stumble. My books fly out of my arms and I go over, my hands hitting the floor. Laughter erupts throughout the classroom, and my cheeks burn as I lift my head and see Diesel looking at me, no expression on his face. The girls beside him are laughing.
Pig.
I push to my feet and Taj hands me my books. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” I whisper.
“Come on, let’s sit down.”
We find our seats and sit, and I don’t turn back and look, but I swear I can feel eyes burning into the back of my skull.
I want to curl up and disappear.
Great start to my first day.
~*~*~*~
The entire period seemed like it took forever. I could hardly concentrate with the sounds of giggling behind me. I’d glanced back once during the lesson to find Diesel staring at the front of the room, seemingly paying attention. The blond girl beside him latches on like she needed his air to breathe, and the brunette looked almost bored, as if she was there only because she had to be. Third wheel. Must suck.
“What’s up next?” Taj asks, drawing my attention back to the here and now.
“Biology,” I mumble, standing.
I go to take a step out but stop when I notice Diesel passing, girls by his side.
“Ah, hey,” I say, then inwardly face punch myself because I’m so damned stupid. Why the hell am I saying hello to him?
The blond girl stares daggers at me.
“Might wanna pay more attention to the step next time,” Diesel says, not giving me eye contact. The girls giggle.
“That’d be possible if I wasn’t so transfixed on staring at a giant dick,” I spit back.
He stops and turns to me, his eyes flashing with shock. What? Does he think I would just let him be an ass? Hell no. This girl was raised smarter than that.
“What’d you say to me?”
“Oh,” I say, stepping past him and his posse. “You heard me, handsome.”
Then I take Taj’s hand and we walk out.
“Oh. My. God!” he practically squeals when we get out into the hall. “That was freaking epic.”
“People like him shouldn’t get away with being dicks.”
“I agree, but damn, girl. You’re my new best friend. Hell, I’m fairly certain I want to be you when I grow up.”
I laugh. “Come on, let’s get to our next class.”
The rest of the day goes by quickly. I sit with Taj and his friends at lunch, and I’m in the last few afternoon classes alone. I miss Pru and Max like crazy. I’d give anything to have a really good girlfriend here. I guess in time I’ll make some, but right now I feel like a fish out of water. Still, I won’t let it bring me down.
When class finishes, I’m in a hurry to get out. I want to stop by the store on the way back to my apartment. I’m going to attempt to make dinner tonight. It’s within walking distance, so I stroll down the busy streets of Denver until I find a small store. Just as I’m about to go in, the low rumble of Harley Davidsons in the distance have my feet coming to a dead stop.
God, if my dad is following me . . .
I turn and stare, arms crossed, ready to give a piece of my mind but as they get closer I realize they’re not from my dad’s club. There are a good lot of them, probably fifteen or so, and they’re definitely bikers. I thought my dad’s club was the only club in or around this area, so it’s strange to see another group filling the streets.
They go past and I turn, glancing at their cuts. Joker’s Wrath MC. I’ve never heard of them, but I make a note to ask Dad who they are. They could just be passing through. That happens I’m sure. I mean technically, I guess they’re not in the same area, considering the Hell’s Knights compound is an hour or more out of the city.
Shrugging, I walk into the store and pick up a basket. I wander through the aisles, picking up what I need and a few things I don’t. My dad left me some cash to cover me until I get paid from my job, thank God, or I’d be eating Taj’s frozen meals for the next week. I finish getting what I need and head to the checkout. I catch a glimpse of a big, tall, freakishly massive biker standing at the checkout. My heart pounds. He’s from the group that just passed.
I’m not scared of bikers, but this guy is huge. He’s even bigger than my dad, and that’s saying something. I move closer and stand behind him, keeping enough distance so as not to draw attention to myself. I’m not paying a good deal of attention, because I don’t notice the giggling girls behind me until they start making fun of me. Hell, I didn’t even hear them come in. My cheeks flush pink as I try to ignore their taunts. They’re standing in line behind me, so it’s all very clear.
“He’s not here for you to trip over now. Poor Diesel; you should have felt his reaction when you were staring at him; he was all stiff and horrified. You should find someone else to chase; he’s spoken for.”
I ignore them, but notice the biker in front of me stiffens.
“He doesn’t play with little nerds like you.”
I grind my teeth.
Nerd. I’m not a damned nerd.
“I’m sure Taj would happily play with you, though. You seem like his kind. Don’t you think she’s his type, girls?”
My cheeks burn, and I keep my eyes trained on the biker’s back as he collects his change.
“Diesel has a type, love. You’re not it. I suggest you keep your eyes off him in class and everywhere, for that matter. Or you’ll have me to answer to.” That voice comes sassy and strong, and I know it’s the blond speaking.
Anger bubbles inside me, and I’m about to spin and give them a piece of my mind when the biker turns. I look up, way up, because he’s tall and huge. Built like Hercules. He looks down at me, and I gasp. My dad has some seriously good-looking guys in his club, but this man is out of this world. Light eyes surrounded by soft olive skin and stubble on his jaw. His hair is thick and messy, falling over his forehead. My eyes drop to his patch.
He’s not just a club member.
He’s the President.
I look back up at him and see he’s now looking at the girls, glaring like he wants to reach over and rip their heads off.
“You got a problem with my girl here, ladies?” he says, his voice a low rumble. The girls all stare at him, but when he speaks, their mouths drop open.
“Y-y-y-your girl?” the brunette stammers.
“Yeah, my niece.” He looks down at me, and my mouth is open now, too.
“Y-y-y-you’re her uncle?”
He steps up beside me, and I force myself to look away from his face so I can stare at the girls, who look from him to me, and back at him.
“No, we don’t have a problem,” Blondie says, her voice snippy. “We were only joking.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t like girls who joke. I don’t like girls who tease. I don’t like”—he steps around me and then leans down so his face is close to theirs—“girls who think their shit don’t stink.”
Their faces grow red.
I don’t move.
“So, you got a problem with my niece here, then you’ve got a problem with me.”
“No . . . we don’t have a p-p-problem with her,” Brunette babbles.
“Good, ’cause I hear you tauntin’ her like that again, or she tells me you’re pickin’ on her, I’ll be payin’ you a visit. You won’t like the outcome.”
“Y-y-y-yes sir.”
“Good.” His gaze flick back to me, and I meet and hold it. He studies my face and I study his. He’
s older, probably the same age as my dad. He doesn’t have a lot of gray but I can see the laughter lines on his face. “You okay?”
I nod, completely speechless.
He grins, making him even more beautiful, then he turns and strides off.
I watch him go, still standing dumbly. He just saved my ass. I don’t even know him, and he saved my ass. I drop my basket and rush after him. By the time I reach him he’s already outside, one leg thrown over his bike. All the bikers are behind him, but I don’t pay much attention as I run over. “Wait!”
He is about to pull his helmet on, but stops when he hears my call. I stop in front of him, panting. “I . . . I just . . . thank you for what you did in there.”
“What’s your name, honey?”
Gosh, he’s nice. “Mercedes.”
His mouth tips up a little at the sides. “Nice name. I’m Maddox.”
Maddox. Cool name.
I smile. “Well thanks, Maddox. I appreciate it.”
“Next time they stand there and give you shit, you turn around and give it back. Life’s too short to let assholes like that push you around.”
My smile gets bigger. “Yeah, you’re right, but even so, thank you. I’m . . . it’s my first week here, and that was the nicest thing that’s been done for me.”
I glance at the bikers lined up behind him. All of them stare at me, some with a mixture of shock and confusion. Probably because most people wouldn’t run up to a group of them, especially not to the President. I forget sometimes that they’re supposed to be scary to the rest of the world. To me, they’re the same as any people. They’re all I know.
“Hey.” I wave.
More shocked and confused glances.
“Sorry to, ah, interrupt your ride. I was just, well, thanking your prez here for, ah, helping me . . .” I’m rambling. Shit, I’m rambling.
“Prez?”
This comes from the man to Maddox’s left. I glance at him, and my breath hitches. Holy shit. He looks a lot like Diesel—same brown eyes, same beautiful olive skin, same black hair, same Native American heritage. I mean, of course he’s probably of no relation, but it’s crazy how alike the two are. The only difference is this man is leaner, his eyes slightly lighter, and he’s got long, braided hair. He sits on his bike in an unusual way, leaning it on the opposite leg to the rest. Like he’s hurt it somehow.