Sinful Protector (Roughshod Rollers MC 2)

“It was just a one-night-stand,” I growl. “It’s nothing to get all worked up over.”

“I’m not the one getting worked up, here,” Grant points out. “You’re the one getting defensive.”

I snort. “Shut the fuck up. Look, it was nothing. She needed comfort, we both wanted sex, we slept together, I left this morning. No big deal.”

“Who are you trying to convince; you or me?” Grant teases.

I glare at him again. Damn it, he’s not going to let this go, now. Grant raises his hands in apparent surrender.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says. “It just surprised me, is all.” He pauses. “But, in all seriousness…why is the woman playing on your mind so much?”

I wish I could answer that question. She was beautiful, no doubt about it. She was also strong-willed and more than capable of going after what she wanted. She’s also very much out of my league.

So I just shrug. There’s no reason for me to constantly be thinking about this. The night is over now, and we’ve both gone back to our regular lives.

“It was just one night,” I repeat.

“Yeah, but you normally don’t get like this over one night,” Grant points out. “Is it because you didn’t pick her up at the bar?” He quirks an eyebrow at me. “Or is this about your big macho protective thing that you have going on?”

“What?” I ask, startled. “What big macho protective thing?”

“You, my friend, have a tendency to stick your nose in where it doesn’t belong, and you’re a sucker for protecting others,” Grant says, shrugging. “It’s why you’ll never get along with Tom. It’s not a bad thing, but maybe you’ve seen this woman as someone you want to protect, and that’s why you can’t get her out of her head.”

I want to protest. It sounds absolutely ridiculous. But then I remember the fear in Allison’s eyes as Jesse advanced on her, the fear that had spurred me to act in the first place.

“You make it sound like I get a fucking rush from saving people,” I say gruffly, looking into my beer.

“Don’t you?” Grant grins. “Don’t worry about it so much, Kyle. Besides, I’m sure Allison was grateful.”

Was she? I vaguely remember her thanking me for both the help and for punching the ex.

What did any of it matter, anyway? I helped Allison, we wound up tumbling into bed because we were both a little drunk and very stupid, and now we’ve parted ways. She’s probably forgotten all about last night by now.

I take another long sip of my beer, wondering why that thought irritates me.

“Are you going to call her?” Grant asks with a smile, teasing again now.

I shoot him a glare. “I don’t have her fucking number.”

“Really?” Grant asks. He laughs. “Well, you know where she lives, you could always just knock on her door…”

“No, thanks,” I snap. “I’m not going to be that psycho who chases a woman after having sex with her once. Just leave it, Grant. Sorry I said anything in the first place.”

I don’t know why I’m suddenly so angry. Grant stares at me, frowning in thought, and I hunch my shoulders slightly before draining the rest of my beer. Then the bartender smiles and nods.

“Whatever works for you,” he says cheerfully. “Any plans for the night?”

“Getting drunk,” I say, pointedly sliding my empty mug over to him.

“Sure, as long as you order something to eat, too,” Grant laughs. “Want some hot fries?”

I want to say no. But my stomach rumbles before I can and I scowl.

“Fine,” I say with a huff.

Grant laughs and goes out the back, presumably to put some fries in the fryer. I huff and prop my head on my hand. Somehow, it feels like it’s going to be a long night.

Chapter Seven