Biker's Bride (Demons MC)

I had been with my fair share of guys, but I’d had very few serious, long-term boyfriends. My longest was a year, but just barely, and that didn’t end well. I didn’t know what I wanted most of the time. People often thought my indecision was flightiness, but really I was looking for something I was sure of. I was tired of settling for men who didn’t move me and make me bend in every way in my need for them. I was sick of finding the “good enough” and the “close but not quite.” I wanted the all-out, the man who I wanted to lay in bed with for days mainlining his body like a drug, unable to get enough. I wanted the love that didn’t fade, but changed into something more mature and powerful. Maybe I was finding that with Rex, or maybe his incredibly hot body distracted me from reality. I wasn’t sure, but I wanted to find out. If only he would let me. So far, our encounters were crystals of intimacy, glittery and flinty, but compressed. They shattered as soon as he disappeared again.

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Amy showed up at seven on the dot. She climbed out of Shane’s black town car, and I buzzed her up into my apartment. She was radiant as usual, her smile huge, her skin healthy, and I found myself feeling truly jealous for the first time since she started dating Shane. If that was what happened when you were in a fully-satisfying relationship, it was what I wanted, too.

I poured us two glasses of red wine and we collapsed on my couch in my living room slash bedroom slash kitchen.

“You’re probably not used to tiny apartments anymore,” I said, laughing.

“Actually, I still have my apartment.”

That surprised me. As far as I knew, she was living with Shane full-time. Was that an indication of a chink in the armor?

“Really? Why?”

She shrugged and sipped her drink. “I’m not sure, honestly. I guess I keep it out of habit. I go back maybe once every other week and make sure it hasn’t burned down.”

“Must be nice to have a one-bedroom walk-in closet.”

“Sure beats living in one.”

I laughed. “Hey, this is cozy, and all I could find on short notice.”

“I know. I actually like it, if I’m honest. I never was big on fancy space.”

I looked around. I liked my tiny apartment, too. I was used to cramped places, coming from New York. I could afford bigger and better, but the location was fantastic. I was comfortable there, even if it wasn’t the most high-end spot in the world. I had always been that way, finding what feels right and sticking with it. The hard part was always finding that right thing to begin with.

“How’s the wedding planning going?” I asked, changing the subject.

“It’s going pretty well.” She paused then sipped her drink. “Actually, it’s not happening.”

“What’s the matter? Are you okay?”

“Oh no,” Amy said quickly. “That came out wrong. I meant, the planning isn’t happening yet.”

I laughed. “I thought there was trouble in paradise.”

She shook her head. “No, things between Shane and me are great. It’s just that, planning a wedding with him is impossible. He wants something incredibly private, but that’s really limiting our choices. I think we’ll end up eloping.”

“Elope! That’d be awesome! Although, I would love to see a fancy Shane Green wedding.”

She sighed and leaned her head on my shoulder. “It’s a balancing game. I’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Yeah, kiddo, you will. And ask me for anything you need.”

She sat back up and downed her drink. “How’s your man, by the way?”

I was dreading that conversation. I didn’t want to talk to Amy about Rex because I knew she didn’t approve, but I also wanted to spill every detail. Like she said, it was a balancing game.

“I haven’t heard from him in a few days, actually.”

She got up and refilled her glass. “Why’s that?”

“I’m not sure. He got a call about some job during our last date, or whatever it was, then disappeared.” I knocked my drink back, trying to keep up.

“Think things are okay?”

I shook my head. “I really don’t know. He talked about not seeing me anymore because he thinks it’s too dangerous, but I thought I talked him out of that idea.”

“I just want you to be happy,” Amy said.

I stood up and joined her in the kitchen. I refilled my drink, and then held it up for a toast.

“Here’s to being happy.” Amy laughed, and we clinked glasses.

“So, what are you going to do if you don’t hear from him?” Amy asked.

I shrugged. “I really don’t know. I don’t want to be a psycho stalker, but I don’t want him to ditch out on me, either.”

“Yeah, I hear you. Please don’t turn into a psycho stalker.”

I laughed. “Maybe I’ll turn up at his apartment with a boom box playing sappy love songs until he comes out.”