Making the Cut (Sons of Templar MC 1)

“I can’t believe you never told me any of this Amy,” I scolded, feeling a little pissed, at her for not telling me, but mostly at myself for not noticing.

Amy looked genuinely regretful. “I’m sorry, Gwennie, I wanted to tell you, but I could hardly get my head around it myself. I couldn’t deal, then you got hurt and no way was I letting some stupid problem of mine take up any of your headspace. I wanted you focusing on getting better.”

Fuck. Another thing that bastard had fucked up. I wasn’t there for my friend when she needed me. That hurt. Tears threatened at the corners of my eyes, I looked to see a couple running down Amy’s cheeks.

“And Brock?” I was curious as to where he fit into this equation.

Amy’s expression turned from heartbroken to pissed in a millisecond, it was almost funny. She let out a frustrated groan.

“Brock is a prick.”

I raised my eyebrow. She rolled her eyes knowing I saw straight through her.

“Okay, I’m attracted to him. A lot. But he is so infuriating, we disagree about everything, he will never back down on anything. And he is such an alpha male it makes me sick.”

“But you like him,” I deduced.

Amy looked conflicted. “No.” She fiddled with the lace on her nightgown. “Maybe. Yes. Shit! I don’t know Gwen. I still have feelings for Tom, it’s not something I can just turn off. But Brock is under my skin and I can’t understand how I can even like him, Tom is so different.”

“We can’t choose who invades our head space,” I explained. “If that was the case, I’d be married to some moderately attractive banker with a boring life and a BMW.”

Amy snorted. “Yeah right, Gwen, you would go insane in like a minute.”

“Would not,” I argued.

Amy rolled her eyes at me. “Whatever, you can’t tell me you prefer anyone over Cade, he is smoking, and the way he looks at you makes me blush.” Her eyes went dreamy and she fanned herself jokingly.

“We are not talking about me at the moment. There has been far too much of that lately. You are going to finish telling me what’s going on with you and Brock.”

Amy sagged back onto the couch, covering her eyes with her hands.

“Well, nothing’s going on now. We’ve been dancing around each other ever since we met, the attraction unbelievable. I tried to stay away from him, then running into him the other day at Laura Maye’s bar we kind of argued then made up then argued again. Then after the club party we spent the whole weekend in bed.” She looked sheepish. “But I set things straight yesterday, planning on keeping away from him. Then last night I was smashed and horny, so he stayed. And this morning he started getting all intense talking about me being his ‘Old Lady’ whatever the fuck that entails.”

My eyes widened at this statement, maybe the men in the Son’s did move fast.

She caught my expression. “I know right? It’s like we screw a couple of times and bam, commitment. Fucked up. I would rather wear head to toe Versace for a week straight than be his ‘Old Lady’,” she scoffed.

“You said this to him?”

“A version of it.”

I couldn’t imagine Brock would’ve liked hearing that too much if he was anything like Cade.

“Did you mention anything about Tom?” I asked, deciding not to educate her on what a big deal the ‘Old Lady’ label was.

Amy looked at me like I’d grown another head. “Are you crazy? Fuck no. Why would I tell some guy who I kind of have some weird intense feelings for that I am still hung up on another guy who may or may not come back to this country alive? I just don’t know how to process this; how could I love one man and not be able to stop thinking about another? Even if most of the time I feel like poking him in the eye with a mascara wand.” The poor girl looked seriously troubled.

“I don’t know Ames, I wish I’d been able to be there for you throughout the Tom situation, but I can be here now. And I can tell you for a fact, the men around here are intense and seriously hot. And they have a way of getting into your head and your heart. But this is a conversation that is way too complicated to have without my old friend coffee. Let’s consume some of this heavenly drink and mull it over,” I instructed, squeezing her knee. “You have my support whatever you decide, don’t let fear stop you from exploring this thing with Brock.”

“When did you get to be such an expert?” Amy asked as we walked towards the kitchen and closer to the coffee that I needed to inject into my bloodstream.

“Didn’t say I was an expert, just making it up as I go along,” I confessed.

“Well that makes me feel shit loads better.”

“If this all turns to shit we could always run away together and buy a house in the Caribbean?” I suggested over my shoulder seriously.

After dissecting every piece of information I could get out of Amy, I showered and dressed to get ready for Cade picking me up and taking me out for brunch. Not that he would ever say the word ‘brunch’; I didn’t think his body would physically be able to produce the word. He managed to sneak out at some point during my discussion with Amy. That man had some serious stealth skills. I put the finishing touches on my outfit, my mind ticking over everything that Amy had told me. How could I be so wrapped in my own life that I didn’t realize my best friend was going through some serious inner turmoil? And not realizing she was in love with someone? Shit, I was officially the world’s worst best friend. I was so poisoned by Jimmy that I isolated myself, only seeing Amy a couple of times a week, and when I did see her, she spent most of her time trying to convince me to stay away from Jimmy. I was lucky that she had stuck by me, even after I had ignored her advice. I fiddled with my earring, trying to think if Amy had ever mentioned Tom before, I was pretty sure she hadn’t. I was curious and she hadn’t even told me his last name so I couldn’t Facebook stalk him.