Harley (Cerberus MC)

“Everyone at the clubhouse stopped drinking around me.”

“They’re just trying to be supportive. They didn’t want to tempt you to hide your pain.”

I didn’t feel sheltered, even though I know that was their intent. I felt childlike, as if they couldn’t act normal around me. That may be why I kept pulling that damn gun out and laying it on the bedside table. Fighting the temptation to end the pain that was swallowing me whole made me feel like there was at least one part of my life I could control.

I want to tell my dad about those darkest days but I don’t want to see disappointment shining in his eyes. So I keep my mouth closed and lift the glass to my mouth. The whiskey burns as it scores a path down the back of my throat, but it has nothing on the pain I feel for the way Ali walked out of the house earlier.

Chapter 23

Alyssa

I went to bed in silence, and that’s exactly how I wake up. A full night’s sleep is so uncommon, it makes me jolt in bed, leaning my head to the side as if it will help me hear better. I’m met with the low hum of the air conditioner and nothing else.

I dress, bra and all since Harley is home, and quietly make my way out of the bedroom. I was going to stay the night at the clubhouse, but had Boomer drive past the house last night after we had dinner and spent some time sitting at the park. His parents’ rental car wasn’t in the driveway, and I made the decision to go ahead and stay here.

I’m regretting that decision now. I was still angry and hurt yesterday, but now that there are twelve hours and a good night’s sleep between me and what happened, I no longer have the urge to confront Harley. I feel like I got my point across before leaving and the subject should just be dropped.

Deep down, I also know that I regret walking away. Not only has my body voiced its negative opinion of not giving into what could have been, my head can’t keep from thinking about what it would be like getting intimate with him.

Sexual, not intimate. There wasn’t much care and consideration for my needs coming from him, but his own desperation for sinking inside of me would’ve probably been enough on its own.

I shake my head as I walk into the kitchen, surprised to see a full pot of coffee. I peek back around the edge of the kitchen, thinking I missed Harley sitting in the living room drinking coffee, but the room is empty. He must’ve remembered to set the timer before going to bed.

I pour a cup for myself, hoping I can consume it on the back porch and go back to my room before he wakes up.

I have no idea why my hand is shaking as I lift the carafe from the machine and fill my cup. Nervous energy lights me up, and I blame it on being a side effect of sleeping too much, refusing to let my mind wander back to the dreams I had last night. The real me might have walked away from Harley yesterday but dream me wasn’t so eager to get away.

I was quick to get away from him after his parents showed up, but I know I would’ve gone as far as we could go had we not been interrupted. I wouldn’t have put up a fight if his hands had gone to the zipper of my jeans. Hell, I was probably seconds away from reaching for it myself. I was desperate for him, needing everything he had to offer. I’d never been kissed with so much passion, never felt more wanted in my life. I never wanted it to end, and then a throat clearing made me regret it. The embarrassment swallowed the neediness in one gulp as if it never existed.

I’ll never be able to face those people again. My cheeks heat now, reliving it.

“Hey.”

I drop my head, curling my chin into my chest as all the hope I’d built up to go longer without having to see him disappears with one word.

“Morning,” I tell him without turning around.

“Can we talk about yesterday?”

“I’d rather not,” I mutter, desperate to get away before he tries to continue what he wanted yesterday. I’d never have the strength after those vivid dreams last night.

“I want to apologize for how I behaved.”

I cock an eyebrow, but my back is still to him, so he can’t see the look of surprise on my face. Apologies aren’t something Harley does. He might agree that he shouldn’t have done something or reacted a certain way, but there aren’t many I’m sorrys coming from his mouth.

“I wanted to thank you for walking away. Sleeping with you would’ve been a disaster.”