chapter 16

I didn't know much about Wanda yet, but I did know he was gorgeous, when his arms wrapped around me when I was crying, I felt sheltered, he loved riding, and he had a soft spot for animals. So far, he had more going for him than men I thought would be my perfect match.

Wanda' hand coming to rest on top of mine lying against his stomach brings me out of my thoughts, and I feel that strange feeling in my chest again, the one that somehow makes me feel like I'm connected to him in a way that goes beyond this lifetime. When the bike starts to slow, I pull my face away from his back and look around, realizing we arrived at his clubhouse.

Earlier today, we dropped off Capone and his truck at his place, which was about ten minutes from my house. He lived in one of the newer apartment buildings in town. My friend Ken lives in the same building, so I know the kitchens are open, with granite and stainless steel, and the rooms are all large enough that you don't feel like you are in an apartment. When we arrived at his place, I declined going inside and waited near his bike. He took Capone inside and came back out a few minutes later with his helmet.

He told me he didn't have anything in mind for the day, just that he wanted to ride, and I was completely okay with that. The sun was out, and there was a nice breeze in the air. Plus, I liked the idea of being wrapped around him.

After an hour of riding around on the back country roads, he pulled over to a small white shack that was set up along the highway, the sign out front offering homemade frozen custard. We got off the bike, and he didn't get anything for himself, but ordered me a cone and stole occasional bites as we sat under an umbrella, eating and laughing. I had the best time with him; more fun than I've ever had with a guy I was interested in.

I've had three boyfriends. One was my high school boyfriend, the guy I gave my virginity to. He was sweet, but when I went to college, we lost contact. He still lives in town, but we don't speak. My second boyfriend was in college. He was a pre-med student who I realized was more interested in the image of having a girlfriend than actually having a girlfriend. We never even kissed, and truthfully, I think he may have been hiding his sexuality from his parents. Then there was my last boyfriend, Harvey. He was nice enough, but he was also boring…so boring that I could actually tell you what he would say before he'd say anything, and I never even bothered asking him what he wanted to do, because it was always the same.

Wanda…he's nothing like the men I've dated. None of them would ride a motorcycle, get a tattoo, or live a life where they picked up and move to another state because they liked the feel of a town they drove through. None of my exes made me feel as comfortable as Wanda did. None of them made me feel the way Wanda made me feel. Just one look from him had my skin feeling too hot and my belly dipping.

After we ate custard, he asked me if I wanted to go to a club party with him. I have been to parties, sure, but partying with bikers was not something I had ever done. But I hated the idea of missing out on time with him, so I agreed, and he dropped me off at home so I could get dressed. He came back an hour later to pick me up.

When I opened the door to my house, I found him on the other side wearing his normal black boots, a pair of jeans that look like they were washed one too many times, the cuffs and pockets fraying, and a black shirt that fits him like a second skin, with his cut over it. His hair looked like it always does, messy, and his green eyes grew darker as they made their way back up my body.

That one look shot a thrill through me. I did my hair big, like I did on our first date, but this time, instead of simple makeup, I went with smoky eyes and a light lip that made me feel like a vixen. I chose my blue jeans that were so dark they almost looked black. I cuffed the bottom and paired them with peep-toed booties and a simple tank and one of my big chunky necklaces that made the outfit look dressier than it actually was.

"You okay?" he asks, pulling me out of my thoughts as his hand runs over the top of my fingers, which are still wrapped around his waist.

"I'm good." I remove myself from him and get off the bike, looking around. I haven't been to this part of town in years, and I'm not really surprised that this is where they would have their biker headquarters. When I was in high school, this whole area was an industrial park. But over the years, the factories have shut down one-by-one, and the empty buildings have been put up for sale.

The outside of the building looks normal, with a large sign that offers 'Car, Motorcycle Repair and Parts'. Next to that is a short alley and another building. Without even looking, I know where we are going. There's a metal gate that has to be at least fifteen feet tall. It looks like something you would find on the set of Jurassic Park.

"It's okay," he says taking my hand and leading me toward the large double gate. On the other side, I can hear loud music and people yelling and laughing. I start to feel anxious the closer we get to joining them.