Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Boulder
I wake up before dawn, body alert even though I barely got any sleep.
Something feels different—there’s warmth pressed against my side.
For a split second, I think I'm dreaming.
Kelsey's still here.
In my fucking bed.
Her light brown hair is splayed across my pillow, her breathing soft and steady, one of her legs tangled with mine and an arm draped over my chest.
She's completely naked, the sheet barely covering her lower half, and I have a perfect view of her bare back, the subtle curve of her spine.
What in the actual fuck?
I never let women stay the night.
That's rule number one in the Boulder playbook—fuck 'em and get 'em out.
No overnight guests, no breakfast, no fucking cuddling.
It keeps things simple.
Keeps expectations clear.
Prevents anyone from getting ideas about where this is going.
Yet I didn't kick her out.
I actually fell asleep with her in my arms, and now it's morning, and I still haven't made any move to wake her up and send her on her way.
Something's wrong with me.
Has to be.
I study her in the dim light filtering through the blinds.
Her face looks different while she sleeps—younger, more peaceful.
The constant wariness I've seen in her eyes is gone, replaced by the kind of vulnerability that makes my chest tighten in a way I'm not comfortable with.
There's a small scar near her hairline that I didn't notice before, a tiny imperfection on otherwise flawless skin.
She's beautiful.
Not in the obvious, in-your-face way that usually catches my attention in bars, but in a quieter, more dangerous way.
I run my fingers lightly over the curve of her shoulder, across the smoothness of her back.
Her skin is warm beneath my touch, soft in a way that makes me want to feel more of it.
I can see the faint marks my mouth left on her neck last night, and something primal stirs in me at the sight.
My marks.
On her body.
The possessive thought catches me off guard.
What the hell is wrong with me?
She's just another hook-up.
A good lay, sure—actually, a fucking fantastic lay—but still just temporary.
She'll be gone soon, back to Montana, and I'll be here, focused on what matters: earning my patch, serving the club.
That's what I've worked for these past years.
That's what I gave up my old life for.
Not some brown-eyed girl with secrets in her eyes and a body that fits against mine like it was made for me.
Still, I can't deny there's something about Kelsey that gets under my skin.
Maybe it's the mystery—the black eye in Montana that she wouldn't explain, the way she guards her past, the flashes of vulnerability she tries so hard to hide.
Maybe it's the way she doesn't fall all over herself trying to impress me like most women do when they find out I'm with the club.
Or maybe it's just the sex.
Because holy shit, the sex is mind-blowing .
The memories of last night send heat coursing through my veins—how she felt wrapped around me, the sounds she made, the way she looked when she came apart in my arms.
Her nails raking down my back, her legs locked around my waist, her voice breaking as she called my name.
My cock hardens immediately at the thought, and I'm already contemplating waking her up for round three when I feel her stir beside me.
She shifts slightly, then her whole body tenses as she wakes fully, realizing where she is—who she's with.
I watch her hand slip beneath the pillow, searching for something that isn't there, before she seems to remember where she is.
Interesting.
What was she reaching for?
She starts to slip out of bed, trying to remain undetected, but it’s a feeble attempt.
"Leaving so soon, Montana?" I murmur, keeping my voice low, right near her ear.
She startles, jerking away before relaxing marginally when our eyes meet.
The wariness is back instantly, those walls of hers shooting up so fast I can almost hear them clicking into place.
"Didn't realize you were awake," she says, voice raspy with sleep.
She pushes herself up, the sheet falling to her waist, exposing her bare breasts.
My mouth goes dry at the sight, and it takes actual effort to keep my eyes on her face.
"Sleep okay?" I ask, propping myself up on one elbow, enjoying the view despite my best efforts.
She nods, running a hand through her tangled hair. "Yeah, surprisingly well, actually."
There's an awkwardness between us now that wasn't there last night.
I'm not used to this part—the waking up together, the figuring out what happens next.
It's uncharted territory, and I'm not sure I like it.
But I don't hate it either, which is even more concerning.
"I should get going," she says, glancing around the room for her clothes, which are scattered across the floor where we tore them off each other.
"No rush," I hear myself saying, the words coming out before I can stop them. "I can make coffee."
She pauses mid-movement, eyebrows rising slightly. "You don't have to do that."
"I know I don't have to," I reply with a shrug, trying to play it casual. "But I'm getting coffee either way. Might as well make enough for two."
Kelsey studies me for a moment, like she's trying to figure out my angle.
That look in her eyes reminds me of Zorro, our Sergeant at Arms, when he's trying to figure out if a prospect is lying.
Calculating.
Weighing the risks.
Finally, she nods. "Okay. Coffee would be good."
"I heard there's a cat café not far from here," she adds as she pulls the sheet around herself and begins gathering her scattered clothes. "Maybe I'll wait to get coffee there instead."
My interest piques immediately. "Astra's place? CatsAndJava?"
Kelsey pauses, t-shirt halfway over her head. "You know it?"
"Everyone in the club knows it," I say, watching as she pulls the shirt down, covering the breasts I was just admiring. "Astra's Python's old lady. The Enforcer," I clarify when she looks confused. "She opened it about seven years ago. Good coffee, from what I hear, though the cats freak me out a little."
"You don't like cats?" There's a hint of amusement in her voice that does strange things to my insides.
I shrug, watching as she shimmies into her jeans, the denim sliding up her thighs in a way that makes me want to rip them right back off. "Never had pets growing up. More of a dog person, I guess."
"Mmm, dogs are too needy."
"And cats aren't?" I counter.
She actually smiles at that, a real smile that transforms her face. "Cats want you on their terms. I respect that."
I tease her, stepping into her space as I pull a t-shirt over my head. "You saying I'm needy, Montana?"
Her eyes flick down to my chest before I cover it, and there's heat there that makes me want to forget about coffee altogether.
"I'm saying you'd make a terrible cat," she retorts, but there's a playfulness in her tone that wasn't there before.
Once she's fully dressed, I pull on a pair of sweatpants and lead her downstairs to the clubhouse kitchen.
It's early enough that most of the guys are still passed out—either in their rooms or wherever they fell the night before.
The main room of the clubhouse looks like a hurricane hit it—beer bottles scattered across tables, overflowing ashtrays, a bra hanging from the antler chandelier.
It smells like stale beer, weed, and the lingering scent of perfume from the hang-arounds who were here last night.
"Looks like I missed quite a party," Kelsey comments, eyeing Doom—one of the other prospects—passed out on the pool table.
"Just a typical Tuesday night," I say with a shrug. "You should see it after a real rager."
We make our way to the kitchen, stepping over Rooster, who's snoring on the floor, an empty tequila bottle clutched to his chest like a teddy bear.
The clubhouse kitchen is surprisingly clean compared to the main room.
Astra insists on it—says she won't cook for a bunch of slobs who can't keep their shit together.
And when Python's old lady lays down the law, you don't argue.
Hell, when any of the old ladies say anything, you know better than to fucking argue with them.
I move around the space, measuring coffee grounds into the filter. "So how long are you staying in Chihuahua?" I ask, trying to sound casual even as I find myself hoping it's not just a quick visit.
Kelsey leans against the counter, arms crossed over her chest.
There's something defensive about the posture, like she's protecting herself from something. Or someone.
"I'm not sure yet," she says after a moment. "A little bit. Depends on a couple of things."
"On what?" I press, wanting more than her vague non-answers.
She shrugs, those walls of hers seemingly reinforced with steel. "On a few things."
Her vagueness is frustrating but also intriguing.
Most women I hook up with can't wait to tell me their life story, like somehow sharing their deepest secrets will make me want to stick around.
Kelsey's different.
She guards her past like it's a fortress under attack.
"What about you?" she asks, watching me set up the coffee maker. "You planning to stay in Mexico?"
"Yeah, a hundred percent," I reply, hitting the brew button. "I’m here to earn my patch, to earn my place in the club."
"How long does that usually take? Earning your patch?"
"Depends on the guy. Some prospects wash out after a few months. Others take years." I lean back against the counter opposite of her, crossing my arms to mirror her stance. "I've been at it a while, but I'm close. Can feel it."
Kelsey nods, seeming genuinely interested. "And what happens after? When you're a full member?"
"More responsibility. More freedom. More of a say in club business." I study her face, trying to read what's behind those guarded eyes. "Why all the questions about club life?"
"Just curious," she says with a shrug, but she doesn't quite meet my gaze. "It's a world I don't know much about."
Bullshit.
The way she carries herself around the clubhouse, the easy way she talked to Ripper and the boys back in Montana—she knows more about club life than she's letting on.
But pushing would only make her retreat further, so I let it slide.
The coffee finishes brewing, and I pour us each a mug.
She takes hers black, which somehow doesn't surprise me.
"So," I say, taking a sip of my own, loaded with sugar. "You looking to earn any extra cash while you’re here, or just enjoying your vacation?"
"Eh, I’m always open to earn a couple extra bucks." she replies, blowing on her coffee before taking a careful sip. "Why, you know someone who needs a hand or something?"
"Maybe. You like working in the service industry?" I nod. "You seem good at it."
A shadow crosses her face at the mention of work, there and gone so quickly I almost miss it. "Yeah, I love it, actually."
"You ever think about doing something else?" I ask, curious about what makes her tick.
She gazes into her coffee, as if the answer might be floating in the dark liquid.
"Sometimes," she admits. "I used to draw. Thought maybe I'd do something with that someday."
"Yeah? You any good?"
A small smile touches her lips. "I was. Haven't done it in a while though."
"Why not?"
The smile fades. "Life gets in the way sometimes."
There's a story there—probably the same one that put that black eye on her face and has her looking over her shoulder—but before I can decide whether to push, my phone rings.
Razor's name flashes on the screen, and I hesitate before answering.
That's not like me.
Club always comes first.
Always.
Yet for some reason, I'm reluctant to end this moment with Kelsey.
"I should take this," I say, already knowing it's club business by the timing of the call.
She nods, understanding in her eyes. "Go ahead."
I answer, moving slightly away from her. "Yeah?"
"Need you at the old warehouse behind Emilio’s," Razor says without missing a beat. "Got a situation developing. Be discreet."
"I'll be there in twenty," I reply, ending the call.
When I turn back to Kelsey, she's already rinsed her mug and set it in the sink.
"Club business?" she asks.
"Yeah." I run a hand through my hair, suddenly annoyed that our time is being cut short. "I gotta go."
"No problem. I should head out anyway." She gathers her few belongings, moving toward the door.
I follow her, suddenly reluctant to let her leave.
On impulse, I grab her phone from her hand.
"What are you?—"
"You don't have a lock on your phone?" I ask, already adding my number to her contacts.
She shrugs, watching me with wary eyes. "Never needed one."
I hand it back to her. "In case you want a local guide to show you around while you're here. Now you've got my number."
Kelsey looks at the phone, then back at me, a small smile playing at her lips. "I'll keep that in mind."
As she steps toward the door, I catch her arm gently.
"Hey," I say, my voice dropping lower. "Last night was good."
Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, the walls come down just enough for me to see something real behind them—a heat, a longing that matches what I'm feeling.
"Yeah," she agrees softly. "It was."
I want to kiss her, but something holds me back. Maybe it's the knowledge that one more taste and I might not be able to let her walk away.
Maybe it's the fear that she'd reject me now that the night is over and reality has set in.
Instead, I step back, giving her space. "See you around, Montana."
She nods, and then she's gone, slipping out the door and into the early morning sunshine.
I stand there for a moment, listening to her footsteps fade, feeling a strange emptiness in the pit of my stomach.
I shake it off, annoyed with myself.
I've got a fuck ton of missed calls from Razor about a club assignment I know nothing about, yet I'm standing here like some lovestruck teen because a hot girl just walked out my door.
Pathetic.
I need to get my head straight.
The club's my priority.
It's what I've given up everything for, what I've worked these past years to be part of.
I can't let myself get distracted by a pair of whiskey-brown eyes and a body that fits perfectly against mine.
But as I slide on my cut and grab my keys, heading out to deal with whatever situation Razor's called me for, I can't shake the feeling that Kelsey’s gotten under my skin in a way no woman ever has before.
I'm walking a dangerous line.
I can feel it.
And the worst part is, I'm not sure I want to step back from it.
The memory of her sleeping face, peaceful and unguarded, flashes through my mind as I kick my bike to life.
I push it away, focusing on the road ahead, on the club business waiting for me.
But deep down, I know I'm already hoping she calls.