Chapter Twenty-Two
Lark
The room was quiet except for the sound of our breathing.
My heartbeat slowly settled from a sprint to something that resembled normal as I rested against Oliver, my cheek pressed to his warm chest. His arms were wrapped securely around me, holding me close without saying a word.
Outside my bedroom window, the last light of the day painted soft orange streaks across the wall.
Oliver’s fingers lazily traced circles up and down my back, never in a hurry, never asking for anything more than simply being close.
I smiled against his skin.
“What?” he asked quietly.
“You always know when I’m smiling.”
“I can feel it.”
I laughed softly. “I guess that makes sense.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. I liked those almost as much as the passionate ones. Maybe more.
After another minute, I shifted enough to roll onto my side.
Oliver followed, pulling the blanket up over us before I tucked myself against him. My head found its favorite place beneath his chin, one of his arms curling around my shoulders while the other rested across my waist.
It was becoming dangerously easy to fit together like this.
I listened to the steady rhythm of his breathing and he rubbed his thumb absentmindedly across my side. My fingers played over one of the tattoos on his chest.
“I’ve been thinking about something.” His voice was low enough that I almost missed it.
“What?”
“The Dairy Bar.”
“The ice cream?”
He chuckled. “No.”
“Oh.”
I tilted my head back to look at him.
“The meeting.”
Realization settled over me. “Oh.” I knew exactly what he meant. I studied him for a second before speaking. “You got uncomfortable.”
His eyes drifted toward the ceiling. “When?”
“When everyone said you were just like Pipe.”
He didn’t answer.
He didn’t have to.
“I noticed,” I said gently.
He let out a slow breath. “I know.”
I waited.
Oliver wasn’t someone you rushed. Eventually, he spoke. “Most days...” He shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t think about it. But sometimes...” His jaw tightened. “...sometimes somebody says something like that.”
“And?”
“It reminds me.”
“Reminds you of what?”
“That he’s not really my dad.” The words came out so quietly they almost disappeared into the room.
My heart squeezed. “Ollie...”
He shook his head. “I know it’s stupid.”
“It isn’t.”
“It is.” His laugh held no humor. “Pipe has never treated me differently. Not once. He never called me anything but son. He taught me to ride. Taught me how to work on bikes. He showed up for school stuff. He scared away idiots.”
A small smile tugged at my lips. “I can picture that.”
His smile faded. “The problem was never him. It was me.” He looked down at me. “Every now and then... I still remember I’m the adopted kid. Me and Arlo.”
I reached up and cupped his cheek. “You know what I see?”
“What?”
“I see a man whose parents chose him.”
His brow furrowed. “That’s different.”
“It is. They didn’t end up with you because of biology. They looked at a scared nine-year-old boy with his younger brother, and decided...” I smiled. “...that’s our son.”
His eyes searched mine.
“There’s power in that, Ollie. A lot of power. They didn’t have to love you. They chose to. They chose you every single day after that.”
I watched his expression soften.
“You know what else I noticed?”
“What?”
“The people in this clubhouse.”
He waited.
“None of the original guys are blood.”
He blinked. “What?”
“Wrecker.”
I started counting on my fingers.
“Pipe. Nickel. Maniac. Boink. Clash. Freak.” I waved my hand. “I think that is all of them.”
Oliver chuckled. “You did good, babe.”
“They aren’t brothers because they share parents,” I continued on.
“They’re brothers because they chose each other.
They’ve spent years proving that.” I rested my hand over his heart.
“The Fallen Lords aren’t a family because of blood.
They’re a family because every single one of them wakes up every morning and chooses the people sitting beside them. ” I smiled. “You fit right into that.”
His eyes stayed locked on mine.
“So yeah... It’s okay to have doubts sometimes. I think everybody has them. But don’t let those doubts convince you that you don’t belong. Because from where I’m sitting...” I looked around my little bedroom before looking back at him. “...a blind person could see how much your family loves you.”
His throat worked. “They do.”
“They really do.”
“And Nikki? Your mom,” I laughed softly. “That woman practically glows every time she looks at you.”
He smiled.
“I noticed that today. I noticed it yesterday. And the day before. She doesn’t look at you because she has to. She looks at you because she’s proud of the man you became.”
He was quiet for a long time. Finally, he nodded once. “I needed to hear that.”
“I know.”
He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“I do.”
I settled back against him. “So...” I said after a minute. “I’ve got another question.”
He laughed. “I’m shocked.”
“I know.”
“I ask a lot of questions.”
“You do.”
“They’re good questions.”
“They usually are.”
I grinned. “Drew and Demi.”
“What about them?”
“I don’t know anything about them.”
“They’re Mason’s nieces.”
“I got that part.”
He smiled. “Mason’s always been close with them. They were around a lot growing up. He helped raise them. Especially after things got rough.”
“So they’re basically clubhouse family?”
“Pretty much.”
“I guess that explains why everyone acted like they’d just come home.”
“That’s exactly what happened.”
I thought about the sisters for a second. “They’re pretty.”
Oliver looked at me. “Sure.”
I nudged him with my shoulder. “Oh, come on.”
“What?”
“You noticed.”
He shook his head. “Honestly? No.”
I raised an eyebrow. “No?”
“They’ve always just been Drew and Demi. I’ve known them too long. They’re family.”
I laughed. “You’re hopeless.”
“So I’ve been told.”
He thought for a second. “Scout noticed, though.”
“Oh?”
He nodded. “There was a time he had a thing for Demi.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Huh.” I smiled to myself. “That’s interesting.”
“He was never exactly subtle, though.”
“I’ll have to remember that.”
Oliver chuckled. “Don’t go causing trouble trying to meddle with those two.”
“I would never,” she gasped.
He gave me a look. “Lark.”
“I would only cause a little trouble.”
“I believe that.”
I laughed and settled back against him.
The room grew quiet again. This time it wasn’t because either of us had run out of things to say.
It was because something inside him had finally eased.
The doubts were probably never going to disappear completely since some scars didn’t, but tonight, as I lay wrapped safely in his arms, I hoped he’d remember one thing the next time those doubts tried to creep back in.
Family wasn’t always the people who shared your blood.
Sometimes they were the people who looked at you, chose you, and never once let you question that choice again.