Chapter 4 Rebel
“ Y ou okay?” Bella asked as I dropped into the seat across from her.
“Yeah.” I wasn’t. Not really.
I thought I moved beyond the fear and anxiety. I believed I had healed from some of the heartache and trauma Paul brought into my life, but maybe I hadn’t.
Heron didn’t do anything wrong. Sure, he was a bit over the top with his behavior on occasion. I didn’t like that he forced that shirt on me, and I intended to tell him as soon as possible, but I knew he would listen to me. He respected me. Heron was nothing like Paul.
So why did my heart race so fast it felt like it would beat through my chest? Why did I freeze in fear when I wasn’t afraid of Heron? This reaction didn’t make sense. I felt embarrassed, foolish, and like a freak.
“Rebel, it’s okay not to be okay.”
Bree’s soft voice soothed the worry I felt. “I know.”
“Do you? Because I’ve lost my shit quite a few times at The Roost. It’s entertaining.”
I snickered but knew it had to have been awful for her. “Trauma does weird things to us.”
“It does,” she agreed. “So let it out. Don’t hold it in. Scream into your pillow or rage at the sky. I did. Don’t let it get to a point where it explodes from you. Take my advice. It’s exhausting to fight it.”
I supposed she understood and had a point. “I should talk to Heron.” Of all the people I knew at The Roost, he was the one I felt would understand. It should have been Bree.
She gave me a knowing smile. “I think so. Don’t worry. We’re still your bitch besties.”
A laugh shook free, and I realized I needed to talk to someone because I was trying to wrestle all the shit from my past and force it into a box where it couldn’t get out, but that only made it worse. “Damn straight.”
I looked down at the shirt covering my bikini and the bold palm tree design. Black and white. Soft fabric. It smelled like Heron—sandalwood, leather, and bourbon.
Heron liked to wear shirts with loud prints that buttoned down the front, although he always wore them open over a tee or A-shirt. He rolled the sleeves above his biceps, which always drew my eye because of the bulging muscle. They hung loose but still managed to hug his tall, athletic frame.
Heron isn’t Paul , I repeated in my head.
Not five minutes later, Heron left Crow’s office and walked toward us. He cleared his throat as he approached. “Rebel, can we talk?”
I nodded. “Sure.”
“Someplace private,” he added.
“My room.” I thought it was wiser than choosing his.
“Lead the way.”
I rose from my seat, heading down the hall and up to the second-floor guest room that had become my little haven since my arrival at The Roost. He walked beside me in silence until we reached my door, and I used the key from the lanyard I wore around my neck. I usually carried a purse but left it behind when I decided to lounge in the sun.
Heron followed me inside once I unlocked the door and shut it behind us. He didn’t sit on my bed. Instead, he sat at the small table in one of two chairs. I took the one across from him.
It wasn’t the biggest space, but I didn’t care about that. It was clean, mine, and no one messed with my stuff. After never having my own space for nearly two years, it meant everything to me to be given this room for as long as I wanted. There wasn’t much furniture besides the table and chairs, the queen-sized bed, nightstand, and dressers. A large closet completed the space, and I shared an attached bathroom with one of the club girls, Pixie.
“What did you want to talk about?” I asked, lifting my hands to rest them on the table. Out of nervous habit, I clenched my fingers together.
Heron noticed. He reached across, nearly touching my hand, but stopped. “I don’t want to touch you again without your permission. I haven’t respected your personal space as I should have.” He adjusted in his seat, leaving his palm on the table close enough I could brush our fingers if I wanted. “I feel strongly about you, Rebel.”
I blinked, tilting my head as I stared at him. His words didn’t shock me, but his patience did. The fact that he didn’t want to push himself on me meant more than I could ever explain. “Thank you for respecting my boundaries.” I bit my lip, nibbling on the soft bottom portion. He made me nervous, but only because I felt something for him too. “I feel, uh, the same,” I blurted in a rush as I felt my cheeks heat.
His lips curved upward in a grin. God. That mouth of his. Full, for a guy’s mouth, and almost sinful. “That’s good because I don’t want us on opposing sides anymore. How about you?”
Nope. “Me either.”
“I want to see where this can go between us. You think you can give us a chance?”
Yes. I sure did. “No more private war?” I teased.
“Nah, Spark. There’s enough fire without adding nonsense to the flames.”
I’d heard it said on more than one occasion that there was chemistry when you met the right person. A spark that lit from within. More than attraction. A lot more than just a willingness to sleep together and get it out of your system. We had that kind of chemistry. I just didn’t want to give in to it before now. “I agree.”
“And just so you know, I do want to touch you. All over. All fucking night. But we don’t have to rush that part. I can be patient.”
I blinked because it surprised me since I didn’t think of bikers or bad boys as patient men. That had everything to do with my ex. Paul wasn’t a kind man. I learned that the hard way. “You sure?”
“Yeah, Love. I am. How about you?”
Omg, yes. Over recent days, I’ve become enamored with him and his sweet but fierce personality. I might have gotten spooked this afternoon, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t interested in Heron. I only reacted the way I did because I had shit to deal with in my past. If he could give me time, we could make this work. “I’m sure.”
“Then that brings us to the next part. Can I hold your hand?”
I think I melted into a little pile of goo. My insides felt squishy and warm, gooey like the center of a cinnamon roll. A silly thought but still sweet. “Yes.”
He brushed his palm over mine, gently entwining our fingers. “I need you to explain to me what happened today, but I’ll go first.”
I nodded, gesturing for him to continue.
“I saw you half naked and nearly lost my shit. I don’t want every fucker in the club to see your body like that. It pissed me off.”
Really? “Why?” Jealousy?
“Because I want you to be mine , and I don’t fucking share, Rebel.”
He wanted me to be his. Wow. But what did that mean? “I’m not super fluent on biker terms, even if I’ve been around them since I arrived here. When you say that, what do you want?”
“You,” he clarified. “Your ass on my bike, riding behind me. You sleeping beside me in my bed. I don’t know when it started, but I do know that I want to be with you. It’s not a one-time deal. That okay?”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Good. Now I want to know why you were afraid of me.” He squeezed my fingers in encouragement.
“Before Crow and Bella found me on Undertaker’s land, I ran away.”
He frowned. “Ran from what?”
“Not what.” I dropped my gaze, a little worried about how he would react. “From my ex.”
Heron stilled. I noticed his body go rigid as my head lifted. His dark eyes nearly turned onyx. “What did he do?”
“I don’t think we need to talk about that yet.”
Heron frowned and slowly stood, tugging me closer. “We can’t have secrets like this. It won’t work, Rebel. Tell me so I understand.”
I started to pull away, and he sighed.
“Please.”
I imagine it wasn’t a word he said often. A man like him didn’t have to beg for anyone or anything. He was confident, sexy, and intelligent, with dark wavy hair and a smile that hinted at all the wicked thoughts in his head.
Women probably lined up for a chance in his bed. His jeans didn’t hide the generous bulge between those muscular thighs. I couldn’t avoid looking there when he sauntered through the bar. The man had a powerful presence and plenty of swagger.
“He was abusive,” I revealed in a soft tone. “Mental. Physical. I’ve got scars that aren’t all visible on my skin, Heron.”
“Fuck. Tell me where to find this cocksucker.”
Uh, no. “It doesn’t matter. I’m free. He’s long gone.”
Heron didn’t appear convinced. “He doesn’t get away with this. No fucking way.”
I loved that this big, rough biker wanted to be my champion. I dreamed of someone to come into my life and rescue me long before I found the courage to escape Paul’s abuse. “I don’t need that.”
His forehead lowered to mine as he stepped closer. “I don’t like it.”
“I didn’t think you would.”
“What’s his name?”
“Paul.”
“Last name,” Heron growled.
“This isn’t your fight, Heron. Let it go.”
He lifted his head to stare into my eyes. “Love, it’s my fight because you’re mine. It’s that simple. I won’t push it right now, but this conversation isn’t over.”
“Can we agree to drop it until a later time?”
“Yeah.”
“I mean it. Don’t go searching for him. No crazy, jealous, testosterone stuff. Okay?”
He tilted his head back and sighed. “Fine.”
“Thank you.”
“I need something from you in return.”
“What? A consolation prize for refraining from violence?” I joked.
“Hell yeah. A kiss.”
A kiss. I didn’t expect that. “Okay.”
“I want you to stay still. Don’t move.”
Hmmm. “But,” I began.
“Nope. Shhh. Be still, Love. Just feel the spark.”
His head lowered, and he lifted his hands, gently holding my jaw in place. I wondered if he would ravage my mouth, claim my lips, and devour me. A part of me wanted him to do it.
Heron’s mouth pressed to mine, and something inside me ignited. The flame we talked about sent heat rushing through my veins. That little spark zipped and zinged across my skin like a live wire. An electric jolt that shot a needy ache into my core.
A moan escaped as he pulled back. I didn’t want it to end.
Funny, but it wasn’t a wild or fuck-me-now kiss. Somehow, it was even more potent. Tender. Sweet. The passion contained in those few seconds unfurled a deep need and heightened the desire between us. But it also endeared Heron to me because I felt his care and concern with that soft brush of his lips. He held back to ensure I wasn’t overwhelmed.
“That’s just the beginning,” he whispered like he knew everything I was feeling. Maybe he did. I’d never met a guy as intuitive as him.
“How do you know what I need?” I asked, nearly breathless, as our chests rubbed with every inhalation. “It’s like you’re in my head and my heart at the same time.”
“I just feel it.”
It was almost cheesy, but the sincerity in his tone and that spark between us proved he spoke the truth.
Funny thing, I felt him , too. His raw hunger for me and his need to protect and shelter me from harm. It was hard to believe fate had brought the kind of man I dreamed about into my life when I least expected him. Like a fairytale, only this was the adult version with a bad boy biker and an iron steed.
And I wasn’t the damsel in distress. Sure, I had things to work through. I wasn’t perfect. But I didn’t need him to save me. I wanted him to walk beside me while I kicked ass and be there to make me come when it was over. It wasn’t hard to figure out.
“Maybe you aren’t the only one.”
“I think I need another kiss to be sure.”
The next time we parted, I was far too dazed to form a single thought.