CHAPTER 24
EZRA
“Today,” Opal’s makes her voice deeper like she’s a sports announcer, “you’re making us a Sex on the Beach.”
Bolt’s ears go red as he glances away and swallows hard. He shakes his head and opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but he holds himself back.
The party around us is going strong. Tonight, we’re celebrating their president being back at full capacity. Keeping him off his bike this long has been miraculous.
It’s been a month and I know he’s eager to take a ride. He’s been talking with wistful words about taking me out on the back of his bike. I’m looking forward to it, but I wasn’t going to risk anything when it comes to him.
He might have grumbled about it, but I could tell he liked being fawned over and taken care of. I was more than willing to do it.
Now, he’s back to normal for the most part and we’re on the same page about me staying. I’m not going anywhere. With that settled, it’s difficult for me to fathom there ever being a time when I’m not right here.
I had no idea that this place could feel like home. I’m surrounded by the club my father spent my entire life talking about like they were lower than scum. But I’ve found something here worth protecting and worth fighting for.
I’ve gotten close to people I’ve spent my whole life living next to, but never really got to know. Now, I know them.
They’re rough around the edges. They’re fierce and sometimes a little scary. They’re loyal like it’s something written in the marrow of them.
They laugh, but they do it together.
They celebrate, but they do it together.
They grieve, but they do it together.
They fight, but they do it together.
I’ve always yearned for this feeling and now I get to experience it every day.
My eyes drift to where Titus is standing at the bar. He’s surrounded by his brothers with a smile on his face and laughter in his eyes.
His eyes find mine and something lights up in his gray depths. I have a feeling we’re not going to be at the party much longer. Considering the way my thighs clench and need swirls in my belly, I’m more than okay with slipping away whenever Titus is ready.
I’m not going to drag him out of his party, though. He’s not celebrated nearly enough.
Bolt won’t look at Opal while she walks him through making the drink because she keeps saying the word ‘sex’ just to poke at him. I have to bite my lip to keep myself from laughing. When I glance at Lara standing next to me, she has her hand over her mouth, and her eyes are dancing with glee.
“Okay, the last thing for the Sex on the Beach is the cranberry juice,” she tells him. With a shrug she finishes, “Then all you have to do is shake well and strain into a fresh glass.”
Bolt grumbles, “Stop saying sex, Opal, it’s grossing me out.”
Opal’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, and she leans over the bar, her voice filled with teasing mockery that isn’t at all malicious, “You don’t like me saying sex? The big, bad biker prospect doesn’t like the word sex?”
“Just when you say it,” his words are laced with disgust that I know has everything to do her being like a sister to him.
Snake slaps Ryker’s back just as Bolt puts our drinks down in front of us, including one of the sparkling waters Graycie is obsessed with. I narrow my eyes at the club’s VP and barely stop myself from telling him to be careful.
“I’m so fucking glad you’re back, brother,” Snake tells him, exhaustion filling the words. “A few brothers almost got beat into a pulp. How the fuck do you deal with their petty bullshit all the time?” He shakes his head. “Better you than me.”
Titus gives a lazy lopsided smile. “Comes with the patch.”
He says the words easily and with a simplicity that belies the truth behind them. It’s a heavy responsibility. He’s carried it by himself for far too long.
But I’m here now and I’ll help him face whatever comes our way, no matter what.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. A month ago, Titus was shot, but we adapted and dealt with it. The school year is about to start and that’ll require us to adjust again. I’m not worried about it, not when I can feel the caress of his gaze on me like he never wants to look away.
When I look into his eyes, I can see the love he has for me there.
“Some of these brothers are whiney bitches,” Snake points out, but his annoyed words aren’t without affection.
“Yup,” Titus agrees while giving his VP a meaningful look. It earns a glare in return.
Snake wraps an arm around Graycie and pulls her into his side. His hand finds her belly like the movement is the most natural in the world. I can’t help but smile at them and how much in love they are.
“Now you don’t have to run home to hide from them,” Graycie teases him.
Snake glares at her, but there’s no real heat behind it. And when he kisses her forehead tenderly, he can’t even keep up the appearance of being annoyed.
When Jackal and Vera walk up to the bar, they each sweep me up into their arms before they even look at Titus. I barely stop myself from grinning ear to ear and the look of absolute betrayal on my biker’s face isn’t helping.
“Hey,” Titus protests, “what the hell is that? You hug my woman and you don’t even look at me?”
Jackal tucks me into his side while pulling Vera close to him on the other side. “Are you whining, boy?”
Titus pouts and grumbles, “I’m not whining.”
“Sounds like you are,” Jackal deadpans.
Vera reaches up and pats Titus’ face. “Don’t worry, you’re still my baby.”
Titus’ nostrils flare and his eyes go to the ceiling like he’s searching for strength or control. He won’t find it up there.
“But you know we just adore, Ezra,” Vera’s voice is honey and sass.
“Then it’s a good thing I’m keeping her,” Titus says.
When his chin drops and his gray eyes find mine, the possessiveness there has my breath hitching. Whiskey approaches with a small bag in his hands and for some reason I can’t look away from it.
Titus offers me his hand, and I don’t hesitate to take it. He draws me out to the middle of the room, and everyone quiets around us as if they know this moment is one they need to pay attention to.
My eyebrows furrow as I hiss out, “What are you doing?”
“You’ll see,” he assures me with his chest puffed up and pride shining in his eyes.
I look around at everyone and feel that same sense of warmth and belonging rise in my chest. If I’m not careful, I’ll start crying and I don’t think a SOMC party is the right venue for tears.
“Ezra,” Titus’ voice reverberates through the room and I look up him, “you needed my help and protection. It helped me realize I’ve been watching you from the shadows for years, not because of who your dad is but because of who you are.
Light shines from you and the care you show to others allows them to borrow a little bit of it.
You’re caring and funny and crafty as fuck. ”
I can’t help but giggle with his words, the room joins me. When I open my mouth to tell him to stop being so sappy, he pulls something made of black leather out of the bag. My breath stalls in my lungs and the tears pricking at my eyes start to spill over.
Fuck it. Maybe a SOMC party is the perfect venue for tears.
The cut unfurls and I see the property patch and Ryker’s name on the back of it. My hand flies up to my mouth, but I’m not fast enough for it to help hold in the strangled sound that comes out of me. It’s a mixture of joy and surprise.
“You’re already mine and I’m already yours,” his voice deepens and thickens with emotion, “but how about we make it official? I’ve already taken it to the table. The last thing is slipping my cut on you.”
I’m nodding before he even finishes talking.
“Of course,” my voice wobbles slightly. “I’m already yours.”
Titus helps me put the cut on, just like I did for him in front of the hospital a month ago. This time I’m the one to feel the weight of the leather, and all it represents, settle on my shoulders.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly before doing a slow spin and facing my biker. His gray eyes are molten, and it feels like they sear my skin. The promises in those eyes are clear to read—soon I’ll be wearing only the cut while he buries himself inside of me.
A shiver runs up my back at the thought. I want that. I want it so fucking badly.
I’m just about to turn back toward the bar, thinking the cut was the whole of it, but then I gasp, loudly. Because Titus lowers himself down to one knee in front of the entire club.
He reaches into his cut and pulls out a ring without a box and holds it up in the space between us. I don’t even look at it.
Not because I’m not curious but because I can’t look away from his gray eyes. They’re filled with love for me, but there’s also a little nervousness at the edges. It’s not something I’m used to seeing in the eyes of my big, badass Prez, but it’s there right now. Because of me.
“I don’t only want my claim on you made of leather, I want it all, Teach.
” Something in him steadies, like he’s no longer worried about what I’ll say.
I’m sure the tears of joy on my face along with the big smile probably helps to put him at ease.
“You’re wearing my cut, but it’s not enough. Marry me.”
He doesn’t present it as a question, he says it like it’s a foregone conclusion. Maybe it is.
“Titus,” I barely whisper his name as my hand lifts. I caress his cheek before nodding slowly. “Yes.”
It’s the only answer I can give, even if there wasn’t a question.
He slips the ring on my finger, and I don’t get the chance to look at it before he’s surging up toward me and pulling me against his chest. When he kisses me, it’s filled with fire and need. The feeling burns through me, and I grip his cut like it’s the only tether I have in this world.
The cheering around us has me laughing and pulling away from him. He doesn’t let go, not right away. It’s only after he presses kisses all over my face that he finally releases me.
“I think it’s time to go,” he husks against the shell of my ear.