Chapter Twenty-Seven
Emmett
FINGERS CARDED slowly through his hair, his head in Wilder’s lap as they watched TV. They’d spent the day on the couch, relaxing and talking. Well, they’d spent a good amount of time in Wilder’s bed, too. He certainly hadn’t had any complaints.
The others hadn’t returned from their run yet, but he knew Miles would get off work soon. Ezra was the only one who was home, and he had dropped by the kitchen a few times during the day, always looking for more snacks, but other than that, they’d been alone.
There were still questions he wanted to ask Wilder before the others returned. He had endless questions, but there was one he kept coming back to.
“How did you end up in the club?”
Wilder’s gaze cut to his, a flash of surprise in his eyes. He should’ve asked before, but it had seemed like one of those big questions you had no right to ask someone you’d only just met. Considering everything they’d done last night and today, he figured it was safe to ask now.
“Uh.” Wilder leaned back. “I was on the streets for a while, and then the Disciples found us and brought us to their shelter.”
“Us?”
The tick in Wilder’s jaw had him sitting up, considering whether he should reach for Wilder’s hand or not.
“Jane,” Wilder said, voice cracking and making him clear his throat. He shook his head slightly, then looked up at Emmett. “We met on the streets. Didn’t know what love was before her.”
Emmett swallowed hard. “Are you―Were you in love with…?”
It would make more sense why he was so pissed about Solo and Jane’s betrayal, right? The silence didn’t help his poor heart. He didn’t want Wilder to be in love with anyone else.
“In love? With my sister?”
Wilder raised his dark brows at him, amusement shining in his eyes.
Emmett squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his head into his hands. Right. Sister. Urgh.
Wilder’s huff of laughter had him looking between his fingers at him. Wilder looked much too amused.
He grabbed a pillow, using it to hit Wilder in the shoulder, and lost it to him in less than two seconds. Wilder grinned and threw the pillow out of Emmett’s reach.
“Hey!”
Wilder’s hands closed around his thighs, jerking Emmett into his lap.
One hand cupped the side of his face, thumb tracing his bottom lip and bringing a needy sound out of him.
Wilder surged forward, mouth slamming against Emmett’s.
His stomach tightened, heat rushing through his body as that devious tongue tangled with his.
“Wilder,” he protested, groaning against his lips.
He pulled back, and when Wilder followed, chasing his mouth, he put a hand over his face to push him away.
“No. I’m trying to have a conversation here.”
Wilder grunted, pulling Emmett’s hand away and trapping it behind his back, making his back arch and pushing his chest closer to Wilder. “I can multitask.”
“As tempting as that is―” It was. It really fucking was. “―We both know exactly how that would end.”
“Very well for both of us?”
His deadpan look only made Wilder chuckle and press a kiss to his lips. He cursed himself as he leaned into the kiss, wanting more. So much more.
“Just tell me,” he breathed against Wilder’s lips.
Wilder dropped his hands, and Emmett slipped out of his lap and onto the couch next to him.
“Steel and Kai are in charge of the shelter. They live there, too. They take in every kid and give them a home. A family. I might not have been adopted, but they’re my parents in every other way.”
He reached for Wilder’s hand, squeezing gently.
“I’m glad you have them.”
Wilder nodded, a soft smile on his lips as he said, “So am I.”
“I would like to―”
Wilder perked up, and it took him a second to recognize the rising rumbling sound from outside as motorcycles.
Wilder told him earlier that they didn’t have any news, and Ezra had confirmed that they couldn’t ID the two who’d gone after him at the gym.
A shudder rocked through him. They could’ve taken him.
Killed him. If Wilder hadn’t gotten there in time.
He’d been completely oblivious to everything going on, too.
He wouldn’t have even known to alert anyone or fight back.
There was nothing like the silent world he was born into, and he hated that what had often been his safe space had been tainted by the grim actions of horrible men.
He wanted it back. He wanted… he wanted Wilder with him in that silence.
It was in silence that he noticed the world.
That he saw more, felt more. Wilder understood that. He thrived in that world, too.
Wilder made him believe in himself. Made him believe in a lot of things. He liked who he was with Wilder. Who he was becoming.
Wilder got up, then leaned down to press a quick kiss to his lips, only leaving him wanting more. He grumbled under his breath as he watched Wilder walk across the room and disappear into the hall. He stood, rubbing the back of his neck, then shook his head at himself.
He made his way to the hall, the sound of several voices overlapping as the front door opened.
He waited in the opening to the living room, gaze stuck on Wilder as he talked to Kaz and Killian while they hung up their helmets and jackets.
They did have a whole helmet rack by the door, but some of them left their helmets out on their bikes.
The weather wasn’t terrible, but once they hit fall, he was sure they’d all be parking their bikes in the garage and hanging their helmets inside.
He wasn’t sure whose spare helmet he’d been using, but he’d like to get―surprise swamped his insides.
He wanted his own helmet. He wanted to keep riding with Wilder.
He wanted… things he probably shouldn’t want.
“Hey, Em. You alright?”
He blinked, finding Kaz in front of him.
“Oh, uh… Yeah?”
One of Kaz’s brows creased for a second before smoothing out again.
“Good. I’m glad nothing happened to you.”
His throat closed up, and he drew in a painful breath. Oh. Right. He shook his head at himself, trying to muster up the brain cells to hold a conversation.
“Did you figure anything out? Any reason they’d go after me?”
Kaz’s sigh didn’t bode well.
“No. All we know is that those guys who came after you were likely associated with the gang we’re squabbling with. We know as little about them as we do the ones in the car who tried to run you over.”
“What does this gang want with me?”
Kaz’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I wish I had answers for you. I hate that you’ve been put in danger just by being here. That’s the last thing I want.”
He nodded stoically, a lump I his throat making it harder to speak, and his voice came out rough as he said, “I know.”
Kaz put a hand on Emmett’s shoulder. “I’ll let you know if we find anything.”
“Thanks.”
He watched Kaz walk off, then turned back to search for Wilder when he nearly got checked by a bigger body. Kian grinned down at him, green eyes sparkling mischievously. He refrained from rolling his eyes at him, though only barely.
“Everyone’s bummed about the whole thing,” Kian said, wrapping an arm around Emmett’s shoulders and steering him toward the living room. “So, we’re gonna throw a little party to lift everyone’s spirits.”
“Let me guess: you’re cooking?”
“Of course,” Kian exclaimed with a wide grin.
He shook his head, gaze catching on Wilder standing a few feet away, his jaw clenched tight as his eyes narrowed in a glare. It took a second before he realized that Wilder was glaring at Kian, or rather, at Kian’s arm around him.
His heart took off at a dizzying speed. Was he a complete idiot for finding that possessiveness hot? Absolutely. Did he care? Not at all. It was already well established that Wilder made him a bumbling, blushing idiot.
He left Kian to get dinner ready and went upstairs to change out of his sweatpants and T-shirt, pulling out the few sets of clothes he’d brought and laying them out on the bed. He ran his gaze over them while tapping his lips, wondering why his stomach felt like it was tied in knots.
“Blue shirt,” Ezra said, rolling his desk chair closer.
Emmett looked over his shoulder, brow arched at Ezra. “You think?”
Ezra leaned back in his chair, rolling a pencil between his fingers as he glanced at the clothes covering Emmett’s bed. He raised his head, a wicked smile spreading on his lips as he met Emmett’s gaze.
“Unless you don’t want to get laid?”
His mouth dropped open, no words finding him as he flapped his hands at Ezra until he managed to sign, “What?”
Ezra’s eyes were shining with that mischief he knew to expect from him as he tapped the end of the pencil against his temple. “I notice things, babe. Ain’t no reason for you to stay in that man’s bed unless you really wanted to be there.”
He snapped his mouth shut and dropped his ass onto the bed, a groan pushing past his lips as he squeezed his eyes shut.
“Don’t worry,” Ezra said, a smile playing on his lips. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
That wasn’t reassuring whatsoever.
He arched a brow at Ezra, watching him shrug with that annoying look on his face before he rolled his chair back to his desk.
He turned his attention to the clothes strewn across the bed. His gaze landed on the long-sleeved polo shirt Ezra had pointed out, and a sigh pushed past his lips. Blue it was.
∞ ∞ ∞
He tugged on the sleeve of his shirt, gaze skimming across the room. The short amount of time in which these bikers managed to throw everything together for a party still surprised him.
His gaze caught on a young woman who was standing by the dining table with a glass in one hand, her other arm wrapped around her middle.
She wore a maroon dress that hugged all her curves, her honey blonde hair pulled up in a high ponytail with a few loose pieces framing her pretty face.
He hadn’t seen her before, but he’d recognize that look of anguish on her face anywhere.
He made his way across the room. He was a few feet away when her head jerked toward him, as if he’d caught her by surprise.
He smiled and said, “Hi, I’m Emmett. You new around here, too?”
She shook her head. “I’m Dove. Maddox’s sister.”
“That’s a beautiful name.”
“Thank you.”
She threw him a quick glance, then returned her gaze to a group of the bikers hanging out by the couch.
The twins were laughing as Cooper wrapped an arm around Emma, who shot him a warning glare as her left hand lowered to the holster at her thigh.
Nicky slapped the back of Cooper’s head, and he let go of Emma before she could pull a knife on the idiot.
Dove cleared her throat, and when Emmett looked back at her, he noticed how her brows flitted together, her lips pursed in what almost looked like anger.
“Are you alright?”
She sighed loudly, a sound that resonated in his soul.
“Men. Why are they such assholes?”
“Couldn’t tell ya. Which one’s yours?”
Dove harrumphed. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? He’s not really mine.”
Why did that sound like something he could’ve said? Why did it make his chest feel impossibly tight all of a sudden?
He opened his mouth, then closed it, not liking where his thoughts were headed. He cleared his throat, forcing out a soft, “I’m sorry.”
“He should be.”
“Oh, agreed,” he said, meeting her sly smile with one of his own.
He ran his gaze across the bikers, instantly drawn to the hulking mass of a man making his way through the crowd.
He looked downright sinful as he ran a hand through his wavy hair, arm muscles flexing.
It was hard to believe they’d actually gone there.
He had those big hands on his body only hours ago.
Dove made a small sound in the back of her throat. Was that a choked laugh?
He found her pursing her lips, gaze where his had been a moment ago, before she turned to look at him. Her lips pulled into a wry smile. “You fooling around with that big guy? Wilder, right?”
His brows jumped, and he knew he was blushing from her low chuckle.
A sparkle entered her eyes, and he wasn’t sure what he was about to be in for, but a part of him was relieved that someone knew.
He didn’t want it to be some dirty secret.
He didn’t want it to be a secret at all, but he knew now probably wasn’t the best time to tell anyone.
Especially because they hadn’t really talked about what this was.
What it meant. What they meant to each other.
“You know, I was warned not to get involved with biker dudes. Should’ve listened.”
“Is this you warning me?”
Dove shrugged. “Do you need the warning?”
Did he? Maybe. He didn’t see Wilder as just some biker dude. He was the one who made him feel safe. Seen. The one who danced with him and didn’t care that he got paint on him. He was someone he wanted to spend all his time with. Someone he―fuck… He wanted more with Wilder.
“Ah.” Dove bumped his shoulder with hers, making him meet her gaze. “Too late for warnings.”
Yeah, he supposed it was.
Raising his head, his cheeks burning, he caught Wilder’s gaze across the room, green-flecked eyes already locked on him. Wilder looked at him with that streak of possessiveness he was starting to crave. Had been craving. For a good while now.
A sigh escaped him. Dove was right. It was definitely too late.