Chapter 2 #4
Chip leaned his elbows on his knees, his long hair that was more salt than pepper fell forward around his face.
Like Jigsaw, he was broad-shouldered. In the month he’d been in Pennsylvania, he’d started to fill out more, both in muscle and build.
Keys had done a background on Chip before he’d been allowed free rein of the club’s property.
Just because he was a veteran did not mean Steel automatically trusted him.
Since arriving as a prospect, Keys had done backgrounds on every member, past and present, of the club for the officers.
In his forties, Chip had an intense look about him. But then, Keys couldn’t blame the guy after what he’d been through. “Moping won’t solve your problem. You say you’re not a kid, then act like it. Tell us what’s going on and see if we can help.”
Keys made a petulant face—because the truth of the matter was that he was moping. Before he lost his nerve, Keys blurted out, “How do you get good with women?”
Both Chip’s and Jigsaw’s eyebrows went up.
Keys desperately tried not to look around to see who else had heard.
Where was a club party when he needed one?
He used to be a master at hiding during those.
At least Ghost and Ranger weren’t here. Though single, they would be at the club’s bar this time of night.
Ghost might be the brother who looked after Keys the most, but the guy was still a former SEAL and the club’s enforcer.
That was intimidating as fuck when it came to, well, everything.
Ghost had more confidence in his little finger than Keys did in his entire body.
“Are you talking about sex or—”
“No!” Keys shouted, sitting upright. Jesus. He did not need his brothers giving him the sex talk! It was bad enough that they used to joke about it with him when the Honeys had been around. “I just meant, you know, talking to them, and, like, getting them to look at you.”
Chip and Jigsaw exchanged another look. Keys really wished they would stop doing that. Chip motioned to Jigsaw, like he was telling him Keys was his burden.
The tight expression Jigsaw gave in return said he was not impressed. Turning his attention back to Keys, his club brother asked, “What makes you think they aren’t looking at you?”
Frustration got the better of Keys and he waved up and down his body. “Look at me, and then look at you! Not exactly a competition here.”
Jigsaw blinked, but to his credit, he didn’t actually do a visual comparison between the two of them.
“That sounds like a you-problem, not a women-problem.” But when Keys went to respond, Jigsaw held up his hand to silence him.
“Keys, the fact that you just compared the two of us as your reason why you have trouble talking to women tells me more than you probably wanted me to know. And since I am assuming this is in reaction to the bachelor auction that’s coming up, I’m going to give you a solid piece of advice: take a long, hard look in the mirror.
Not to compare us, but to see what in yourself you want to change.
If you can honestly look in the mirror and you are completely satisfied with who you are and what you look like, then own it.
Be exactly who you are, nerdy kid-brother and all.
But,” he held up a pointer finger, “if you aren’t happy with yourself, if you don’t like who you are and how you look, then how can you expect any woman to? ”
Keys blinked slowly, hating how much that advice made sense. “I’m not like you guys. I’m not strong.”
Jigsaw sat back against the couch, lifting his right ankle to his left knee.
“You think we were born this way? You think we came out of our mamas bulked up and looking this good?” Chip chuckled, and even Keys felt his lips twitch at Jigsaw’s sarcastic response.
“If you want to build muscle then you’re going to have to work at it, kid.
Afraid that’s one thing that your computers won’t fix with a bit of code. ”
Keys fought off making a disgusted face. He was trying to prove he wasn’t an immature kid, right? It would sort of negate his argument. “Where would I start?”
“Well, for one, I’d cut out all those sweets and energy drinks,” Chip suggested with a stern, pointed look. “Protein is your new best friend.”
“A lot of us meet in the gym to work out before or after work, depending on our schedules,” Jigsaw added.
He’d taken over as the high school’s security guard after Pirate had resigned.
With the school-age club kids spread between the elementary school and the high school, the club wanted a member at both for extra protection.
Keys was silent as he thought through their suggestions.
He understood adding protein and starting to exercise more, but realistically, he wasn’t sure he could cut out his energy drinks.
And what the hell had his gummy bears done to him for him to ditch them just like that?
No, he’d eat less of them, but there was no way he’d be able to stop cold turkey.
The idea of working out held merit. But to do it in front of his brothers? Who probably could bench press him and his computer lab?
Then again, construction on the building across the street was almost done.
There were areas that were already complete.
Rather than working out at the club’s gym, which was just the large outdoor garage that the brothers had converted into an exercise area, Keys could purchase the equipment he needed and put it over in his new building.
Tom wouldn’t mind; they’d already discussed having an employee gym.
It would just be a little ahead of schedule.
But he would still need a partner, a trainer. Someone who would push him and motivate him when he got distracted. Because Keys would get distracted.
Standing, Keys said, “Text me what equipment my gym across the street would need. Would you be willing to work out with me over there?” Not wanting to exclude him, Keys also turned to Chip. “You, too.”
Jigsaw smiled up at him. “I’d be happy to.”
“Me, too,” Chip answered. “Help me get back into shape, too.”
Keys did not point out that the man might have lost muscle and weight while living on the streets but he was in no way “out of shape”.
“Thank you,” he told both men before hurrying from the room. His mind was spinning a million miles per hour.
Ignoring the notification noise coming from his computer, Keys hurried into his bathroom.
Each of the clubhouse apartments had a small bathroom that barely fit a shower stall, a toilet, and a sink.
He barely fit inside, so he had no idea how some of his brothers did so when they were so much larger than he was.
Stopping in front of the mirror, Keys did as Jigsaw ordered. He looked. Really, really looked. At twenty-four, he still had a baby face, in his opinion. No beard, no mustache… He shaved every morning, but it wasn’t like it was that thick after a single day. Just some stubble that itched.
He had a dimple in his chin, just like his father.
It had been five years since he’d seen or spoken to his father, and yet he still was allowing the man to dictate small, minute things about Keys’ everyday life.
Hell, he still made his bed every morning with pristine corners.
And just like his father, he had the same military haircut and clean-shaven face.
He couldn’t even remember the last time his dirty-blonde hair had even touched his ears.
The one thing Keys had going for him was his height. But right now, he looked like a beanpole. Turning to the side, he practically disappeared.
Determined, he headed back to his computer. He needed to order equipment, some exercise clothes, running shoes, and whatever else he would need to help him. He was no longer his father’s son—he’d proven that years ago. Now he needed to start acting like it.
Immediately, his eyes landed on the message waiting for him.
Gl!tch.OS: First, thank you for confiding in me. That couldn’t have been easy to type, and I hope you know that you can talk to me about anything. We’re friends, Keys. You’re one of the few people I know I can trust, and I hope you feel the same about me.
Gl!tch.OS: As for what you said, and maybe it’s just me because of how I am reading your messages, but I hear the pain in your text.
You wish you were more like your brothers.
Hell, as annoying as she can be, there are many days when I wish I was more like my sister.
But we can’t be THEM. If we were THEM, then we wouldn’t be US.
I wouldn’t be ME and you wouldn’t be YOU.
And I think YOU is pretty damn fantastic.
Gl!tch.OS: I hope this helps. I don’t envy you having to get up on a stage and being auctioned off, but make the most of it.
Who knows. Maybe your true love will be waiting for you in the crowd and takes a chance on you.
Whoever she is, she’s one lucky girl. Because you, Keys, are the best man I know—and trust me, that’s saying something.
Gl!tch.OS: I hope you have a good night. Oh, and Bishop to C3.