SIX: Home

~JUNE~

My breath caught.

Those words hit deeper than they should have and he said it so easily, so naturally, not possessive in a jealous way, but possessive in a territorial way. Like he had drawn a line around me the second I stepped through those gates.

And everyone inside knew it.

I swallowed, pulse quickening in my throat. “I’m not… yours.” I said weakly, though it came out more like a question than a statement.

One corner of his mouth twitched.

“You’re under my protection.” He corrected smoothly. “That’s the same thing in here.”

The weight of that settled heavily in my chest.

Across the room, a few bikers were still sneaking glances at me, but now they looked away the second Scott’s gaze flicked toward them and I suddenly understood something.

In my apartment, I’d been small, invisible and easy to take from. But here? I was untouchable and that realization should have made me feel safe. Instead, it made my heart race for an entirely different reason.

A sudden warm presence stopped beside our table. “Well, ain’t you just the cutest little thing.”

I looked up.

A chubby older woman stood there, dressed in fitted denim jeans and a bright red-and-white floral top. Her greying brown hair sat in a neat short bob, and her warm green eyes looked down at me with something close to motherly affection.

“Hey sugar, I’m Aunty Pam. What would you like for breakfast?”

Breakfast?

“Oh- no… I’m okay.” I started quickly.

Right on cue, my stomach growled so loudly that I was sure Scott had heard it. I wanted to disappear.

But Pam only chuckled warmly. “That so?”

My face burned.

“Prez? You’d have your usual?” She asked Scott.

He nodded once. “She’ll have my usual too.”

My head snapped toward him. “I can order for myself-”

Aunty Pam was already walking away with a wink.

I slumped slightly in my chair. All I’d done since arriving here was embarrassed myself. Helmet wobbling, screaming on the bike and now, my growling stomach. I pressed my lips together and let my thoughts drift.

To Gavin.

The image of him in that hospital bed flashed in my head. The way he looked at me when I said I’d go with Scott.

Guilt gnawed my insides. “I hope he’s okay…” I murmured. The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Scott’s scrolling stopped, he lowered his phone slowly and looked at me with a raised brow. “Gavin?”

I nodded, staring down at the scratched wooden table. “I feel awfully guilty for what happened to him. His career-”

“-will be fine.” His tone was firm and certain. “You don’t need to overthink this. Gavin will heal fine. The injury isn’t as bad as you’re making it seem.”

I nodded faintly.

Still…

If I had stayed with Gavin at his place… maybe we would’ve been more than friends. The thought lingered painfully in my chest.

“I remember you.” Scott said suddenly.

I looked up.

“From our old neighborhood.” He explained further.

My cheeks warmed instantly. Back then I was awkward and quiet. The girl who tagged along after Gavin with scraped knees and messy ponytails. I remembered Scott watching from a distance sometimes, leaning against fences with his arms crossed.

Scott’s gaze held mine now. “It’s pathetic, really.”

My eyes snapped up fully. “What is?” I asked, brows furrowing.

He studied me like he was debating whether to say it. “The crush you’ve had.” He ran a hand through his hair. “For how many years now?”

My jaw clenched with heat flaring in my chest. “It’s not some silly ‘crush.’” I shot back. “While you were gone, I was there for Gavin. I love him.”

The confession flew out of me before I could stop it.

Scott’s brows lifted slightly, stunned that I had just openly confessed my feelings for his brother. The air between us shifted.

“Even if he treats you like an emotional dumpster?”

The words hit harder than I expected.

“What?” I breathed.

“He probably runs to you every time something goes wrong.” Scott continued calmly. “Breakup? He calls you. Bad game? He’s at your place. Argument with Coach? You’re the one listening.”

My heart thudded. “That’s because I care about him.” I snapped. “That’s what people who love each other do.”

Scott leaned back slightly in his chair with sharp judging eyes. “No.” He corrected. “That’s what someone does when they know they’ll always be there. No matter what.”

I shook my head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Scott didn’t even flinch. “You should stop chasing something that’s never been yours to begin with.” he said evenly. “Unrequited love isn’t romantic, June. It’s exhausting.”

My throat tightened. “That’s not-”

“And maybe-” He cut in calmly. “You should have an open mind. To people other than Gavin.”

The words settled between us, stretching with heavy silence. I already knew what he meant. Or at least… who.

But I asked anyway. “Like who?”

His eyes locked onto mine.

The air around us felt charged and heated, like a live wire that had stretched too tight.

His eyes locked onto mine and I couldn’t look away.

There was something in them, steady, unblinking, intense enough to make my pulse stutter. The world around us faded into background noise. The laughter. The clinking bottles. The low hum of engines outside.

It was just him waiting. Like he didn’t need to say the word, like he wanted me to realize it on my own.

“Well look at that timing.” Aunty Pam’s cheerful voice cut clean through the moment.

I jerked back slightly, blinking away the trance.

She set down a large tray in front of us. French toast stacked high and dusted with powdered sugar with crispy bacon and plumpest looking sausages. Two mugs of coffee and tall glass of orange juice.

The mouthwatering aroma hit me. It was incredible, far better than anything I had expected from a biker clubhouse.

“Thank you.” I thanked her and she winked at me, leaving the both of us.

“Eat.” Scott commanded bluntly.

He lifted his coffee first, taking a slow sip before cutting neatly into the French toast. Chewing quietly while taking his time to savor his meal, unlike Gavin’s wolfish, competitive approach to food.

The comparison hit before I could stop it and I mentally smacked myself. Stop comparing them, June…

I grabbed the orange juice and took a few large gulps, partly because I was thirsty and partly because my face still felt warm, then I dove into the sausage and French toast.

“Oh my God…” I breathed after the first bite. “This is so good.”

Scott only smirked faintly, chewing slowly as he watched me devour half the plate like I hadn’t eaten in days. “I usually eat here.” He started casually.

I blinked, brows furrowing.

He continued. “I come for Pam’s cooking.”

That caught my attention immediately. “I thought you lived here?” I admitted.

A small crease formed between his brows, shaking his head. “No.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I’ve got a loft a few minutes away. I prefer privacy.”

A loft?

I stared at him, stunned that he actually owned a loft. Just how much money was he making from the gang?

Before I could ask, he added calmly. “That’s where you’ll be staying.”

I choked, literally coughed into my orange juice. “What?” I sputtered, grabbing the glass again. “I’m not sharing a room with you.”

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. “It’s a two-bedroom-” He confirmed with amusement in his eyes. “-With a garage. It’s spacious enough for two people to live comfortably.”

He leaned back slightly. “Relax. I know you’re not ready to see me naked just yet.”

My face went up in flames. “I wasn’t thinking about that!” I hissed.

His smirk deepened. “Sure.”

I focused very hard on my plate.

He continued, tone calmer now, explaining. “The clubhouse is where we hang out. Meetings. Business. Some of the guys have quarters upstairs. We also own the Hellfire strip club downtown, and a few of the members live separately.”

I nodded slowly, processing everything.

This wasn’t just some reckless biker gang, it was organized, structured and profitable…something that impressed me.

I stifled a yawn, but failed as food coma began to tango with my sleep deprivation all at once. I hadn’t slept properly in over twenty-four hours.

Scott noticed immediately. “It’s time to leave.” He said, standing and grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair.

My brows furrowed as I blinked through the tears from yawning. “For what?”

“To take you home.”