Until July

Author: P Hana

Page 14


Wes steps toward me and pulls me into him, tucking my head under his chin.

“I was talking to her about going there when you showed up. I told you I had her, and I do.” I hear and feel Wes rumble as he speaks.

“Why was she there?” Jax asks.

“Someone’s been leaving dogs outside the hospital that have been fought. She followed a guy from there to the bar last night.”

“You think Snake is in on it?” Jax asks, and I turn my head against Wes’ chest to look at Jax.

“Not sure, but I wouldn’t doubt it,” Wes tells him.

“You’re not seeing him?” Jax asks doubtfully as his eyes sweep over us, and I realize my arms have wound themselves around Wes, my cheek is pressed to his chest, and one of his arms is wrapped around me, with the other hand cradling the back of my head.

“What’s going on between July and me has nothing to do with you.”

“Whatever you say, Silver. You have no idea the kind of men my dad and uncles are.”

“I’ve dated before.” I frown, stepping away from Wes while defending myself. Not that it matters, I reminded myself. I’m not dating Wes, but still. Yes, my dad is overprotective, but he accepts I’m not a little girl—or I should say my mom talks him down every time he forgets I’m not a child anymore.

“You have,” he agrees then looked at Wes, “just not a guy like him.”

Okay, so he had a point, but I was done. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“I do, but before I can go do my job, I needed to come over here and rein you in.”

“Well, now you can leave,” I tell him, opening the door and sweeping my hand for him to walk out.

“If she gets into any trouble, I’m holding you accountable,” Jax tells Wes as he walks through the door.

“Bye.” I roll my eyes and shut the door, coming face-to-face with Wes, who is smiling.

“You want to finish breakfast and go for a ride with me?”

“A ride?” I ask suspiciously, and his lips tilt up farther.

“Just a ride.”

I study him for a moment, and just like every time he’s near, my gut is pulling me toward him, telling me that if I miss out on the promise of him, I will regret it. “Sure,” I agree, ignoring my brain, which is roaring at me that I have just changed the course of life as I know it.

Chapter 5

I hold onto Wes’ waist and memories from today wash over me. After we finished breakfast, I went and got dressed in a pair of jeans, my high-top Chucks, and a black tank top. When I walked into the living room, Wes was sitting on my couch with Juice and Capone, who had somehow became best friends. Seeing them all sitting there together made everything stop.

As a little girl, I told myself that my Prince Charming would love to ride motorcycles, have a soft spot for animals, and be strong like my father. When I got older, I realized I would have a better chance of finding the Holy Grail than the man I envisioned spending the rest of my life with.

I didn’t know much about Wes yet, but I did know he was gorgeous, when his arms wrapped around me when I was crying, I felt sheltered, he loved riding, and he had a soft spot for animals. So far, he had more going for him than men I thought would be my perfect match.

Wes’ hand coming to rest on top of mine lying against his stomach brings me out of my thoughts, and I feel that strange feeling in my chest again, the one that somehow makes me feel like I’m connected to him in a way that goes beyond this lifetime. When the bike starts to slow, I pull my face away from his back and look around, realizing we arrived at his clubhouse.

Earlier today, we dropped off Capone and his truck at his place, which was about ten minutes from my house. He lived in one of the newer apartment buildings in town. My friend Ken lives in the same building, so I know the kitchens are open, with granite and stainless steel, and the rooms are all large enough that you don’t feel like you are in an apartment. When we arrived at his place, I declined going inside and waited near his bike. He took Capone inside and came back out a few minutes later with his helmet.

He told me he didn’t have anything in mind for the day, just that he wanted to ride, and I was completely okay with that. The sun was out, and there was a nice breeze in the air. Plus, I liked the idea of being wrapped around him.

After an hour of riding around on the back country roads, he pulled over to a small white shack that was set up along the highway, the sign out front offering homemade frozen custard. We got off the bike, and he didn’t get anything for himself, but ordered me a cone and stole occasional bites as we sat under an umbrella, eating and laughing. I had the best time with him; more fun than I’ve ever had with a guy I was interested in.

I’ve had three boyfriends. One was my high school boyfriend, the guy I gave my virginity to. He was sweet, but when I went to college, we lost contact. He still lives in town, but we don’t speak. My second boyfriend was in college. He was a pre-med student who I realized was more interested in the image of having a girlfriend than actually having a girlfriend. We never even kissed, and truthfully, I think he may have been hiding his sexuality from his parents. Then there was my last boyfriend, Harvey. He was nice enough, but he was also boring…so boring that I could actually tell you what he would say before he’d say anything, and I never even bothered asking him what he wanted to do, because it was always the same.

Wes…he’s nothing like the men I’ve dated. None of them would ride a motorcycle, get a tattoo, or live a life where they picked up and move to another state because they liked the feel of a town they drove through. None of my exes made me feel as comfortable as Wes did. None of them made me feel the way Wes made me feel. Just one look from him had my skin feeling too hot and my belly dipping.

After we ate custard, he asked me if I wanted to go to a club party with him. I have been to parties, sure, but partying with bikers was not something I had ever done. But I hated the idea of missing out on time with him, so I agreed, and he dropped me off at home so I could get dressed. He came back an hour later to pick me up.

When I opened the door to my house, I found him on the other side wearing his normal black boots, a pair of jeans that look like they were washed one too many times, the cuffs and pockets fraying, and a black shirt that fits him like a second skin, with his cut over it. His hair looked like it always does, messy, and his green eyes grew darker as they made their way back up my body.

That one look shot a thrill through me. I did my hair big, like I did on our first date, but this time, instead of simple makeup, I went with smoky eyes and a light lip that made me feel like a vixen. I chose my blue jeans that were so dark they almost looked black. I cuffed the bottom and paired them with peep-toed booties and a simple tank and one of my big chunky necklaces that made the outfit look dressier than it actually was.