Page 59 of Riding Free

Hippie clears his throat, rocking back on his heels. “Maybe next time?”

I can tell he wants to partake, likely because every single woman who stepped off that truck was a complete fucking knockout. I don’t blame him, really. We part ways, I climb into the driver’s seat of the truck, and as much as I want to head straight back home, I decide we need some rest and recovery.

“We’re heading to the Tacoma chapter. We need some fucking sleep,” I announce.

Hippie clears his throat, and for a moment, I think he might tell me to head to the Russian’s strip club, but instead, he sits up a little higher in his seat. “Rest, a good orgasm, some food, a joint, and some sleep.”

“Something like that,” I mutter.

I won’t get the good O, but the rest is on the table for me, and I’m fucking ready for it. We can go back to Boulder City tomorrow. But for tonight, we’re going to chill with our West Coast brothers.

CHAPTER

FORTY-FIVE

KEELY

My phone buzzes in my hand. I don’t even know why I'm holding it. I’ve had so many messages between my mother, father, Briar, and Clare that it’s become an intrusive device, and yet, I can’t let go.

Maybe I kind of like the attention? Or maybe I’m just that addicted to it. I’m not sure, but here it is, in my hand, and as much as I’m trying to follow Two-Pump’s advice from the other day, I’m not sure I can just say fuck ’em.

Even though that is exactly what I want to do.

Chewing on the corner of my bottom lip, I can’t help but wonder when Brock is going to be coming home… or back here. Whatever it’s called, I don’t know. All I know is that I miss him. The few texts we’ve exchanged haven’t been nearly enough.

I look down to my phone and blink once, twice, three times before it registers to me who is actually texting. It’s not anyone I expect, which surprises me. Finding his name in my list of contacts, I decide to call him instead of responding to his text.

Shifting my gaze over to Thea, I smile as she sleeps soundly in her bassinet. She doesn’t care that the music is loud in the bar below us. Nothing bothers her. She’s more than happy to sleep safely in her little home we’ve made for her here.

“You’re calling me,” his voice murmurs.

I laugh softly, clearing my throat before I speak. “I didn’t want to text.”

He hums but doesn’t respond to me. He waits for me to continue, knowing that I’ll tell him everything, and I do. He knows me better than anyone. He spent sixteen years under the same roof as me. His bedroom beside mine and his seat at the dining table next to mine as well.

“I’m sure Mom and Dad called you, but we’re okay. I promise.”

“They did,” he says. “I never doubted you were okay for a single second,” he states.

I smile at his words. It makes my heart swell that he says that to me. Camden and I haven’t ever been close. Our parents never facilitated a close relationship between us. We lived with one another.

We hardly fought, but we were not close. Then we both moved away, and it was easy to just… let everything go. Kind of like how I let my relationship with my parents go, too. Although I came to visit much more than he has.

“I did want to offer my help, for both you and Thea.”

“Your help?” I ask.

My spine straightens, and I don’t have a choice but to sit straight up because I’m shocked by his offer, but I’m also wondering why the hell he would offer it in the first place. I open my mouth to ask him just that when he continues.

“It’s nothing about what Mom and Dad said. You know I don’t give two fucks about what they think. I just want you to know you have options.”

“Camden,” I whisper, my eyes welling with tears.

It’s very sweet.

He’s very sweet, and I don’t think there’s ever been a time when my brother has been… well, brotherly. He’s never needed to protect me, and I’ve never needed him to, either.

He clears his throat, and I suck in a breath, holding it before he speaks. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to rely on our parents or a man, unless you want him. I haven’t been a very present brother, but I’ll do whatever you need, Keely. Money is no object. I have a two-bedroom apartment, and I don’t need an at-home office. One room is yours.”