Page 21 of Riot’s Revenge

As we headed toward the clubhouse doors, my eyes dropped automatically toward Reaper’s ribs when he moved stiffly beside me. “You behaving yourself at least?”

Reaper looked genuinely offended by the question. “Maria, sweetheart, look around. Does this place scream ‘safe recovery environment’ to you?”

Ghost nearly folded laughing beside him. “Jesus Christ, she’s using the nurse voice on him again.”

“You’re supposed to be resting,” I pointed out. “Those ribs aren’t healed.”

“Yeah, well,” Reaper muttered while pulling the clubhouse door open, “turns out biker clubs aren’t huge on bed rest.”

“I noticed.”

The second I stepped inside, the noise hit me full force. Music blasted through the clubhouse while men crowded around pool tables and the bar, drinking, shouting, and laughing over each other. The air smelled of smoke, whiskey and leather. Then the room started going quiet. Not completely silent, but just enough that I noticed heads turning toward me one by one.

Wonderful.

Ghost looked delighted by my discomfort. “Oh, this is better than television.”

“Shut up.”

Ghost yelled, “Riot! Your girl’s here!”

My entire face burned instantly, and I fought the urge to turn and run out of there. “Oh my god,” I muttered under my breath while laughter erupted around the room.

Riot appeared from near the back hallway. His expression was already irritated, like someone had pissed him off, but the second his eyes landed on me, that irritation disappeared. His gaze moved slowly over my soaked clothes and wet hair before narrowing slightly. “The fuck are you doing out in this weather?”

I folded my arms. “Maybe trying to retrieve the phone you stole from me?”

Riot opened his mouth, then closed it. He shoved a hand into his kutte pocket before huffing out a quiet laugh under his breath. “Right, thought it felt heavier.”

Ghost looked seconds away from passing out laughing. “You actually stole her phone after fucking her? That’s incredible.”

“Romantic as shit,” Reaper added.

Riot flipped both of them off without looking away from me as he crossed the room. The closer he got, the more aware I became of everyone watching us. Watching him, watching me. Watching the way Riot stopped directly in front of me. One hand lifted automatically, pushing damp strands of hair back from my face before he even seemed to realize he was doing it.

“You’re freezing,” he muttered, brows pulling together slightly.

I ignored the way my stomach flipped at that and held my hand out instead. “My phone.”

He pulled my phone from his pocket and held it out, his eyes flicking to the screen. “Battery’s almost dead.”

I grabbed it from him. “You could’ve brought it back.”

“You could’ve called the club,” he said.

“With what phone?”

A few brothers nearby laughed.

Riot’s mouth twitched. “Fair point.”

I shoved the phone into my hoodie pocket. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah,” he said easily, “but you still came all the way down here for me.”

Heat climbed straight back into my face. “I came for my phone.”

“Sure, you did.”