Page 17 of Bones

But what that fucker doesn’t know yet is that she is mine.

And he’s right.

When I want something, I am like a dog with a bone.

MEREDITH

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine being stuck in the middle of nowhere in a cabin with two sexy-as-hell bikers, but here we are. There’s tension between them, and the whole situation is bizarre.

When Nate steps out to take a phone call, Pyro quickly starts to question me.

“Do you want to be here?” he asks, running his hand through his beard.

Do I? If you asked me yesterday, I would have said hell, no, but some small part of me doesn’t want to leave him. I like watching him, listening to him, and trying to figure out how his brain works. He’s also not bad to look at, and I’ve been appreciating the view as much as I can.

“Yeah, I mean, We were going back tomorrow,” Is all I can manage, not really knowing how to explain this messed-up Stockholm situation I’ve found myself in.

The truth?

I like Nate.

A little too much.

And I know I shouldn’t.

He clearly has issues, but I like the way he listens to me when I talk, hanging on to every word.

I like the way he makes me feel.

More than anything, I like how comfortable I feel with him. There’s a connection and chemistry there that I think I’d like to explore.

Pyro reaches up to play with a lock of my hair. “He didn’t tell anyone where he was going, and his brother was worried about him. Did you two plan this trip?”

“No,” I admit, wincing. “But I know I’m safe with him. Is that why you asked me if I knew any bikers?”

He nods, a muscle working in his jaw. “I saw Bones parked outside the shelter.”

“Stalker,” I mutter, and Pyro shakes his head in exasperation. “And you still want him?”

I don’t know what the hell I want.

Nate—or should I start calling him Bones now?—steps back into the room and takes in the closeness between us. His blue eyes burn with anger. “Pyro, outside. Now.”

“I think I’ve outstayed my welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks, watching me closely.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

He presses a soft kiss to my forehead and then gets up and leaves.

Am I making the right choice here?

I know I should probably leave with Pyro, but my gut is telling me to stay.

Nate steps back into the room, his eyes going straight to me. “Should I call you Bones now? Does anyone else call you Nate?”

“No one has called me Nate since I patched in at eighteen,” he admits, sitting down next to me. “But I like you calling me that. I want you to call me Nate. No one else knows me by that name, other than my brother.”

“Nate it is,” I murmur, sitting next to him. The mood has been dampened a little, with Pyro bringing a heavy dose of reality with him.