Page 18 of Fly's Path

Mutts off the side of the road will love you forever…if you can afford to feed them.

“What if Winnie is right? What if he’s not a nice man?”

“There’s a difference between being nice and good. What you need to figure out first is if he’s really a good man.” Not many of those exist. “Then, when you decide he is, believe him when he says you’re a princess, because all of us know that.”

Piper stares out into the open field for a long moment. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. That’s what friends are for.”

“And Kissing Pacts.” Piper can’t quite reach an evil level, but it’s clear she’s teasing. “So are you going to join in? I can’t remember you ever going on a single date, let alone talking about a guy seriously.”

“That’s because I need to focus on my career right now.”

“A guy won’t stop you from meeting your goals. Especially not in our field. He’ll inspire you. He’ll make you dream bigger than you ever thought you could before. Think about it…and maybe give the pact a try, even if it’s just for fun. I mean, who wouldn’t want to kiss one of those bikers?” Piper gives me a quick hug and walks away, leaving the bar on the ground.

Don’t pick it up.

You aren’t starving.

You have all the food you need.

You can buy more.

But all the hungry little kid in me sees is uneaten food. It’s not like I can leave it there. We’re guests. We don’t want to litter this compound…I think that’s what Rogue called it. He also called it a clubhouse, but this is bigger than any clubhouse I’ve ever seen.

I sink down and pick up the forgotten food. A single wasted bar isn’t the end of the world.

“Are you lost?” a husky voice says from a few feet away.

Did he see me pick it up?

Does he know I was tempted to eat it? He can’t. Everything is just fine. “Yeah. I just needed a little fresh air.”

Turning towards him, I freeze…that hair…that face…the messy-looking stubble… “You look familiar, but I could swear we’ve never met before.”

“We met, but it doesn’t surprise me that you don’t remember when. You were quite drunk that night.”

Drunk? I almost never get…“Dahlia’s pre-bachelorette. You were at the dive bar. The fight…You pushed me behind the bar when that crazy fight broke out.”

“Yeah, I did.” He walks over, resting his thumbs in his belt loops.

Normally, a studded black leather belt makes a guy look like he’s trying too hard to be something he’s not, but somehow it just feels cool and natural on this guy.

Stop staring at his belt. He’s going to think you’re pervy. “Thank you. That was very kind of you.”

“Nothing kind about it. We were paid to protect your group, so that's what we did.”

Whoa…that was frank. “If we had known, we would have tried to make your jobs easier.”

“No, you wouldn’t have. I’ve never seen a group so determined to have fun and put themselves at risk.”

We did have fun. “The risk part wasn’t planned.”

“Sure, you just happened to think a dive bar would be a fun place to walk into drunk and disorderly.” He grins like he won the battle.

Which, to be fair, he kind of did. “Most of the group didn’t know what a dive bar was before that night.”

“Most, but some of you did?”