Page 9 of Tempted By Shadow

“You know,” I say, leaning back in my chair, “most guys would be falling over themselves to make conversation. Trying to impress me. Telling me stories about how tough they are, how important they are to the club.”

“I’m not most guys.”

“No shit.” I take a sip of my terrible coffee just to have something to do. “So what’s the deal? You always this quiet around women, or am I special?”

His jaw tightens. Just a little, but I catch it. “I’m quiet around everyone.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

He doesn’t answer. Just looks at me with that steady, unreadable expression that makes me want to poke at him until something cracks.

“What would King say if he knew you were here?” I press. “Drinking coffee in his sister’s apartment. Alone. At night.”

The muscle in his jaw ticks again. “He wouldn’t like it.”

“No, he wouldn’t.” I set my mug down. “So why are you still here?”

Silence stretches between us. I can see him working through it. The question, the implications, all the ways this could go wrong. He’s not stupid. He knows exactly what’s happening here. The same thing I know.

I should stop this. I know I should. Whatever’s building between us is a disaster waiting to happen. He’s my brother’s prospect. His entire future depends on King’s approval. And I’m the fuckup who just crawled home from Vegas with nothing to show for two years except poor decisions and an empty bank account.

This is a terrible idea. I know that. Shadow has everything to lose — the patch, King’s trust, his entire future in the club. And what do I have to offer? A shitty apartment and a track record of picking men who don’t pick me back.

Tyler chose drugs. In the end, when it came down to it, he chose getting high over staying with me. Over building the life we’d talked about. Over everything he’d promised.

And Shadow — if it comes down to it, he’ll choose the patch. The club. My brother. Why wouldn’t he? That’s his whole life. That’s everything he’s worked for. I’m just the President’s sister who happened to catch his eye.

I’m not the kind of woman men choose. Not when it counts.

“You should probably go,” I hear myself say. “King’s expecting a report, right? You should tell him I’m fine. Settling in. Not getting into any trouble.”

I expect relief. I expect him to jump at the excuse, grab his jacket, and get the hell out of here before either of us does something we can’t take back.

Instead, something flickers across his face. Not relief — the opposite. Like I just said the wrong thing. Like he was about to make himself leave, and now, somehow, he can’t.

He doesn’t move.

“Shadow.”

“Yeah.”

“I said you should go.”

“I heard you.”

“And?”

He looks at me, and there’s nothing guarded about his expression anymore. Nothing careful or controlled. Just want raw and undisguised, and the kind of tension that tells me he’s fighting himself as hard as I am.

“I’m not ready to leave yet,” he says.

My heart is doing something stupid. Racing, pounding, whatever you want to call it — the kind of physical reaction I swore I wasn’t going to have over another man. Especially not one of King’s guys. Especially not now, when I’m supposed to be getting my shit together and proving I can make it on my own.

“That’s a bad idea,” I say.

“I know.”

“King would kill you.”