Page 7 of Riding Free

FROM: Hound

I’m going to get fucking punched in the face for this shit, I know I am. I’ll just have to brace and accept it. Because I don’t have time to take it back. And I can’t show up empty-handed like a complete asshole.

Picking the now-bagged item up by the handles, I turn to Hippie. “I’m ready for this bullshit,” I announce.

He chuckles, no doubt feeling the same way. I didn’t know men went to this kind of shit. I think the only saving grace is that it’s at a pool and I’m positive there will be food and beer.

The two of us head out of the clubhouse. We’re going to the pool at Elodie and Wrath’s place, which seems to be where we hold all events. We used to do everything at the clubhouse, but I like that we can get out of there sometimes.

Tossing the gift bag into my saddlebag, I climb onto my bike and start the engine. It doesn’t take us long to reach Elodie’s condo complex. Hippie pulls in behind me. Killing my engine, I throw my leg over my bike and grab the bag from the saddlebag before I move toward the pool area.

The party is in full swing by the time I arrive. I don’t know why I’m even here. I should have stayed at the clubhouse and then just sent my gift over here to avoid Dare’s reaction, which I know is going to be bad. There’s just no way around it.

The music is cranked up, ’90s alternative rock. Not a bad choice, though. Elodie appears in front of me the moment I set my bag on the gift table. She points at the bag before she speaks.

“What did you get her?” she demands.

My brows shoot up high, my gaze focused on hers. I start to ask her why she gives a shit. But then I realize that she’s probably just excited and wants to make sure that the day is perfect for Chassis.

The party is in full swing, and for whatever reason, I decide that it’s fun. Maybe it’s because there’s beer and no clubwhores—heavy on the no-clubwhores thing. I’ve been trying to keep my distance from Minty, but she seems to constantly find me, and, well… I’m only a man, a single one—I never proclaimed to be a good one.

“I picked something off her list,” I grind out.

Elodie’s eyes widen, then she leans forward before she whisper-yells over the music. “The breast pump?” she hisses.

I know my face turns red. It has to. There is just no way that it doesn’t. Elodie’s lips curve up into a grin. “Holy shit, this is great,” she mutters. “Dare’s gonna kick your ass.”

“Why did you even put it on there?” I demand.

She shrugs a shoulder. “I kind of wanted to see if anyone would buy it. But also, there are women invited, so I figured one of them could get it.”

Curling my lip, I shake my head once. “Well, I didn’t look at the goddamn list. I just picked something. Now I got this gift that Dare’s gonna want to kick my ass for. Thanks,” I grunt.

Elodie rolls her eyes to the ceiling of the arbor. “She also gets a discount on anything not purchased from her list. I figured if one of the girls didn’t buy it, then she could at least get a discount.”

“Well, now she doesn’t have to worry about that. Jesus fucking Christ, babe.”

Elodie laughs softly, lifting her hand to my chest and patting me there. “You’ll survive,” she murmurs before she turns around and walks away.

Reaching for a beer in the cooler, I crack it open and down half the contents in one gulp. I have a feeling I’m going to need a few of these to get through this shit.

CHAPTER

FIVE

KEELY

Well, Clare had every reason to be concerned for me at this party. I shouldn't have come. She tried to warn me without warning me, though, and I’m a bit disappointed that she wasn’t just truthful with me.

It’s not just that this party is a birth announcement, because it’s very much that. It’s also a gender reveal at the same time. Which is whatever. I don’t care about that, but what is somewhat bothersome is the fact that my ex-boyfriend is here with his new wife.

It shouldn’t bother me. I haven’t thought about him in years, but as he stands across the room from me, his wife pressing herself against his side while they hold their new baby, I can’t help but think about the past. It’s their third child. The other two aren’t here, but I know they exist.

One of them is ten years old.

The baby his wife got pregnant with when he and I were still together. She told him the day before prom. He told me that night, and they went to prom together while I stayed home. That was the night I looked for a career as far away as possible. That was the night I applied for massage therapy school in California. I moved away the day after graduation, much to my parents’ protest.

And now they’re standing in front of me, ten years later, a perfect little family of five, and I’m holding my three-month-old who doesn’t have a father—I don’t even know his real name. Thea fusses slightly, and I tear my focus away from the happy couple to look at her.