Page 21 of York & Goldie

“No?”

“We can’t pretend you didn’t say what you did.”

Narrowing my eyes, I pointed out, “Well, you said things, too.”

“Yeah, but I already knew the things I said. I didn’t know what you said. Now that I do, I can’t pretend you’re only a chick I hook up with twice a month.”

“What other choice do we have?”

“I don’t know, but our secret is out. You and I are stuck now. Other people know. We can’t pretend otherwise.”

“Well, I feel like I want to pretend.”

“That’s just the medication. Once your head is clear, you’ll be practical.”

I tried to sit up in the bed, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. Frustrated now, I frowned at York and struggled to whip up my inner bitch.

“How are we stuck? What does that even mean?”

“You and I are intertwined now. We’re stuck together.”

“I refuse to give up anything for you.”

York grinned at my sneer. “When I was riding north to find you, I made myself feel your death. I imagined your body being too well hidden to find. I faced my grief. Now that I’ve gotten another chance, I’ve chosen not to lose you again.”

Unsteadily pointing my finger at his face, I growled, “Don’t you dare be romantic when I’m too weak to deny you.”

“Huh, you are too weak, aren’t you?” he said and leaned down to press his lips against mine.

I wanted to shove him away and go back to how things were before the SUV smashed into me. But York was right. I’d confessed my feelings. Not only to him but to Boone and my parents. The foxes likely knew, too.

For months, my secret had been hanging on by a thread. The foxes already knew I had a regular hookup. I’d never been with the same guy for so long. My mystery was clearly someone special, and they were bound to track me eventually to learn his identity.

No longer fighting my weakness, I kissed York and gave up on the fantasy of shoving the genie back into the bottle.

YORK

The state cops descended upon the scene, moving like their asses were on fire. Zodiac once claimed the Crimson Guard owned various law enforcement and politicians including the governor. When the club had a problem, important people rallied to fix it.

Lula stuck to me like glue, only allowing me to give the detectives short, vague answers. For hours, the cops took a million pictures, claimed the bodies, and checked over the vehicles. They were curious about the missing vehicle, having noticed Hal’s tire prints.

I wasn’t allowed to explain that part. Lula insisted I claim that I couldn’t see who else had been out there. My version of events left out Hal and was extra vague about how I found Goldie in the first place. In a normal investigation, the holes in my story would raise concerns. With the cops in the bag for the Crimson Guard, the less I said, the easier it was for them to smooth over the inconsistencies.

Hours passed, and the sun finally rose after a long, chilly night. I was dying to get to Goldie. Clint offered regular updates about her condition. She was scheduled for surgery on her Achilles tendon. The doctors believed she would be well enough to go home today.

Finally, Lula’s uncle Donnie checked over my ride and gave me the go-ahead to ride to Little Memphis. Clint said their helicopter was returning to pick up Lula and him when they were finished.

Exhausted on my ride to Little Memphis, I replayed what happened in my head. Each time, I wished I had kissed Goldie goodbye. As I got closer to the Blairsville exit, my edginess faded. Soon, I could share a room with Goldie again.

Once at the hospital, I was bothered by how fragile Goldie looked wrapped up in bed. The bruises from her accident had risen, leaving the right side of her face a disturbing blue and purple. Her gaze held the dullness I’d seen in other people with concussions. She reacted slowly to everything I said, despite sounding like we were having a normal conversation.

I wasn’t surprised when Goldie tried to walk back her feelings. Facing death had ripped away her armor. In the darkness, she had been scared, and I was her hero bringing her home. Of course, she said things she wouldn’t have shared otherwise.

But we couldn’t return to a secret relationship. Only our stubborn natures had insisted we go for so long with only bi-monthly hookups. With life having forced our hand, I was ready for the next step.

That was why I didn’t want to leave her side. For months, I’d forced myself to behave like a man with zero desire in more than sex. I feared any clinginess on my part might inspire Goldie to lose my number.

Now, I was taking the training wheels off this relationship and riding it to the end with this woman. That meant staying with her when she was vulnerable.