Don’t Poke the Luna Chapter 10

Xena’s POV

Ryder and I carefully removed all the masking tape from the motorcycle. Ama emerged from the bathroom, and I had to do a double-take. She wore a dress with ruched ties on the side that hugged her curves so tightly it barely covered her ass.

William let out an appreciative "Damn," and I exchanged an amused glance with Ryder.

Ama struck a pose, tossing her dirty blonde curls over her shoulder. "Pretty impressive, huh?" she said, striking a pose, confidence radiating from her every move.

I wish I had half her confidence sometimes, I thought, though I'd never admit it aloud.

"My hair doesn't seem curly enough,"She muttered to herself, then walked into the bathroom and picked up her curling iron to style her hair.

With a resigned smile, I grabbed my flashlight to inspect the paint job one final time, moving the beam slowly across the surface to check for any imperfections. The finish was flawless—smooth and even throughout.

"Nice," I murmured, unable to contain my satisfaction at a job well done.

I switched off the flashlight and turned to Ryder. "We're good."

"That's fucking awesome," William said, admiration clear in his voice as he circled the bike.

"Thank you, William," I replied, allowing myself a small smile of pride.

Ryder hadn't spoken, but his eyes were fixed on the motorcycle, taking in every detail of the custom paint job. His intense focus felt like a compliment all its own.

I started cleaning up the scattered supplies from the floor. "We'll do the exhaust and suspension upgrades next time."

"Can we do Wednesday?" Ryder asked, finally tearing his gaze away from the bike.

I mentally reviewed my schedule before nodding. "Should work. The parts I ordered should be in by then." I walked over to my appointment book and penciled him in.

William nudged Ryder with his elbow, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Helen's probably going to be begging you to take her for a ride."

The image of Helen sitting behind Ryder, arms wrapped around his waist, immediately popped into my head. Just like that, my good mood evaporated. I felt an unexpected surge of irritation at the thought.

"Keep her away from this bike," I warned, voice sharper than I intended. "I don't want my work ruined. If anything gets damaged, repairs will cost extra."

Ryder's expression remained neutral as he replied with a simple, "Noted," before heading toward the door with William.

"Fucking men," I muttered under my breath once they were gone, continuing to clean up the shop.

"Alright girl. Let's get you cleaned up!" Ama exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement as she dragged me toward the bathroom.

"I'm your doll," I conceded with an eye roll, though secretly, I enjoyed these moments. I'd never tell her, but being pampered sometimes felt nice.

Ama unbraided my hair, using nearly an entire can of dry shampoo and hair gel to tame my natural curls into something that framed my face perfectly. The dress she'd brought fit like a second skin, just long enough to cover my ass, with a neckline that made my chest look amazing.

She playfully squeezed my breast, grinning wickedly. "I'm so jealous of your watermelons."

I rolled my eyes again, though a smile tugged at the corner of my lips. "You’ve got your own assets, Ama. Focus on those."

She shrugged, completely unbothered. "True, but yours are better." She stepped back, admiring her handiwork. "You look stunning. Now, let's get you out there and make everyone regret not noticing you sooner."

I couldn’t help but laugh, feeling the warmth of her confidence settle around me. "You really know how to boost my ego, huh?"

She winked. "That’s what best friends are for."

Glancing at her phone for the tenth time, Ama groaned in frustration. "Where are those guys?"

"Maybe they're primping too," I joked, sitting down and opening the takeout box Dad had dropped off. Inside was the usual burger and fries from the diner in town. No one at home ever cooked for me, so this was as close to a home-cooked meal as I got.

"Don't mess up my makeup," Ama warned, pointing a threatening finger at me.

"Yes, sir," I replied sarcastically, taking a massive bite of my burger. The meat patty was already cold, but I was too hungry to care.

I'd barely made it halfway through my meal when the guys walked in.

Logan was dressed all in black, looking every bit the future Alpha. Leonard wore a blue silk shirt paired with black pants, while Samuel had opted for a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his muscular forearms. Keira was there too, stunning in a red satin dress that complemented Logan's outfit perfectly.

"Wow, boys, you clean up nice," Ama commented with obvious appreciation.

Leonard preened at the compliment. "You too, Ama. You've already got my blood pumping."

"Roll up your sleeves," Ama suggested to Leonard, eyeing his arms.

"Help me?" Leonard asked, extending his arms toward her with a flirtatious smile.

Samuel leaned against my counter, his gray eyes lingering on my chest. The tension between us was palpable.

"See something you like?" I teased, meeting his gaze directly.

"Maybe," he replied, his voice low and husky.

Logan approached the counter then, but I wasn't worried about him overhearing. He's used to the flirting between Samuel and me by now. He probably knows we hook up occasionally, but we've never talked about it.

"Looks like the paint job is done. Looks good," Logan observed, clearly noticing Ryder's Harley sitting in the shop. "More modifications to come?"

I grabbed a Coke from the mini-fridge, popped it open one-handed, and took a swig before answering. "Still need to do the exhaust and suspension."

Ten minutes later, I balled up my napkin and tossed it into the empty container. "I'm done eating. Let's go!" I announced, carrying my trash to the bin and wiping down the table with a wet napkin. On my way out, I grabbed my ID and keys from the drawer behind the counter.

Although I didn't actually need ID. I handed mine to Logan anyway. He tucked it into his wallet while Leonard took Ama's.

After locking up the shop, I jogged to the dumpster in my heels. "Holy shit, these heels are killing me!" I complained as we all piled into the SUV.

The club was actually owned by Logan and me, though we operated under different names. No one knew for sure that we were the owners, which was exactly how we wanted it.

We'd built it on human territory, making it neutral ground where all packs could gather. We had strict rules against fighting, so aside from the occasional drunk troublemaker, it was a peaceful place.

The valet approached as we pulled up, and Logan handed him the keys.

My red-sole heels clicked rhythmically against the pavement until we reached the carpeted entrance. The bouncer was from our pack, but in public, protocol required formality.

"Sir Logan, Miss Xena," he greeted us with a respectful nod, stepping aside to let us enter.

Music pounded through the speakers as we entered the dimly lit corridor. The hallway opened onto a balcony overlooking the dance floor, which was already crowded despite the early hour.

To our right was a staircase leading up to the VIP rooms, and to our left was the bar and stairs leading down. The lower level housed the main bar, dance floor, and a game room equipped with pool tables and a few arcade machines.

Ama and I lingered on the balcony, surveying the sea of bodies moving below. Logan and Leonard headed straight for the bar, Keira trailing behind them.

Samuel stood beside us, his imposing presence making him look like a damn bodyguard.

"This place is busy!" I shouted over the music, feeling a rush of excitement.

"I know! I need a drink first," Ama yelled back, already moving toward the VIP area.

We followed Samuel up to our reserved VIP room, where our drinks were already waiting. Ama had her usual vodka cranberry, while I went for Jack and Dr. Pepper. The guys all ordered whiskey neat.

Ama and I stood at the VIP balcony, watching the people dancing below. The energy of the club was intoxicating, making me feel alive in a way I rarely did at home or school.

I felt a pair of hands settle on my hips, and Samuel's warm breath tickled my ear as he whispered, "Ready to dance?"