Falling For The Biker: The Vice President's Girl Chapter 42

Wren

The clubhouse is in full swing by the time Ezra and I make it out of his car.

Red cups litter the yard, loud music thrums through my chest, and the familiar scent of whiskey, leather, and smoke settles in my lungs.

"Did I tell you red is your colour?" Ezra says, voice low, as we walk slowly through the yard.

I smile, looking down at the thigh-length dress I'm wearing. "Yes, more than five times tonight. How's the hickey, though?"

My fingers gently graze the spot, careful not to smudge the make-up.

"Not visible enough," he grunts. And I actually laugh at that, but it dies when Ray walks up to us, two red cups in his hands.

He raises a brow. "Did I just see you laughing with Ezra?"

"You did." Ezra chuckles, eyes tight as he pulls Ray into a brief bro-hug. "She's coming around now."

"So, you're friends now?"

I nod. "We are."

Ezra tenses beside me but quickly relaxes. "Well, I wouldn't say friends...but we're getting along with less hostility."

I try not to get offended at that. He's right, we're not friends. We're just two people that want to fuck each other's brains out.

"It's good." Ray grins, handing Ezra one of the cups then hooks an arm around my neck. "Chirp, guess who's here?"

"Quincy?"

"Yup! She's inside though, we're not staying long." He tugs me away from Ezra, but I look over at him anyway.

Ezra tips his cup to me, and takes a sip. I glare, facing front while Ray greets almost everyone.

"Wren!" Torch shouts when he sees me, pausing his ridiculous dance with Lizzy as they both approach us.

"Red definitely suits you," he says.

Lizzy giggles, eyes glazed and clearly tipsy. "You look good, Wren. Ezra's taking care of you, isn't he?"

"W-wha—Lizzy!" My cheeks burn and I look over at Ray, grateful to find him laughing with one of the guys.

He is, but when she puts it like that, there's a double meaning.

Or is it just me?

She bumps me, then I'm pulled into a stumbling three-way hug and a cup is shoved into my hand.

Laughter rings out across the yard, people dance drunkenly or soberly, hips moving, and hands in the air.

Ray grabs my hand. "Alright, you two, she'll be out in a minute."

Torch stumbles, and Lizzy giggles, waving stupidly as I leave with Ray.

"Isn't it too early for them to be drunk?" I ask with a laugh, handing the cup to him. "And isn't Lizzy the bartender? Why's she already drunk?"

He snorts. "If you've noticed, we have new faces. Someone else is manning the bar. Didn't Ezra tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"Tonight is initiation night."

My blood runs cold. "Initiation?"

"Yea," he replies. "We're about to welcome some new bikers to the fold."

The door to my old room pushes open, and I see a familiar red-head laying in the bed surrounded by sweet treats as she watches a movie.

She looks up, a wide smile immediately spreads across her face. "Wrennie!!!"

I rush to the bed, jumping on it as we hug, giggling to each other.

"You both saw each other a few days ago." Ray chuckles.

"A few days too long, babe," Quincy replies. "Alright, you can shoo now, bye."

"Me? Shoo?" Ray gapes in mock disbelief, and I laugh. "It's fine, I'll leave you two."

He walks toward the bed, a lazy smile on his lips, eyes shining with so much admiration, and affection as he stares at Quincy.

"Call me if you need me, okay?" He murmurs to her, stroking her jaw.

She smiles, melting in his arms. "I will."

Ray leans in and places a kiss on her lips. I have to look away to give them their privacy, while also wishing for something like that.

Or rather, remembering what I had...with Tristan.

"I love you," Ray murmurs as they break away.

She gives him a peck, cheeks almost as red as her hair. "I love you too, baby."

"Alright, Chirp. See you both soon." Ray waves and finally leaves.

Quincy and I settle into the bed, her little bump on display through the crop top she has on. She's barely two months pregnant, and Ray protects her like she's about to give birth.

"How are things with Sean?" She asks.

I shrug. "We don't talk much anymore. I guess we're both a little too busy."

"Busy getting hickies?" She arches a brow at my neck. "Ezra gave that to you, didn't he?"

Instinctively, I raise a hand to it, breath hitching. "Pfft. Ezra? No way."

"Damn," she whistles. "Ray's gonna kill him if he finds out."

I push up from the bed, staring into her green-flecked eyes. "It's not Ezra, Quincy."

She doesn't say anything for a minute, a frown on her face. My heart pounds in my ears, sweat breaking across my temples and spine.

"You know you can trust me right?" Her voice is soft.

I immediately feel bad, and I confess. "It was once, I swear. Nothing's going on between us."

"There's nothing wrong if there is—at least not to me, Wren." She clasps my hand. "I may not be around much at the clubhouse, but I see things. My only advice is; be careful, Ray's not gonna like it."

My throat tightens. "I know, god. It's crazy, but I'm just so attracted to the man with all his arrogance and infuriation."

She chuckles. "Your brother is exactly like that. And now, look at me having his baby soon. Anyways, I'll help you hide that hickey better."

"It's that obvious?"

"You're lucky your brother has poor vision sometimes, if not you'd be explaining to him who gave you the hickey."

"He has poor vision?"

She laughs, patting my hands. "I'm sorry, you might not get it. It's our inside joke."

"Oh." I laugh. "Well, thank goodness for his poor vision then."

"Come on, let's put some make-up on that, and watch this movie before heading out for the initiation ritual."

The revving sound of motorcycles purrs as Ezra and Ray lead a crew of four bikers to the center of the yard.

It's the first time seeing Ezra ride, and he looks tense. Jaw tight, eyes never wavering, and when the bonfire lights fall on him, I see how tightly he's gripping the handle bars.

I frown, brows pinched together.

The air hums with tension and the clink of metal as they line their bikes in a perfect circle, headlights casting a harsh tunnel of light down a gauntlet path where biker brothers form two lines on either path.

In their hands are belts, chains, pipes, and every pain inflicting object you can imagine. I nearly shudder.

"What are they going to do with all those clubs?" I whisper to Quincy, shuddering.

She takes a sip of water and whispers back. "Have no idea, but we'll see. Initiation rituals are different at different points."

They unmount their bikes, and Ray and Ezra step forward.

"Prospects!" Ray's voice booms across the yard. "Come on out."

The lights illuminate a total of seven shirtless guys, young and average looking. They march to the beginning of the gauntlet path.

Ezra hands two bottles of whiskey each to the four bikers, and Ray, who stand at the end of the path. He keeps two for himself.

I watch him open both bottles, and walk toward Ray—well, he limps. It's subtle, but I notice it.

The frown on my face deepens.

He raises a bottle, his face darkened. "Let the fucking initiation begin!"