The Biker's Fate Chapter 385

Grace

I let myself into Merrick's place and dropped my keys in the dish by the door. "Mer?"

"Back here!" he called, then walked out into the living room, shrugging on his cut.

"You going out?"

"Compound," he said. "If that counts as 'out,' then, yeah."

"Okay, so I'm cooking for one, then?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You're cooking?"

I dropped my purse on the sofa and nodded. "Was thinking about it."

He hummed, pressing his lips into a thin line. "Random pussy or my sister's cooking. That's a tough decision."

I punched his arm. "Ohmigod, Merrick. You're disgusting. Forget it, I'm not cooking for you now."

He laughed, rubbing the place where my fist connected. "Where did you learn to hit so hard?"

"Devon," I said, walking into the kitchen to see what I could find to cook.

"I think I'll have a conversation with old Sparky tonight."

I rolled my eyes. "Good luck with that."

"I'm gonna head out. You good?"

"Yep. Have fun."

He walked out the door, locking it behind him, and I tried to figure out if I could make something healthy out of our meager choices.

An hour after I'd opened my refrigerator, I was stretched out on the sofa, open bag of crinkled chips in my lap, licking my fingers in an attempt to clean away the evidence of my 'dinner.' I ended up wiping my hands on my jeans before pushing myself up from the sofa just as my phone rang on the side table.

"Hello?"

"I heard you're cooking," Flea said.

"You heard wrong. I thought about it, but this family sized bag of Wavy Lay's jumped out at me, and I tried really hard to wrestle it back into the cabinet, but the fucker's strong. He won."

He chuckled. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yep. Karma's a bitch, though. Half of him is now in my belly."

"Okay, so you've filled yourself with shit… you want some protein?"

"I don't have any protein. Hence the chips finding their way down my gullet."

"Want me to pick up protein for you to cook and bring it over?" he asked. "Or I could swing by and take you out."

"Or… you could hit Burgerville on the way over?"

"Yeah, I could do that."

"Ohmigod, seriously?"

"Yeah, what do you want?"

"Tillamook cheeseburger, fries, chocolate milkshake."

"Shit, that was fast," he said with a chuckle.

"I'm starving," I complained.

"Okay, babe, I'll see you in a bit."

"Okay, Flea. Thanks."

I hung up and did my best to clean up the chip crumbs before rushing to the bathroom and brushing out my hair. I wasn't sure why Flea was coming over, but I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth… and I was going to try and look cute for said gift horse.

He arrived about twenty minutes after I brushed a little lip-gloss on, and I rushed to pull the door open. "Hi."

"Hey, babe," he said, stepping inside. "You got beer?"

"Merrick's got beer," I said. "Yes."

He grinned. "That works."

He grabbed himself a beer while I unpacked the food and then we sat at the dinette and chowed down on the best burgers in the world.

"Shit, you were hungry," he observed.

I nodded, swallowing the huge bite I'd just taken. "Does it surprise you?"

"That you were hungry?"

"No, that I can eat my weight in meat."

Flea laughed. "Yeah, I guess it does a little."

I wiped my mouth and grinned. "I dance; therefore, I eat."

"Makes sense."

"So, um, why are you here?" I asked, rushing to add, "Not that I'm complaining, I just figured if you and Mer were both at the club tonight, you were busy."

"Nah. It was a regular night. I guess I wasn't feelin' it."

I smiled. "Well, anytime you feel like you're not 'feelin' it' and want to bring me food, I'm all for it."

"Good to know." He tipped his beer toward me. "Your brother needs to buy better beer."

"I don't think he was expecting you to drink it all."

"Won't drink it all," he countered. "It's dog piss."

I chuckled. "You could always bring your own."

"I'll keep that in mind for next time."

I busied myself with scrunching up my wrappers in an effort to hide how happy I was that there'd be a next time. Chucking everything into the trash, I sat back down at the table.

"You good if I hang out a bit?" Flea asked.

"Yes, if you want to."

"Don't want to assume you're free," he said.

"If it was tomorrow, I wouldn't be."

"Oh, yeah? What's tomorrow."

"Class. I have a private one with Cassidy."

"You still take classes?"

I nodded. "I probably always will. Otherwise, I'll get soft."

"It's cool you got that kinda work ethic."

"Is it?"

"Yeah, babe, it is."

I settled my chin in my hand, elbow to the table, and studied him. "What's your deal?"

"My deal?"

"Yeah. I can't figure out why you're being so nice to me."

"I'm a nice guy."

I narrowed my eyes. "Is that what it is?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Hmm."

"Hmm, what?"

I was suddenly feeling really insecure.

Drop it, Grace. Just go with it. Don't overthink things.

"Just don't want to be the pity friend," I admitted, not dropping it.

He frowned. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

I rose to my feet and headed into the kitchen, busying myself with the dirty dishes. "Forget it. Just ignore me."

I heard the scrape of a chair and then he was standing between me and my only way out of the kitchen. "Fill me in on what you mean, Grace."

I faced him. "I'm being insecure. It's a thing. I'm not proud of it, but it's the truth. In case you haven't noticed, I don't have friends."

"Oh, yeah? Poppy's not your friend?" he challenged.

I sighed. "Poppy's family. Poppy doesn't count."

"Fair enough, but just so we're clear, I'm not friends with people I don't genuinely like, so no more bullshit talk that I'm doin' anything out of pity. Clear?"

I nodded, focusing back on the sink.

"Grace. Need you to hear me on that."

"Got it."

"Look at me when you lie to me."

I gasped, meeting his eyes. "I'm not lying."