Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Really? I clocked military on the other guy, but not him.”
“Callow,” Brooks said. “They knew each other from their time serving.”
“What about the giant? Definitely not military.”
“No. He was kind of raised by the streets. His name is Perish.”
“No way. Like… his government name?”
“Believe it or not.”
“Wow. His parents didn’t have high hopes for his future, I guess.”
“The twins, Rune and Croft, are legacies.”
“Meaning?” I asked, following him as he led me back out of the prospect room.
“They are the sons of members of the club. Their old man is pretty much retired now, but legacies always get in the club if they want.”
“Seems… fair,” I said, grimacing.
“They do need to prove their worth,” Brooks said, shrugging.
“You make them prove their worth, don’t you?” I asked.
Clay had always hated people who had shit handed to them in life just because of who they were or who they knew. I imagined Brooks had similar feelings.
“Fuck yeah, I do,” he agreed, shooting me a smile that was reminiscent of the Brooks I used to know.
“Is one of these your room?” I asked, waving toward the doors in the hall. “Do you live here?”
“Yeah,” he said, pointing to a door.
I didn’t wait for permission.
I grabbed the knob, and let myself inside, way too curious to stop myself from snooping.
It used to drive me nuts as a kid that I’d never seen the inside of Brooks’s bedroom. I felt like I was missing out on a huge chunk of his personality, not knowing what his room was like.
I mean, my room had been full of all the things that had always interested me. Movie and music posters. Racks full of clothes. Fashion magazines. Vision boards for things I wanted to do when I grew up.
Clay’s room always had lots of sports memorabilia and old school music posters.
Brooks remained a mystery.
I mean, not that I expected to find music or movie posters on the walls of a grown-ass man’s bedroom. But adult decor choices told us a lot about someone as well.
It was a windowless space, and I figured that likely had something to do with security, because the prospect room windows were so oddly situated.
The walls were so dark that they were almost black, and the space was dominated by a bed that had to be a queen, and covered in really nice linen bedding.
On the nightstand was a small stack of books, and I found myself wandering over, flipping through them.
“I didn’t know you were a reader,” I said, checking out the nonfiction titles.
“Wasn’t back then,” he said as I finished with the books and moved over toward his stereo where he had a rack full of CDs.
“These I recognize,” I said, seeing the names of R&B and hip-hop albums he and Clay always used to blast when our parents weren’t around to complain about the racket. “This is it?” I asked, looking around at the neat space, finding no other personal details. “Your whole life is in this room?”
“Yep,” he said, looking uncomfortable even though he was casually leaning back against the wall by the door.
“Okay. What else does this place have?” I asked. “What’s that glass thing on the roof?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Brooks
I really needed not to be taking Caliana into the glass room on the roof. In fact, I needed to stop being alone with her.
Because the longer I was, the harder it became to keep my goddamn eyes on her face.
Especially when she was walking around in my room in that skintight dress with the straps of a yellow bathing suit sneaking out on her shoulders, conjuring up all sorts of mental images I had no fucking business imagining about my best friend’s little sister. Whether or not he was still around to be pissed about it.
That dress of hers was making it hard to breathe with the way it hugged every inch of her, especially her hips and round ass.
I shook off those thoughts as I led her down the stairs to the basement, explaining that the bunk beds and supplies were mostly for emergencies. Natural disasters.
“Or shootouts?” she asked, point-blank, making me turn to look at her, finding her chin lifted, daring me to contradict her.
“Yeah,” I agreed, fighting back a smile at the surprise that crossed her face. “Though that doesn’t happen nearly as often as TV shows like to make you think.”
“I never thought you, of all people, would become an outlaw biker,” she said, shaking her head a little as I led her over to the ladder. “Up?” she asked, eyeing me dubiously.
“Yeah, up. That’s the way to the glass room,” I explained, trying to tell my cock not to get any ideas about watching her as she went up the ladder.
Her dress was long.
I wouldn’t be seeing anything.
But that wouldn’t stop me from ogling her ass.