“You don’t believe in fate?”
He shakes his head.
“What do you believe in, then?” I ask, turning to study his profile.
“I believe in loyalty, my family, and working my ass off to make sure things go my way” is his reply. I contemplate his words. That was all he believed in? Why did that make me feel a little . . . sad? He was a grown-ass man, and like he’d said, his parents didn’t want him, so maybe that’s why he doesn’t believe in fate. When he says his family, he has to be talking about his MC. For a moment, I feel a tiny bit jealous that he has that. My father is in prison, my mom died a few years back, and any friends I have are fading away as time goes on without my contacting them, so really, I’m alone.
And he isn’t.
So while I was the one who got adopted as a child, he’s the one who has a family now. Funny how that works out, isn’t it? We can relate to each other, but at the same time we can’t. Growing up in a world like this is hard enough; I can’t imagine having to do it without parents, or someone to look after you. The foster system is a joke, everyone knows that, and God only knows what he went through.
“Loyalty is everything,” I agree, thrumming my fingers on my thigh. “I do believe in fate and destiny and all that crap too though.”
He chuckles as he pulls onto our street. “All that crap, huh? Sounds real important to you. But yes, you seem like one of those happy-go-lucky, always-look-on-the-bright-side type of people.”
I don’t think that that’s a bad thing. There’s nothing wrong with being hopeful, seeing the positive in situations and the good in people.
“You know what I mean,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I’m a closet romantic. I think that everything that’s meant to be will be, when the time is right.”
“Jesus,” he grumbles, stopping the car at the front of the gate. “Is this the shit that Zada Ryan writes? No wonder none of the men will read it except Tracker.”
I jump on that. “Who’s Tracker?”
“Stay here,” he commands, leaving the car to put the gate code in. When he comes back I ask, “Is Zada Ryan one of your biker chicks? That’s how you know her, isn’t it? That’s so fucking cool!”
He glances at me and frowns. “You have crazy eyes again.”
Great, that’s twice he’s seen my fangirl face.
“You’re not going to answer me, are you?” I gather.
“Nope,” he says, sounding cheerful. “I told you, after this I’ll organize a day where you can meet her yourself. Your own private signing.”
“If I’m good,” I mutter, remembering his past words.
“You planning on being bad?” he asks, parking the car.
“I was,” I admit. “I was going to be a little bitch and make your life hell for judging me when you didn’t even know me.”
Vinnie snaps his head to me, eyes wide. His shoulders start shaking as he begins to laugh. “Are you serious?” He hits the steering wheel, laughing harder. “You were going to make my life hell?”
“Yes,” I say, eyes narrowing at his amusement. He clearly doesn’t appreciate how uncomfortable I could have made his situation. “I was.”
“Oh, fuck,” he groans, shoulders shaking some more. “Shay, you’re fuckin’ hilarious.”
Shay.
No one I know calls me Shay, but I find myself liking it. And even though I wasn’t trying to be hilarious—I was just being honest—I also like when he laughs.
“Come on, let’s get inside. You can tell me more about this nefarious plan of yours.”
SEVEN
“SO you were just going to be a bitch? That’s not much of a plan,” Vinnie says, eyes dancing with amusement. He grabs the fruit and vegetables and packs them away in the fridge.
“I was going to behave the way you expected me to,” I say, opening the pantry and putting away the items in my hands. I leave out everything I need to make dinner. “You were making me out to be this spoiled little diva, so I was going to lay it on thick and make your life miserable while you’re here.”
“So what happened?” he asks, leaning back against the counter and watching me. “You changed your mind? You were still a bit of a bitch yesterday, you know.”
“You took me out for the first time in a month, and you took me to the pet store,” I say, my eyes gentle on him. “And you sat there for over an hour without complaining while I hugged puppies. Not many men would do that. So I forgave you for being a judgmental asshole because there is obviously more to you than meets the eye.”
He was patient and he was kind. Yes, I saw the way he was looking at the woman who worked there, just daring her to come up to us and kick us out. He had my back, giving me something when he didn’t even understand why it meant so much to me. I like puppies; they make me happy. I’ve always wanted a dog, but my mom was allergic, or so she said. I personally think she just wasn’t an animal person, but either way, I never got the puppy I asked for, even though I begged every birthday and Christmas. There’s nothing puppies can’t cure. If you’ve had a stressful day, cuddle a puppy.
Vinnie surprises me by throwing his head back and laughing. “Fuck, Shay. You can’t just go around calling bikers names and shit. Not all of them might be as nice as me.”
“Well, lucky for me I got stuck with you,” I say, opening a chocolate bar and taking a bite. “Do you want some?”