Wrecked by the Bad Boy: The Sick MC

by Olivia Stephens

  At least the shoddy dates were long gone. They had scurried out from the table as soon as Tyler paid the tab.

  Tyler stood beside Miranda, helpless and hapless. A battle warred inside him. The desire to talk to her, to reconnect, fought against his sense of responsibility. The right thing to do would be to wade back into his little throng of adoring barmaids. Yet, Tyler hesitated. He peeked at Miranda from the corner of his gaze and words fumbled across his tongue, “So, how do you like working at the bank?”

  Miranda mumbled, “It's good work. Long hours, so it keeps me busy.”

  “Oh.” Silence strung out from between them. It seemed a bubble of tension coiled around them while the rest of the patrons sounded muffled beyond.

  Miranda shifted from foot to foot, peanuts snapping under her heel. Manners demanded she say something. Yet, part of her wanted to remain silent. The less the two of them talked, the better. Miranda couldn't help herself, though. “Um, what do you do, now?”

  “I work at a junkyard and a garage.” Tyler shrugged, trying not to think about what actually happened at both places of work. This time, he couldn't meet her eye. His gaze flicked around the bar. Jack and Naomi had fully disappeared into the crowd. Or, perhaps, they sneaked out the back for a quick rendezvous.

  “Wow, two jobs?” Miranda raised her eyebrows as she listed her head toward Tyler. Years ago, Tyler struggled to even land one job in Legacy. Everyone knew his reputation and very few put up with him. The few people he did work under always seemed to have excellent reviews. Well, until Tyler stopped going to work.

  Tyler resisted the urge to hang his head. The auto shop and the junkyard worked in tandem and he doubted Miranda would like to hear the shadowy side of their business. Instead, Tyler muttered, “They're owned by the same guy, so they're more like one job.”

  Silence fell again. Someone stumbled by them, braying like a donkey. Somewhere in the busy bar, a glass shattered and someone screamed. Miranda gave in and looked at Tyler. His profile in the dusty light of the bar reawakened short snippets of memory. Her gaze flicked to the leather vest he wore, a question toddling into her head, “So, who are the Backsteel Bandits?”

  “We're a motorcycle club,” Tyler answered, mechanically. He glanced down at Miranda, forcing himself to meet her eye. He had nothing to hide. After all, clubs weren't illegal. Something in him shirked away from telling her a half-truth.

  Miranda's curiosity sparked and, just slightly, an intrigued smile curled at her lips, “Motorcycle club? What do you do?”

  Tyler averted his gaze. He didn't want to think about Pete or Pete's businesses. This was a little getaway to distance himself. Instead of answering, Tyler flashed Miranda one of his heart-melting grins. Her cheeks instantly pinked. A swell of delight and smugness rippled through him. “Enough about me, Mir. What about you? How've you been?”

  “Good,” she answered, suddenly feeling extremely boring compared to him. Then again, Tyler always seemed to live a life of adventure. She always envied him for that fact. “You know about the bank. I have my own apartment and, uh, a great car.”

  Nosiness got the better of Tyler. “Got a boyfriend?”

  “No,” Miranda's face flared with a blush. “Not that I haven't dated since you, you know. Men are just assholes.”

  “Yes, we are,” Tyler laughed. A pang of guilt cleaved through him, but he brushed it aside. Hadn't Miranda just gotten out of a relationship with someone? The tension in the air was becoming palatable and heavy. If he didn't do something soon, their little reunion would end with a fizzle. He didn't want that. His hand shot out, curling around Miranda's wrist before he made a beeline for the back.

  “Tyler! What are you doing?” Miranda gasped as Tyler tugged her along. She pulled against his hold, but only halfheartedly. She wanted to follow him out of the bar, away from prying eyes and loose lips. At the same time, Miranda knew how all of this was going to end. Her heart knotted in delight, but under it all was a thread of sadness.

  He maneuvered his way through the crowd, not turning nor answering Miranda. Her farce was one Tyler knew by heart. She put up a weak fight – since that much was expected of her – when, deep down, she wanted to follow him, wanted whatever he offered. His fingers gently squeezed her wrist with affection.

  Heat crawled over Miranda's body as they stepped into the night. She blinked, forcing her eyes to adjust to the change in illumination. Her heart thrummed with excitement as soon as she registered they were behind the bar. The bar butted against another building, leaving a narrow alleyway shrouded in shadows at night. Not even moonlight fully bathed the alley. Her mind nudged with memories. Miranda's face flared with an excited blush and her stomach clenched, but she didn't have time to reminisce.

  Tyler continued to lead her down the alleyway. At the back of his head, memories shook off a decade of dust. It was here, somewhere. He had used it plenty of times to get away from cops or other pursuers.

  Miranda was beginning to wonder the point to this excursion. After all, a lot of time had passed since Tyler last wandered the streets of Legacy. Some things changed. Then again, it was possible he had already brought another woman out here. Miranda waved that sour possibility away, displeasure tainting her excitement. “Tyler?”

  His eyes lit on the fire escape hanging off the other building that flanked the alley. A grin curled at his lips. Tyler released Miranda's hand as he sprinted toward the brick wall. He brought his foot up, managing the correct trajectory to rebound up and snag the hanging ladder to the fire escape.

  Metal clattered as the ladder rolled down. He landed a few feet from her, a grin curling over his lips. He bowed slightly, motioning to the ladder. “This way, if you please.”

  “Is it safe?” Miranda cocked an eyebrow and glanced at Tyler. She raised her hand to the ladder, and gingerly touched it, as if worried it would shatter under her palm.

  “Only one way to find out.” Tyler's eyes glittered with a challenge. He leaned closer to Miranda, with narrowed eyes and a teasing smirk. “Unless you're too afraid, Mir.”

  She shot him a glare, indignity flaring in her thoughts. Before Tyler could harass her any further, she hoisted herself onto the ladder. It shuddered under her weight, but didn't creak. Slowly, Miranda made her way up, trying to ignore the feeling of Tyler's gaze on her. Despite the blush that burned along her cheeks, she didn't mind his leering.

  As he watched her ascend up the fire escape, desire coiled across his thoughts. His gaze slid over the curve of her back, her ass, and her legs. Pleasant heat simmered in his gut as his imagination brought her under him, her lips close, her breasts heaving, his name laced into her moans. Tyler shook the thoughts off as Miranda's boots climbed up before his eyes. He scrabbled after her, hope suspended in his thoughts

  Once the two arrived at the roof, they took a moment to drink in the sight. The roof, bathed in pale moonlight, contrasted against the dark sky and the stretch of sparse vegetation that lay just behind the building. Miranda stared down the landscape, over the shrubs and trees. She thought she could hear far-off creatures rustle and sidle along the brush. Stars, barely noticeable thanks to air pollution, speckled the blue-black velvet of the sky.

  She took a deep breath, glad to be away from the bar and the people. Tension oozed from her limbs and, for the first time in a long time, she felt completely at ease. A smile curled over her lips.

  “You still have that look.” Tyler's voice cut through her captivation.

  Her gaze snapped to Tyler's face. Her smile didn't falter, though her eyebrows dipped in uncertainty. “What?”

  “It's this look you always got when we snuck off in the middle of the night,” Tyler's grin grew, though his ears reddened. He averted his gaze, unused to relaying fond memories. Rubbing the back of his neck, he muttered, “When we were pretty much in the clear, you would always stop and look around and smile, then take a big breath. Like you were enjoying freedom for the first time.”

  Miranda's head listed to the si
de, surprise filtering through her thoughts. She definitely remembered feeling free with Tyler. It didn't matter where or how, whether they were just walking around Legacy or they had crept out for a night on the town. The fact he remembered her reactions, though, struck Miranda.

  Heat licked across her cheeks and the urge to touch Tyler ran up her arms. Miranda couldn't bring herself to look away, though she did swallow the urge to touch him. For now. With a giddy smile, she laughed, “I can't believe you remember something like that.”

  “Why's that?”

  “Well, you've been gone for ten years.” Miranda shrugged and looked away from his face. “I'm sure there's been plenty of women you've made memories with.”

  Tyler laughed, a little too loudly, and scrubbed at his face. Sure, there were women. He faintly recalled plenty of ladies and romps in the sheets. However, he'd never be able to pick many of them out from a crowd. Most of the memory making had been done under the haze of drink. He shook his head, chuckling, “None of them amount to what we had, Mir.”

  A sudden wave of faint conversation slammed into Miranda. Her father's voice, her mother's shill cries, her friends' snide comments, Tyler's parting words. Pain sliced through her heart and she swallowed heavily. Realizing she and Tyler were standing too close, she sidled away, crossing her arms. “We broke up for a reason.”

  “So?” Tyler's eyebrows furrowed. Somewhere near the bar, a door slammed open and a feminine voice giggled raucously. Tyler resisted the urge to close the gap between himself and Miranda. “That doesn't mean the feelings are gone.”

  Miranda turned away from him. Her fingers still itched with the urge to touch him, to run her digits through his hair and feel his body under her fingertips. She burrowed her hands tighter against her body, and ducked her head down. Her self-restraint clamped down on her fantasies. “I should go.”

  Something was wrong. Uncertainty wobbled in Tyler's head as he cut off Miranda's retreat. For the first time since he returned, he touched her. His hands fell to her shoulders, stopping the woman in her tracks.

  She stifled a gasp in her throat, delicious warmth and electricity coursing from his touch. Her lower stomach tightened and she dug her fingers against her sides, fighting mounting desires.

  Tyler stooped, peering into Miranda's face as he gently asked, “Hey, what did I say?”

  “Tyler, my last relationship just ended, literally, yesterday.” Miranda closed her eyes, refusing to look into his concerned brown eyes. Those eyes had a way of melting her resolve, dissecting her thoughts, coaxing the deepest ones out. She swallowed, trying to stave off her confused tears and her deep desires. A pain she thought had healed long ago throbbed across her head. “I know we broke up for the better, but that doesn't make it any easier.”

  Words poised on the tip of Tyler's tongue – explanations for his flight from Legacy, the pressure to let her go, how much it hurt him, as well. But, that was all in the past. If he wanted to relay those thoughts, he should have done it a long time ago. Instead, his voice dropped an octave and his fingers squeezed her shoulders. “I'm sorry.”

  She couldn't bear to look him in the eye. She knew she'd crumple into tears or – worse – throw herself at him. They didn't need to reopen past wounds any farther. She settled for a cracking murmur, “Me, too.”

  Something heavy descended between them. Neither wanted to move, neither wanted to break the connection. Yet, both knew it would be for the best.

  Suddenly, a buzzing sliced the air between them. They both jolted and reached for their cellphones, both relieved and frustrated at the interruption.

  “It's me,” Miranda muttered, looking at the text from Naomi. Her stomach flipped while her heart thudded. A confusing mixture of hope, excitement, and dread nipped at her thoughts. “She and Jack are heading back to his place.”

  She refrained from wincing. Naomi had driven her to the bar and she had the keys. The blonde probably tried to find her at the bar and, when she couldn't locate Miranda, resorted to texting. Miranda would have to find her own way home. Her mind immediately volunteered Tyler, but she ignored it.

  “I figured that would happen,” Tyler laughed, hollowly. Jack had his eye on Naomi at the bank, it was no surprise he managed to get her to go home with him. If Tyler were any judge of interest, she was fairly interested in his buddy, too.

  However, that did present the problem of living arrangements for him. Jack and Tyler decided to share a two-bed motel room. If they had to leave in a hurry, it'd be easier to gather everything from one room. But, it did present a problem when it came to nighttime activities.

  Tyler straightened from his stance, shoving his hands into his pockets. His palm itched with tingling sensations. At the back of his mind, wishful fantasies tagged along his thoughts.

  Miranda watched him for a breath. Her body felt raw and cold without his body heat or his hands. She bit at her lip, her eyes dropping to the floor. Naomi was off, having no-strings-attached fun with Tyler's buddy. Enviousness ached in Miranda's thoughts. Why couldn't she do that – have flippant sex with people she barely know and feel good about it?

  Her gaze edged to Tyler, again. Miranda pressed her lips together, caution and curiosity colored her thoughts. She couldn't bring herself to leave the roof. What was it Naomi always said when Miranda broke up with someone? Make sure you get it all out of your system, get some closure, and then move on. Tyler had been ripped away from her, denying her the chance of closure. Maybe he felt the same way. “Tyler?”

  “Yeah?”

  Miranda's gaze darted away from his face. His warm gaze made her blood boil. Swallowing, she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and hesitantly looked at him. She couldn't bring herself to say what was on her mind. Forcing an awkward smile to her lips, Miranda said, “I need a ride home.”

  A bright smile split across Tyler's lips.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Tyler silently reveled in Miranda's body pressed against his back. Her arms looped tightly around his torso as his hog roared through the night. The ride was over all too quickly, though. Soon, the chopper glided into Miranda's apartment complex parking lot. He killed the engine after pulling into a spot. A street lamp blared down at them, bathing them in artificial yellow light.

  The brick, four-story building loomed over them. The windows alternated, at random, with light and darkness. On the third floor, Tyler spotted the blinds bend open as a nosy neighbor peeped out into the parking lot. Judging from the cars and the upkeep of the landscape, the neighbors were moderately well-off. If memory served, the location was also fairly close to Miranda's childhood home. Faintly, Tyler wondered if her family talked her into this complex.

  She held onto him a beat after the engine died. She could hear his heart thumping through his chest while she basked in his body heat. Tyler didn't budge and, faintly, she wondered if he enjoyed it, too. The thought brought unwelcome delight. She pushed herself away from him and scrabbled off his bike. She lifted the helmet off her head, shoving it into Tyler's hands after he stood. “Thanks for the ride.”

  Mischief glinted in Tyler's eyes. A smirk curled at his lips and his mouth twitched, as if to say something. A dirty connotation to 'ride' ghosted between them and Miranda's face flushed. For heaven's sakes, it had been ten years! Why was she acting like a schoolgirl with a crush? The coolness of the night gave her no relief either. It just served as a constant reminder to how much Tyler affected her.

  “So, going to invite me in?” Tyler teased as he put the helmet away. He knew it was a stretch to hope, but it didn't hurt.

  Something in Miranda ignited. A part of her flared in response to his taunting lilt. Like with the ladder when he challenged her. The urge to drag him into her apartment itched along her palms. Her deep-seeded restraint did its best to quash all desires, though.

  It wasn't enough. She could feel her inner tease rearing its head. Miranda listed her head to the side, an impish curve to her lips. “What is this, a date?”

  T
yler's hope inflated. Miranda was encouraging him. Something in her tone of voice, or maybe her eyes, sent a tingle to his groin. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. Miranda didn't skirt backward, urging Tyler on. “Well, I did buy you drinks and took you on a romantic, moonlit romp.”

  Miranda snorted and shook her head. Her skin tingled as he neared closer. “No romping happened.”

  “Well, the night is still young.”

  “Not if you don't walk me to my apartment,” teased Miranda, her eyes half-lidded and a smile on her lips. Before Tyler could retort, she turned on her heel and sauntered up to the door, a bit more sway to her hips than normal. Tyler watched her go, a thrill clawing down his spine. Could he justify this? He left Miranda for her own good, after all.

  Practicality and desire warred inside him. Finally, a thought settled in his head. Miranda wanted him to follow. The least he could do was walk her to her door.