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A Biker Romance

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by Jess Winters




  A Biker Romance

  MC Second Chance Romance

  Jess Winters

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  Copyright © 2020 by Jess Winters

  All rights reserved.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited, and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  Prologue

  It’s been two years since Nicola last saw Calvin, but not a day goes by where she doesn’t think about him. While other men lust after her, she’s still scarred by the man who left her suddenly, unexpectedly and without reason.

  As Nicola traverses life working at a diner and a best friend who’s desperately in love with her, she wonders if she’ll ever find love again, or if love might come back to her.

  Chapter One

  My eyes snap open, and the first thing I notice is the chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

  This isn’t my bed!

  Cautiously, I roll over and prod the man lying next to me, but he’s sleeping face down, quite deeply judging by his snores. I hear a creaking floorboard and some faint whispering from outside the door. It’s a mum; I can tell!

  But I’ve been here before. I recognise those velvet plum curtains.

  Of course! This is Dylan’s house.

  This must be the first time I’ve been in his bedroom.

  I pat myself down and check what or how much, I’m wearing. But I’m in a full pyjama set; it’s hideous and means I definitely did not have sex last night, thank the lord!

  I carefully reach over Dylan’s motionless body and unplug my phone from the socket. Dylan gruffs lightly, and I dash into the ensuite as quick as possible, my clothes bundled up in my arms.

  I change and glance in the mirror, silently I open the door, creeping through the room on the tips of my feet so as not to disturb Dylan. I press my ear against the door and check that the mum isn’t up here. Now’s my chance.

  I sneak through the hallway and down the stairs. I almost make it to the front door when I hear footsteps approach me. With no time to dart to the door, I quickly shut myself in the downstairs bathroom. Then I see it.

  The bathroom window, just about big enough to squeeze my ever-growing hips through.

  “How do I get myself into these situations?” I utter under my breath as I heave my upper-body through the gap between the glass. The door handle begins rattling, and I realise I’ve got to get out of here now!

  I roll out of the window, thumping the ground as I hit it. I quickly brush off the grass stains and shuffle to the edge of the road where I wave down a taxi.

  I have got to stop doing this!

  Chapter Two

  “You, Nicola, escaped through the window?” Zara falls into fits of laughter at the table, while I take another sip of wine.

  “I had to! I shouldn’t have even stayed there in the first place.”

  “Oh, why not?” Zara picks up her wine glass. “He’d be good for you. He’s got money, and he’s…”

  I cut Zara off before she can say anymore. “He lives with his mother!”

  Zara giggles. “I think she lives with him?”

  “Whatever,” I mumble. I cringe at the thought of sharing a bed with Dylan, let alone anything more. He’s not a bad guy, but he’s just so innocent and, dare I say, desperate.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Zara’s voice has that tone, the tone when she absolutely does know what I’m thinking. “You don’t think he’s enough of a bad boy.”

  “What?” I scoff.

  “That’s not… I mean. I do not want a bad boy!”

  Zara tilts her head. “You would never date a guy who’s dad is a cop!”

  “That has nothing to do with it. And I told you! I am so done with bad boys. I want a nice guy! But just not Dylan, you know. We’re friends, nothing more. Last night was just me drinking too much wine and needing a place to stay. Nothing happened.” I sigh a self-pitying shy.

  Zara watches me.

  “I said nothing!”

  “OK, OK, I believe you!”

  I take another gulp of wine, checking my watch, my night shift at the diner is about to start, and I cannot be late again! You know, I don’t care if Dylan has a chandelier and a fancy fridge with an ice dispenser, I’d rather work my diner job forever than to marry someone who thinks visiting the DVD store is a fun day out.

  OK, I need to stop being a bitch; Dylan is my friend. He helped me through a lot last year, and that more than I can say for some people.

  “I’ve got to be off; my shift is starting soon.” I grab my jacket and finish off the last sips of my drink.

  “Alright gal, I hope you meet some dreamboat at work,” she winks and wrinkles her nose.

  “That would be a first,” I snigger.

  I make my way outside and wait for my bus. It’s still humid out even at 6 PM. As the bus approaches, I can already see that it’s stuffed with people.

  I hold on to the rail, pressed between the other sweaty passengers. I feel a brush along my thigh. I squeal and turn to see wobbling man wave at me with one hand and clutch a beer with the other.

  Is this who I have to choose from? Dull Dylan or dodgy drunk Dave over here- what a bunch!

  Finally, the bus pulls up at my stop. I duck underneath the rows of foul-smelling armpits and jump out, taking a deep breath of fresh air. Crossing the car park, I begin to fasten my pinny and pin up my hair. My boss makes eye contact with me the second I open the door. Something is going on. He signals at my with his eyes and I spot him.

  You have got to be kidding me.

  Dylan sits hunched over at a table, pretending to read a menu, when really he’s waiting for me.

  “I’ll deal with this,” I mouth to my boss. I put my hands on my hips, sigh a little and walk over to his table.

  “You can’t do this, Dylan, this is my workplace!”

  Dylan closes the menu and looks up into my eyes. “It doesn’t have to be, you know?”

  I fold my arms and turn away. “Are we really going to talk about this again?”

  He stands up from his chair; I can tell by the vein on his forehead that he’s beginning to get riled up.

  “You act like what I’m offering you is so horrendous! The chance to give up working in this dump, to be adored and cared for; isn’t that what you need, Nicola?”

  I sit down and the table and lock eyes until Dylan sits down with me.

  “Love isn’t a transaction, you know?”

  Dylan widens his eyes as if he doesn’t understand me, but he already knows what’s coming.

  “A woman doesn’t line up her offers and accept the best one. It’s not about money, or security, or even kindness. It’s something else.”

  He slides his hands across the table and clutches mine; I can feel the sweat between his fingers.

  “What else, tell me! Because we talk and we laugh, and you stay in my bed…”

  “That was the first, and only time Dylan. And I don’t know, but when you feel it, you know.”

  Dylan’s hand trembles slightly. I can almost see me slipping away from him in the reflection of his eyes. But I have to confirm it.

  “And when you don’t, you just don’t.”
>
  I reach out an arm to pat him on the shoulder and push back my hair before getting to work.

  “You’re a bitch; you know that?”

  I turn and place my hand firmly on the table.

  “So this is how you react to rejection, very mature Dylan.”

  He shakes his head slowly, and a smile creeps across his face.

  “Rejection? This is me reacting to you using me as a comfort blanket when you need it. Leaning on me, crying on my shoulder, staying in my bed, then acting all surprised when I start to get feelings for you!”

  I scoff, my face burns up as I try to keep my cool, knowing my boss is within earshot.

  “We have been friends for over ten years. I’m sorry if that’s been a burden for…”

  I stop.

  I hear it.

  I feel it in my stomach- in my chest.

  My heart races at a million miles an hour. My breathing gets quicker and then suddenly, I can’t quite tell which way is up. I close my eyes and pray that I imagined it, that purr, that unmistakable purr that couldn’t have come from anyone else. But it’s there.

  Staring back at me through the steamy glass windows is the all-black metal stallion, and on top of it, is him. He doesn’t take off his helmet, he knows I can’t see him, but he can see me. He knows that even behind a mask, the very thought of his face sends shivers across every inch of my body.

  He grips tightly onto the handle and twists sharply. The engine roars once again. I turn to Dylan; his jaw has dropped even further than mine.

  Nobody can believe it.

  Calvin is back.

  Chapter Three

  I steady my breathing and whisper under my breath, “You are over him.”

  I turn back once more to face the window. He’s taking off his leather jacket and parking up the bike. Every single muscle in his arms is flexing.

  I am so not over him!

  Holding my hand over my mouth before the contents of my stomach flies across the diner, I dash to the bathroom and fall in front of the toilet, my head drooping as I struggle to keep it up.

  But nothing happens.

  I make my way over to the sink; my reflection stares back at me. She looks disappointed. “After all this time, he still does this to you?”

  Gripping the edges of the sink, I try to pull myself together. I hope that splashing water over my face might calm the burning that courses through my entire body, but it just messes up my make-up.

  Hopelessly, I try to wipe away the mascara that stains my cheeks black.

  He can’t see me like this!

  Wait, what am I saying? I don’t owe him a thing!

  A banging on the door startles me, a harsh rattling of the handle follows, and I freeze, begging it to be anyone else but him.

  “Nicola, it’s me, Brian.”

  I throw my head back with relief. But why is my boss so desperately trying to get into the women’s bathroom? He’s not usually bothered about my personal life.

  “Nicola, I think you might want to go out there, your friend is shouting at some guy in the parking lot.”

  I fling the bathroom door open. “Oh, fuck!”

  Dylan and Calvin- that is not a good mix.

  With every ounce of confidence I can muster up, I stride through the diner door and over to Calvin. His pose is nonchalant, he stares up at the sky, ignoring the screams coming from Dylan.

  “Calvin,” I state, loud and clear.

  “Nicola, go back inside, I’m going to get rid of this piece of…”

  I throw a stern look in Dylan’s direction.

  “Go back inside Dylan. I can fight my own battles.”

  Calvin cracks a smile, then quickly looks down at the floor.

  “So that’s what I am, a battle?”

  Each word rolls off his tongue like he’s rehearsed it a thousand times. The sunlight catches every single shade of blue in his eyes and reflects it back at me. He’s the only man I’ve ever known whose hair looks sexier after being in a helmet.

  Who, or what, created this man?

  I compose myself. I can’t hide my feelings from him, but I can control them. I can show him that even though he’s a complete asshole, he’ll never see me cry again. I press my tongue up against the roof of my mouth and hold back the tears.

  “What did you come back for, Calvin? I assume it wasn’t me.”

  “Why would you assume that?”

  I rest a hand on my hip. “Don’t play games with me.”

  Even I’m shocked at just how much sass I am serving. Calvin tries not to show it, but his heavy blinking was always a tell-tale sign of his insecurity.

  “I have some unfinished business and…”

  “And what?” I shake my head.

  I knew he was cocky; he always has been. If anything, that’s what I loved about him. But to ride up here unannounced after two years and profess that he’s here, outside my workplace, for unfinished business. Well, it repulses me. I at least thought he had some backbone.

  “And I knew that if I had to come back to town, the first thing I had to do was come and see you.”

  “Oh,” I stammer. He’s being honest. I’m too angry right now for him to be honest!

  “You know, now’s just not a good time. I’m about to start work and Dylan…” Fuck, Dylan. As if this wasn’t awkward enough already.

  I hesitate, and he gives me that look. The one where he knows I’m angry, but he wants me to see, he’s hurting too. It’s been so long; I had almost forgotten what that face of his looked like.

  “Dylan already caused a bit of a scene, and I really can’t lose this job.”

  “I’ll be around, Nicola. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

  I’m giving in too easily. He can’t just have me at his beck and call after everything he did to me.

  “You’d better not just turn up on my doorstep, or at my work. I’ll let you know when we can talk.”

  I try to turn away before he does, but he’s stronger than me. He simply nods and fixes his helmet. Before I know it, I’m staring after the shadow that just rode away from me, for the second time now.

  Chapter Four

  “Girl, I don’t want to hear another word about him!” Zara rambles some more while I take a mouthful of macaroni cheese, pretending I’m listening.

  “Ah, ah, hot, fuck it’s hot!” I open my mouth and try to breathe, taking a swig of soda.

  “Um, what’s hot? I hope you’re not talking about Calvin…”

  “No, no. I’m just eating my lunch. It burned the roof of my mouth.” I rub my tongue across the burn. That’s gonna hurt for days.

  “Who does he think he is? Riding up on his motorbike five years later!”

  I interrupt, “It’s been two years, actually.”

  “Really? Whatever,” Zara snarls. “You can do so much better than him!”

  I hold the phone up to my ear, but my mind drifts. Here I am, taking my break in a toilet cubicle, eating microwavable mac and cheese from a Tupperware lunchbox.

  But worst of all, I’m despairing over a man that broke my heart in the cruellest of ways.

  “Nicola, are you listening? I feel like you’re not listening.”

  I snap back into the room and remember that I called Zara for advice in the first place.

  “I’m here. I know. He’s terrible, and I’m brilliant, and there’s no way I’m going to let him break my heart all over again. But…” I pause.

  “But what?”

  “But. And I know I shouldn’t and I probably won’t but if I do it’s really not a big deal. But do you think that maybe I should… have the chat? You know, just clear the air so that we can both move on.”

  I can hear the stupidity. Even before Zara has a chance to answer the shame swirls around my head, shouting at me, screaming over every other feeling inside of me.

  “Look,” says Zara, her tone much calmer than before. I suddenly want to pay attention to her.

  “You already know the answe
r to that question. And I get it, it still hurts. You pushed it back and back, but you never really got over it; you just forgot about it. But he left, he was gone for two years. He moved on.”

  I gulp, I don’t think I’m ready for this truth bomb about to hit.

  “Nicola, if you talk to him again, you’re going to fall in love with him, just like you did before, just like you did after every argument because he has this power over you.

  The pain. Oh, how is it so real? How is it possible, that when your heart hurts so much that you can feel it in your stomach? Not like a stabbing, but a dull ache that you just know won’t go away easy, you just have to wait.

  “I don’t want to have to get over him again,” I sniff.

  “See, you remember, don’t you?”

  I grumble something inaudible.

  “Nicola?”

  “You’re right,” I admit. “But you have to agree; you never did properly see what we were like together.”

  “I didn’t have to!” Zara blurts out. “You were infatuated by him! I could see it, Dylan could see it too! The bottom line is, if you let him walk back into your life after what he put you through, then you’re never going to live the life you want. You need to respect yourself in order to be respected.”

  Zara’s right. We say our goodbyes and I hang up the phone. I check my watch, I should have been back from my break three minutes ago, but I need a little longer.

  The strip light flickers above me, my macaroni cheese stares up at me from the bathroom floor. It’s over, just like it always was.

  Back on shift, my manager won’t stop raising his eyebrows at me. I continue to clean down the tables; spray, wipe repeat. I hope Brian isn’t flirting with me.

  I look up at him again- another eyebrow raise. I was almost sure Brian was gay, maybe I was wrong. Ugh, men these days. I feel a tap on my shoulder; Brian startles me from behind.

  “I’m sorry Nicola,”

  I smile forcibly, trying to balance, “please don’t sack me,” with “I will never ever have sex with you, through my smile.

 

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