My head jerked at her creative threat, and I chuckled. “I’ll try to arrange it.”

She nodded and was quiet for a few minutes. Long enough that I wondered if she’d fallen asleep. “If Kat ran away this morning, why’d you leave me last night?” She paused before amending, “My house. Why’d you leave my house?”

It was difficult since she was so damn cute, but I held in the laughter that would’ve had her pushing away. I opted for the opposite and tucked her tighter to me.

“Kat isn’t the only one tied in knots. Glitch got drunk at a bar. I went to get him and took him to the clubhouse to sober up.”

She touched my knuckles. “And this?”

“Glitch was drunk and dumb,” I corrected. “I pulled up just as the fight started.”

That time, I didn’t shift her closer. She moved into me. “Tell him to cut it out.”

“Does it help if I say we ended it quickly?”

She mulled it over. “A little.”

If one little bar fight has her freaked, I need to be careful with what I say. Don’t wanna upset her.

“How’d you find Court of Mayhem?” She lifted her head. “Unless that’s too personal or—”

That time, I couldn’t help it.

I laughed.

I was tired as hell. Sore. Ready to fuck again even though I’d just had her.

But my woman was asking questions about my life instead of pushing me away.

That meant I’d answer every one, even if she had a thousand.

“Not personal.” Putting my hand on her head, I gently pushed so it was on my chest. I wrapped her dark hair around my fingers. “Met Swedes at a taco truck a handful of years ago. I was bitching, saying that just ’cause it was the middle of the night didn’t mean I’d settle for bland-ass tacos. The place was overpriced, and they didn’t have hot sauce. None.”

“A crime.”

“It should be. Swedes and I started talking food, then he saw my Harley, and we talked bikes. He invited me to come watch a game at the clubhouse, and that was it. I did my stint as a prospect, then got patched in.”

“I’m glad to know it’s not just my pasta leftovers that you find offensive,” Mac joked.

I didn’t share that I’d rather eat a party tray of the bland tacos than one bowl of that pasta.

I thought it, though.

“That’s a funny story,” Mac said, sounding almost asleep.

“Bedroom light off,” I said.

I caught Mac’s glare a second before the room went dark.

“I thought you were ordering me to get up and turn the lights off. I was about to wish a motorcycle mishap on your junk, too.”