He went to his room, turned on the light, and put that conversation out of his head.

He might have thought about it. He might have considered butterflies.

But he didn’t.

Because she didn’t remember him.

He thought she did, out on I-25 when he first got close, recognized her, and she peered up at him with those big brown eyes. He thought there was something there.

Then there wasn’t.

It happened again after he was done with her tire. He was sure she recognized him.

Then she didn’t.

In fact, when he first approached her, she looked like she didn’t know whether to scream or run away.

It was low to pretend he didn’t remember her name that day. He saw her hurt. Fuck, he felt it. And he wouldn’t do that kinda shit again.

But that was as far as he’d go.

Her life was fucked and that sucked. Her kid was cute. Unlike her, he didn’t mind bikers, and he looked like her, which was good since her asshole ex was an asshole and that shit was written all over him. Joker was not going to stop the Club from taking her back. Seemed she needed good people in her life, and it was about time she had them. She’d never been good with that, a sworn member of the bitch girls without having the number one quality needed for that crew, being a bitch.

But she’d get her shit sorted. If she was looking to get laid, she’d find that too. With her bigger tits and sweet round ass, all that fucking hair, those eyes, she was the one who just had to crook her finger.

And when she was ready to find a man who wanted butterflies in his bed and wanted to keep them there, she’d find that too. Not a problem.

It just wasn’t going to be him.

If she’d given him a smile and said his name, anytime it hit her while he was changing her tire that she remembered him, maybe.

But that was also doubtful.

He couldn’t deny it sucked, she didn’t recognize him. He couldn’t deny that took a bite out of him. But he wasn’t surprised.

Carson Steele was gone. The only place that name existed was on his license. He was Joker. He knew since he’d last seen her that he’d grown taller. He knew he’d put on more muscle. He didn’t shave and hadn’t cut his hair in years so that wasn’t the same either. And he’d seen a lot, done a lot, fucked a lot, fought a lot since then. He was not the kid she knew.