“I’m Michelle, but unless you want to sleep with one eye open I suggest you stick with Micki —” Harley’s laugh interrupts her and she rolls her eyes, Carter throws his head back against the couch as if he’s heard this speech numerous times. He’s got a firecracker on his hands, that’s for sure “— it’s your death wish.” She adds.

Before I can respond to her, Josh returns with Zach close behind him. I sit up on the edge of the couch, resting my forearms on my knees. Josh walks straight past me, back to the game of pool he was playing when I arrived.

“Did you take your shot?” he asks Harley, without turning our way.

“Nah, not yet. But Bubs —”

“What are you waiting for then?” Josh cuts him off.

I lean back into the couch, Harley squeezes my shoulder moving around the couch to finish his game with Josh. Surprisingly it’s Michelle that speaks next. “He’ll come round,” she says with a comforting look in her eyes.

Carter tightens his hold on her. “She’s right, T, you know what he can be like, his fuse has only gotten shorter over the past six months.”

I don’t let myself ponder on that statement too long, the thoughts of what could have happened in the months I’ve been away. I grunt out a response and within a few minutes everyone has resumed their places as if I didn’t just walk into the shop for the first time in six fucking months.

For now, I’m home.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Tanner

Pushing myself up off my knees, I stand and walk over to the corner of the workshop where Zach is still tinkering on a 2002 Harley Davidson Softail. I lean back against the wall, sliding my hands into the front pockets of my jeans.

“Pass me that,” he curses under his breath, obviously having trouble with whatever he is trying to accomplish.

Crouching down, I hand him the spanner. “Need a hand?”

He chuckles. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve forgotten how to work with your hands, pretty boy. Stick to pencil pushing.”

“Fuck off, Zach.” I stand, resuming my position against the wall. “I taught you everything you fucking know.”

He slides out from under the bike momentarily. “You’re a bit feisty, do you need to blow off some steam? I’ve got a couple of girls on speed dial?” He wriggles his brows at me and I wave him off, I’m not in the mood to play his games.

After another round of beers and catching up on the past six months, the boys and Carter’s little firecracker clear out, leaving Harley and I alone. He has a loft above the shop, whereas the boys live together in a place a few blocks away.