She laughs so hard she has to fight to catch her breath. “You’re an MC president now, you can’t say things like, ‘delight.’”

“Babe, I can say anything I want.”

More than ever I need to have that conversation with Lilly.

“Wait.” Lilly taps my arm. “You missed the turn for Alex’s place.”

“No, I didn’t. Chance is staying with Alex tonight.”

“What? When did you—”

“You and I need to talk.”

“Z,” she protests. “You should’ve told me.”

“But then you would’ve tried to talk your way out of it.”

“No, I wouldn’t. I shouldn’t impose on my brother—”

I reach over and grab her hand. “It was the most civil conversation we’ve had.”

“Well, I guess that’s good,” she grumbles and yanks her hand away from me and crosses her arms over her chest. She turns and stares out the window and we both fall silent.

Space and distance. I’ll give her those for now. Once we get to the house, I’m going to hit her hard and fast with the questions I know damn well she doesn’t want to answer.

For the next few miles, I absorb the silence and prepare myself for the fight ahead of us.

Lilly

I’m going to throw up.

Between Z running back and forth from the downstate club and me preparing for the move, we haven’t had a lot of time to sit down and have a heart-to-heart.

Or to dredge up every one of my nightmares from the last few years.

I kind of hoped Z would forget and we could skip this.

Wishful, foolish thinking.

By the time he pulls into the driveway I’m shaking uncontrollably.

“Lilly, we’re home.”

“Not home anymore,” I whisper.

“Anywhere I’m with you is home.” He steps out of the car before I can respond and opens my door a few seconds later. “Come on.” He holds his hand out and I take it. As I step out of the car, he pulls me against his chest and slides his hand down my back and over my ass. “You look so fucking hot tonight.”

I lean up and kiss his cheek, then whisper in his ear. “So do you.”

In response, he growls low in his throat. “Don’t try to distract me, woman.”

“You started it.”

“March your ass inside that house.”

Maybe it’s the lovingly cocky way he says it, but I’m more turned on than annoyed with the command.

Inside the house, I walk directly into the kitchen and flip the burner on under my tea kettle. Z stands in the doorway watching me.

Neither of us seem to know where to take the conversation.

“Do you want some tea?”

“I’m fine.” He comes closer and pours a glass of water. “Meet me in the living room when you’re done.”