The Biker's Rules
She looks into my eyes, and hers seem like the deepest ocean holding the promise of undiscovered treasures, and I’m so fucking lucky to be the one who gets to dive into those unexplored depths.
She lifts the necklace, the white-gold heart catching the light. The same skeletal design as my tattoo. Forever etched on the back.
I fasten it around her neck, the pendant settling just above her cleavage.
Great. Now I have to think about the ugly biker again.
I clear my throat.
“Melaena Angélica Blackburn,” I say, suddenly nervous as hell, “Would you do THIS GUY the honor of being his girlfriend?” I smile sheepishly at her, waiting anxiously for her answer. This girl makes my palms sweat.