The Biker's Rules
He’s giving me the full stink-eye, arms crossed, jaw tight, as if I personally orchestrated this entire situation just to ruin his night.
The song ends, and the noise explodes again — cheers, whistles, shrieks bouncing off the walls and vibrating through the club. For a few seconds, though, I don’t hear any of it. I just stare at the man on stage. Even from this distance, Damion’s eyes cut through the chaos, green as green can be, almost glowing under the lights.
My throat goes dry. I lift the glass and gulp down half the blue drink in one reckless shot, instantly regretting it as heat slides down my chest.