Brendan smiles and shrugs. “I hit him. He trying to put your beautiful face in the cake.”
Relief flooding me that it was innocent, I laugh at Benji and he pokes his tongue out at me, a small smile gracing his face. My heart lightens further at his playfulness. I’ve missed it. Things are still pretty tense between us, nearly nine months after our blowout over Brendan. I can see where Benji and my friends are coming from but I can’t face the drama that I know will ensue if I break up with Brendan. Since I haven’t told anyone about my fears, Benji and Joel feel it’s okay to constantly voice their objections to my relationship with him. They normally finish their rants with nasty descriptions of my intelligence. It’s not fun.
“Fuck, I reckon it must be time for presents.” I hear a very familiar voice shout. My heart skips a beat, and my body practically melting, everything that’s wrong in my life fading into insignificance. I search the gaudily decorated, crowded hall for where his voice is coming from, grinning widely when I spot him.
Mik is standing on a chair near the front door with a big smile on his face. His radio silence during the last week had led me to believe that he wasn’t coming tonight, dampening my enthusiasm for the party.
Since Mik was voted as Sergeant at Arms for the MC nearly a year ago, he hasn’t been able to commit to anything because he never knows when he might be needed by the Club. What could possibly keep that bunch of men so busy has me stumped. Mik won’t tell me what he is up to whenever I ask and I stopped asking Dad years ago. I don’t think the Black Shamrocks are outlaws by definition, but I’m pretty sure they flirt with the thin blue line at times.“Mik!” I shriek. “You came.”
I’m running towards him before he has time to jump down from the chair. Brendan grabs my arm, but I shrug him off, dodging the crowd who’ve turned to see who interrupted the speeches. Benji’s behind me trying to get his present from Mik first so I pick up my pace. Benji might be the football star but he’ll never be able to run as fast as me.
Once I’m close enough, I launch myself into Mik’s arms.
He catches me—just like I knew he would—because I’ve been launching myself at him like that since I was five years old. I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck and kiss his smooth cheeks. He holds my weight easily, with his arms folded under my ass, as he plants a quick kiss on my lips.
“Hey, Angel. Happy to see me?” he chuckles, his hazel eyes flashing at me.
I love how his eyes light up when he sees me. He gets a twinkle in them that I’m certain only I create. The feeling’s mutual; the only time I feel as if I’m as whole as I can be is when he’s around. He makes me feel as if the hole in my chest that’s been there since my mom died isn’t as big or as painful anymore. “Of course I am, you big idiot. I thought you weren’t coming.”
