Grey (Storm's Soldiers MC Book 2) by Paige Notaro Page B

squinted at the metal coils of tubing, wiped grime off an exhaust pipe with a towel then used it to wipe sweat from the forehead. He beckoned and I traded him a wrench for the towel.
    “You got it worked out?” I asked.
    “Not in the slightest.”
    “Well, I’m not sure what I’m doing in the mud playing nurse.”
    He tossed a grim look at me. “You got somewhere to be?”
    “Not at the moment.”
    “So it’s just a hankering to be elsewhere then.”
    That was no secret. I’d be paying a visit to Meagan later this evening, but she was in class now. Still, no need to wave it in my buddy’s face.
    “It’s fine,” I said. “Just trying to see my purpose here, that’s all.”
    “Why, you’re here to keep me company. This bike’s looking like it’s gonna be a bitch to fix, but it’ll still be easier than getting a ticket to see Vaughn Black these days.” He stood and picked over the case. “Don’t get me wrong, brother, I’m happy you found a new warmth in your life, but your absence is noted.”
    “Y’all know I’m here for you,” I said. “I’ve been more than pulling weight with the weapons deals.”
    “I’m not saying you’re not with the Soldiers,” Thurge said. “Just not around me, or Asher, or even your brother.”
    “It ain’t personal,” I said, though my breath caught a bit even as I said it. I had no issue with them, but the sureness of their disapproval of Meagan left no room for interpretation. Time apart was becoming a mental tug of war between being with her and being around their words.
    He shrugged. “I’m not saying I don’t get it. Been there once myself.”
    “Oh yeah? You and a girl? I don’t remember that.”
    “Yeah you do. Remember that week I kept dodging you that summer after Senior year?”
    “A week?” I snickered and popped back to my feet. “I was shitfaced that whole summer. A week doesn’t even register.”
    Thurge’s hazel eyes flashed in the sun and he slapped the wrench a few times. “A week is plenty for a summer love, you dark-hearted bastard. “
    “Alright, alright. I guess this one’s just lasting a bit longer.”
    Thurge went back to his inspection. I dusted myself off and slapped the towel back down on the seat.
    I doubt he had been quite as bad off as me, but I’d still never known Thurge to be smitten.
    Shit, was that what I was? Lovestruck?
    I’d never been with a girl anywhere near as long as this. Once I’d gotten a good taste of a woman and a good feel of her, things wound down. That would take a week at most, maybe a couple bouts of breakup fucking after that.
    With Meagan though, the time together wasn’t enough, not nearly. It still felt like this was at the beginning of something, not the end.
    “Well,” Thurgood said. “I think the starter is plain dead. Not much we can do about that.”
    “Asher ain’t gonna like that.”
    “No indeed. Good news for you though if you feel like scampering.”
    “Scampering?” I slapped the towel into his chest. “Fuck that, boy. You don’t tell me off.”
    Thurge shrugged, shaded his eyes against the sun and peered around at the orchards. “The girl ain’t free, huh? Alright then. How do you want to occupy the day?”
    “Well, I will need some money for later,” I said. “And playing a couple rounds of poker would be slower and gentler than you just handing it over now.”
    Thurge’s self-assured grin dimmed. It was always a pleasure to be the cause of that. He knew I wasn’t lying about his chances, but he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to prove me wrong.
    I slapped him nice and friendly on the back and we descended into the bar’s gloom. Asher wasn’t keen on the news about his bike, but he was more than up for a chance to win some hands. We got a couple of other boys in, too, and had just settled around a table when the club room door burst open on the other side of the bar.
    Homer and Calix stormed out. Calix looked geared up for war, but the club president’s