It’s been a long three and a half days. After setting off on Friday afternoon, we rode pretty much all day, only stopping to eat, sleep and refuel. The boys had their bikes decked out with something pink, and the girls joining in the ride were asked to wear pink as well, in aid of the breast cancer charity the ride was supporting. It was a fantastic weekend, and I’m so glad I went. Two of the men have old ladies, and I enjoyed meeting and making new friendships with them, but most of all, I loved spending quality time with Switch and being able to take part in something that is his entire world; the club.
Due to my hard work over the last few months, my boss was cool with me taking Friday and Monday off work. After the success of the ball, where we managed to raise over fifteen thousand dollars for the McMahon family, he asked me to plan another event – this time a masquerade ball. I’ve been working overtime for weeks, so, even if he had put up a fight about me taking the time off, I knew I had it worked up anyways.
Switch pulls into the compound and I wait until he cuts the engine before climbing off. My legs are still vibrating and they feel like jelly. My ass is dead and I just want to go for a long walk around the yard to stretch out my muscles.
“You alright?” Switch asks, pulling me into his arms and placing a kiss on my lips.
“Yeah. I loved it. Thank you for taking me,” I smile up into his beautiful blue eyes.
“Glad you had fun, baby. I’ll take you anytime you want.”
“Mmm, I know,” I wink.
He pulls me deeper into his body. His head dips down and his tongue sneaks out to lick across my lips. “I love you, my horny little devil.” His raspy words cause my heart to still before it starts thumping again erratically in my chest.
“Y-you love me?” I choke out.
“Switch?” A female voice calls, interrupting our moment.
My brow furrows in confusion as Switch scowls and turns to face the direction the voice was coming from.
I follow his lead and turn. A woman walks across the compound.
“Fuck,” Switch hisses, only causing to deepen my confusion.
Who is this woman?
“Hey, Switch,” she greets as she comes to a standstill in front of us. Her eyes dart to me and widen as she sees my hand firmly held in Switch’s.
“Uh, hey,” she smiles hesitantly.
“Hi. I’m Jenna,” I hold out my hand to hers, my manners taking over.
She takes my hand in hers in a limp grip. “Um,” her eyes shoot to Switch and then back to me, rapidly. “Amber.”
Holy shit.
I release her hand and stand there quietly.
Well, this is fucking awkward.
The silence echoes through the open air, but the tension radiating of Switch is thick enough to cut with a knife. I squeeze his hand, showing him I’m here for support, even though I’m not sure what’s going on. It doesn’t matter though, I’ll always have his back. No matter what. Because, I love him. I wanted to tell him before she interrupted us, but I was so stunned that he said it first that I couldn’t get the words out.
I’ve known for a while that I love him. With a connection like ours, it’s impossible not to feel love.
“What do you want, Amber?” Switch finally breaks the silence. The coldness of his voice stuns me briefly, but then I remember all the heartache this woman caused him and I understand his tone.
“I wanted to know if we could talk?” She says meekly, her blond hair falling down over her eyes. She swipes it away and looks up at him again.
“Talk.”
“Could we, um, do you think we could speak alone?” She flicks her eyes to me.
Oh.
As much as I don’t want them to be alone, I have to trust Switch. In an effort to be respectful, I loosen my grip on his hand.
He tightens his. “No,” he growls and I look up to see he’s speaking to me. “No,” he repeats, cocking one eyebrow.
“Amber, anything you want to say, you can say in front of Jenn. So, spit it out. What the fuck do you want?”
“I just wanted to say thank you. And, I’m sorry,” she offers the last part whispered and it doesn’t seem as sincere as the first part.
“Don’t give a fuck about thank yous or apologies. What I care about is the why. So, why don’t you tell me why the fuck you made the play you did?”
She looks over at me nervously again, but I stand impassive by my man’s side.
She swallows hard and then speaks. “I got pregnant so you’d marry me. Then, when you did, I realized I didn’t want a baby. They cry all night and you have to look after them all the time. I didn’t want to get fat and I definitely didn’t want to get stretch marks,” she says with a scowl, her earlier seemingly sincerity disappearing before my eyes.