Porter (Dirty Misfits MC Book 2)
Porter: Chapter 12

The birds chirping outside caught my attention and my eyes slowly fell open. But it was the muscles pressing against my back and the strong arm around my waist that made me smile. I drew in a deep breath, inhaling the natural, musky scent of the man lying next to me.

And when I shifted to stare at Porter’s sleeping face, I couldn’t help but smile.

Last night had been fantastic, and not just because of the sex. After we dried off, we sat downstairs in our towels and ordered all sorts of food. We ordered seven different signature dishes from that Thai place before Porter decided to have some groceries delivered. And before I knew it, my kitchen was stocked with food, meat, snacks, and drinks.

So, I got the bright idea to make him breakfast.

I eased myself away from his grasp, though he tightened it around me a couple of times. His protective nature sent my gears turning, causing my pelvis to heat. But I finally slid out of bed and padded silently over to my suitcase. I dug out some sweatpants and a tank top before making my way downstairs, and as I came into the kitchen a thought crossed my mind.

What now?

I mean, sure, I had come back into town for Brooks’ sake. But if my brother really wanted nothing to do with me, then would I actually stay? Would there be a reason to? I had to admit this house held some dangerous and painful memories that I knew would eventually wash over me. Was it worth the heartache of staying in town if my own brother didn’t even want to be around me?

Then there was Porter. But the second my brother sniffed that out, he’d have it shut down by any means necessary. So, I had Porter now, but I knew I’d never have him forever. And plus, even if I wanted to stay by Porter’s side, he was part of the same crew my brother was. Eventually, he’d get distracted with things and leave me behind as well. That was what everyone in my life did.

Then, where would I be?

“Alone, that’s where,” I whispered.

I pulled out a dusty kitchen pan and washed it off in the sink. The water was still not running properly, but I didn’t care. Memories of what happened with Porter flashed through my mind, making my cheeks flush slightly.

The entire time I cooked breakfast, I wondered if my little tryst with Porter was a mistake. We had so many things already working against us that it almost seemed comical to think that we could actually be together. And plus, it wasn’t as if Porter came over of his own volition. I knew there was something going on with the club. I knew they were in trouble.

Which meant Brooks had sent him to look after me.

Pretty much says it all.

If my brother ever found out what happened between the two of us, he’d be pissed. I knew he’d beat Porter into oblivion, and I wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t run me out of town in the process. Granted, he didn’t have one foot to stand on, seeing as he’d been a shit brother lately. But his overprotective nature would never change. Brooks had always been hovering over my shoulder, making sure no one messed with me. It was one of the many reasons why I took off to L.A. in the first place.

So I could have a chance at living my own life.

Maybe that’s what he wanted—for me to leave.

“Something smells good in here.”

“Ah!”

Porter’s voice caught me off-guard and I jumped in fright. The pan of scrambled eggs almost went tumbling to the floor, but Porter reached around my body and caught the handle of the pan. He studied me with a curious stare as I pressed my back against the knobs of the stove, feeling the heat of the burner playing at the skin against my body.

Then, he placed the eggs on the backburner and took a step away from me.

“Want me to start the coffee?” he asked.

I let go of the breath I’d held. “Yeah, yeah. Sure. I’ve just gotta make some toast and we should be good to go.”

“What’s in the oven?”

“Bacon and sausage.”

He chuckled. “You know the way to a man’s heart.”

My own stopped in my chest. “Heart?”

He peeked over at me. “A figure of speech, Astrid. Don’t fall out on me.”

“No, no, no! I mean, that’s not what—I just—”

He focused on the coffee. “We can sit and talk once we get food on the table. How’s that sound?”

I swallowed hard. “Great. Sounds absolutely fantastic.”

We finished up breakfast in silence before we made our plates and sat down. But still, neither of us spoke first. We kept stealing glances at one another while sipping our coffee or biting into our eggs. However, neither of us wanted to take the first step.

So, I drew in a deep breath to start the conversation before Porter blurted it out first.

“I really enjoyed last night.”

My eyes met his. “You did?”

He grinned. “Kind of obvious for a guy if he enjoys something, right?”

I blushed. “This is very true.”

“I feel like you didn’t quite enjoy it, though.”

My eyes widened. “No, no, no! I thought it was amazing. I just…”

He snickered. “Let me guess. Brooks?”

I sighed. “Yeah. Partially, at least.”

He crooked an eyebrow. “Partially?”

I put my fork down. “Look, I never really explained to you why I just up and left to go to Los Angeles.”

His eyes fell to his food before he took a big bite. “You don’t owe me an explanation for something like that.”

“I really do, though. I don’t want you to think I abandoned you or something.”

He took a bite of bacon. “Seriously, you don’t owe me anything.”

I reached over the table and settled my hand against his forearm. “Porter, look at me.”

He lifted his eyes and I saw nothing but pain behind them. “What?”

I squeezed his forearm softly. “I didn’t leave because of you, or because I didn’t like you, or because we weren’t friends, or whatever it is you’ve been telling yourself over the years.”

He sighed. “Why did you leave, then?”

I licked my lips. “Your drinking.”

His back stiffened and he sat up straight. “Seriously?”

I shook my head. “Porter, you have to understand that watching you spiral into your drinking reminded me of watching my mother do the same thing. And I was helpless to stop it. Just like Mom, there was nothing I said to you or offered to do that made things any better, and watching you lose yourself down the same bottles as her just—it ripped me apart inside.”

His posture softened a bit. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“I’m sorry that I chose to leave instead of being there for you. We’ve always been like family, if anything because of your relationship with Brooks. I’m sorry I didn’t step up to the plate like I should have. Like he would have done for you had he not landed himself in prison.”

He took my hand in his. “It’s okay, Astrid. Really.”

I shook my head. “It’s not okay. I left you. I abandoned you. And I never stopped wondering if you were all right. If you had turned things around. I kept telling myself I’d come back to visit, but then things with work started rolling in and my career took off, and pretty soon an entire year had passed and I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me anyway.”

He smoothed his thumb over my knuckles. “None of what happened is your fault. Not once did I ever feel like you left me. I never felt abandoned, just alone. Even with you around, or the guys, or Brooks, I always just felt alone. And that’s on me.”

“I know what that feels like, though. Like the world is swallowing you whole and leaving everyone else alone.”

His eyes danced between mine. “I’m sorry you understand that.”

I slumped back into my chair. “I just wanted you to know that, okay?”

He nodded. “Is there anything else you want me to know?”

I smirked. “That last night was the most amazing night I’ve ever spent with any man.”

His eyebrows rose. “How many men you been with? You better not let Brooks know. He’ll kill every single one of them.”

I leaned forward. “Including you, if he replaces out.”

“He won’t replace out. And even if he does, I’ll take the brunt of it. I won’t let him come after you like that.”

“It’s funny that you think you have a choice in the matter.”

He leaned forward. “All I know is that I don’t just want this to be a one-time thing. I want to keep spending time with you, if that’s something you’d like.”

And just as I went to stand and kiss him, a cell phone rang off in the distance. A sound that made Porter groan as he flopped back against his chair.

“What is it?” I asked.

He released my hand. “That’s Brooks’ ringer. He’s calling my cell upstairs.”

My head fell back with a sigh. “You need to go get it, then.”

He stood from his feet. “I’ll be right back, and then we can finish this lovely conversation.”

I giggled. “I’ll be here, handsome.”

I watched as Porter’s towel-clad body backtracked down the hallway. He bound up the stairs before he snatched his phone up, and the muffled sounds coming from upstairs sent electricity trickling through my veins. I felt so comfortable with him. I felt safe, wanted, and enjoyed. When he looked at me, it made me feel like he was actually paying attention. Actually registering what I was saying and taking it all in.

Which was more than I could say for my own brother.

But when Porter hung up the phone call, I heard him padding around. And his footsteps didn’t come directly to the stairs. I shook my head and picked up my fork, shoving my face full of food. I knew what was happening. I knew what was going on. And when Porter finally found himself back in the kitchen, he was dressed from head to toe.

“I’m sorry, Astrid.”

I waved him away. “You’re good. I know you need to go.”

He plucked his bacon from his plate. “I promise I’ll be back soon.”

I glanced up at him. “At the very least, promise to call me. Okay?”

He kissed the top of my head. “Oh, you have my word on that one. Just make sure to shoot me a text so I’ve got your number. I left it scribbled on a piece of paper upstairs.”

I smiled softly. “Maybe I’ll make it a dirty picture just to keep you on your toes.”

He growled. “You’re spicy, and I adore it.”

Then, with one last capturing of my lips, I listened as his bootsteps fell toward the front door.

Before he closed it behind him and left me alone in a place I still wasn’t sure I could call home.