Free Chasing Down Changes (Moroad Motorcycle Club) by Debra Kayn

true that you were only thinking about me the whole time.  You can hate me, but don't lie."
    He opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. Others learned never to question him. He gave no one answers. His private life remained in his control. Weak men showed emotion. To succeed in the world, he had to plan, foresee, and bend situations to his way.
    He had to push forward with his plan and make no mistakes. He closed his eyes again. Tiff asked for the impossible. What he had with Lola was none of Tiff's business, but he'd give her enough information to sleep and begin to bend her toward their life together.
    "I haven't had sex with Lola or any of the Moroad women since I returned." He inhaled slowly and exhaled even slower. "No more questions. I need to rest, and you need to sleep."
    The only answers she'd gain would come from him. Brothers never snitched. Lola would never talk. If it took all fucking week, he'd make Tiff believe in him again.
    An hour later, Tiff's breathing evened out and became shallow. Her body relaxed. Jeremy turned on his side, unfamiliar with lying next to someone else. He enjoyed watching her sleep and the way her body heat warmed the bed.
    He refrained from touching her and soaked up the way the blanket moved when she inhaled, and her breath tickled his skin when she exhaled. The urge to curl his fingers in her blonde hair and wrap the strands around his wrist, tying her here next to him took all his attention.
    She moaned in her sleep. He propped his head in his hand, watching her dream. Her feet nudged the blanket, fighting whatever displeasure only she could see. He no longer understood her needs or wants.
    Tiff used to share her dreams and fears with him. Her teenage nightmares centered on her mom's drinking habits and the fear that Jeremy would stop loving her like her mom had done to her when she put the bottle before her daughter. He always made sure she understood he'd never stop loving her.
    He'd spent many nights rubbing Tiff's back until she fell asleep. He slipped his hand under the blanket and gently laid his palm against her. His chest tightened. Her and her damn backrubs. She used to make stupid bets with him, knowing she'd win, so he'd owe her a rub before they went to sleep.
    Tiff whined and moved her head back and forth against the pillow, agitated and caught in whatever disrupted her sleep.
    "Sh..." he said softly, making light circles across her upper back. "Sleep, baby."
    She calmed and let out a deep breath. A pang hit him square in the chest. He'd botched taking care of her. She'd needed him, and he wasn't there for her.
    Tomorrow, he'd confront his dad and find out what happened while he was gone. He widened his fingers, the distance from his thumb to pinky almost spanned her back. She sighed and lay still. Encouraged, he rubbed up and down her spine with a shaky hand.
    Whatever caused Tiff to fight him came from bigger reasons than him supporting her all these years and expecting her to welcome him back.

Chapter Eight
    T here was only one thing worse than waking up in a strange motel room. Waking up in a motel room alone and afraid Jeremy snuck over to meet Lola for early morning sex.
    Tiff unfolded her arms and walked to the door. She'd already found the extra toothbrush, used Jeremy's hairbrush, and scrubbed all the makeup left over from yesterday off her face. There was nothing more she could do because she had no extra clothes and her necessities to start the day.
    She peeked out the door and found Jeremy standing at the other end of the parking lot talking with Cam. Her chest fluttered. She'd forgotten the raw power father and son projected when standing together.
    She closed the door quietly and stood under the covered walkway not wanting to interrupt them or be anywhere near Jeremy's father.
    The man scared her to death when she was a teenager. As an adult who knew the difference between right and wrong, mentally sound and insane, Cam was bat-shit psycho and living