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

sipped at our drink. My work girls and my college girls had all had a drunken night last weekend and wound up back at my house for boozy karaoke. When Tara popped out of her room, I’d panicked that this was the last straw, but she had taken the mic and belted out some Tina Turner like nobody’s business. Heck, all of them had gotten along just fine – it was me who’d been putting up walls.
    “Please, Tara,” I said. “You’re the only one Darryl’s into. Speaking of, maybe you can actually give him a shot.”
    “Alright, fine, I’ll help. But I’m not going to date Darryl. You’re brother’s nice, Meagan, but I don’t go for hardass types.”
    “He’s not though,” I said, wondering why I was whining when I’d already won my actual fight.
    Tara raised an eyebrow. “He’s not?”
    I gave it an honest thought, and wound up with nothing more than a shrug. Ugh, one more thing to apologize to Darryl for.
    A couple mornings later, I waited alongside her at the diner near one of the corners of little 5 points. The place wasn’t exactly hoppin’ but there was a decent mid-morning bustle. A thin crowd on the other side of the windows streamed in and out of the open boutiques and smoke shops nearby.
    It was enough that the two rough guys I was bringing together might think twice before causing a scene. A very little twice, maybe, but hopefully enough for me to start bridging the Grand Canyon of a gap.
    All I could hope for was Darryl to give Vaughn a chance to catch up to the 21 st century. For Vaughn, well, this was a chance to catch up. He had a way to go, that much was clear, but I could see a light at the end of his tunnel, and I could see he wanted to reach it. My brother counted as exposure therapy. Heck, maybe this would be the first time he’d broken bread with a black man in his life.
    Tara was tapping her foot under the table, humming a little ditty.
    “Are you nervous?” I asked. “I know this is hard.”
    “Pfft. Not even a little. I’m just here to enjoy the train-wreck.”
    I slapped her wrist, but not too hard. Either way, her being here worked for me. The rattling of her foot picked up pace.
    “Here comes the Midnight express from South Atlanta.”
    Darryl was already on his way over. He’d squeezed into a black tee and jeans , and I was a bit alarmed to see a long white bandage across his cheek. The cloudy look he always wore vanished like a snowflake in the sun as he registered who I was next to.
    “Morning,” he said, wedging in across from us.
    I reached over for his cheek, forgetting my plan altogether. “What happened to you?”
    “I won my fight.” He nudged me off and flashed his eyebrows at Tara. “Sup?”
    I rolled my eyes. Daryl was always such a grown up around me that I could forget he was still just a guy. Well, I could endure this cheese.
    “Not much,” Tara said, arms cross firmly on the table. “My evening doesn’t seem that interesting compared to yours.”
    “Oh, pssh. Na. This wasn’t that big a match. I was just clowning around, that’s why I got clocked once. You should see the other guy.”
    “I’ll pass.”
    The waitress showed up right before the silence had a chance to linger. Me and Tara ordered, but Darryl told us to fill up and that he was paying for all of us. I had a smile, thinking of how that opinion might change once he saw the full guest list, but it quickly broke into butterflies in my stomach.
    “So what are your big fights like?” Tara asked as the waitress pulled away.
    Darryl was more than eager to share. I’d told him once or twice that my roommate wasn’t into violence and I’d told Tara that Darryl was more than just his body. Both of them knew, and both of them played their game of push and pull anyway.
    I was shaking my head as Darryl blathered on about some kidney punch, completely oblivious to Tara’s horror, when I saw a familiar face outside. The door opened and the sleek white Marietta local chugged towards us.
    Vaughn