I gaped at him, too stunned to speak.
What the hell did all of that mean? Shouldn't it make me more worried that he just admitted to liking me all beat up? Why did it sound so... endearing? Why do I feel so guilty now? And what the hell does he mean just because he's a biker?
"Well, there's the crybaby we all remember and love," Psycho said in an almost teasing tone.
I blinked at him, realizing that I was actually crying now. I didn't want to. I definitely didn't want him to see it, but I couldn't move.
"Bly?" Psycho asked, raising a brow and looking at me like I'd just grown an extra head.
"I-I... I-I'm s-s-sorry," I stuttered, my voice shaky as my hands started to tremble. "I... It... I didn't..."
"Just clean yourself up before you come out," he said gently. "I won't tell anyone ab
