“Gimmie a break,” I cried out and flopped over on the sofa.
I had no idea how or why this guy had gotten under my skin, but there he was, nonetheless, a beautiful splinter. Well, maybe I had some idea. He was impossibly good looking, sexy, and he saved me from possibly being on the next episode of Dateline. But still, to sleep with him like that. What was I thinking? He probably thinks I’m a slut now and has lost all respect for me anyway, so what does it matter? He’ll be calling at any minute to cancel tonight, just wait and see.
Any minute now.
Ropes
I PULLED INTO the mall’s parking structure and found a safe place to park my bike. I turned off the ignition and let out a heavy sigh. Shopping centers were on a short list of places I dreaded going to. I saw them as temples built to worship brand name gods. Repositories designed to collect the unholy tithes of the poor, unwitting victims of the church of capitalism. It was places like this that helped build my grandfather’s empire and I normally avoided them at all costs, but this was the place Devlin wanted to go, so here I was.
In truth, there was one bright spot in this place and I planned on stopping in before I left. I took the elevator to the second floor and made my way into the belly of the beast. The smell of the mall’s interior was like that of every other I’d been in… a mixture of shoe leather, soft pretzels, and scented candles. It was only as I approached the food court that the smell began to change, in that it got even worse. On top of the original smell, we could now add the stench of over a dozen sub-par eateries and their poor attempts at global cuisine.
I looked around and, like a flower in the desert, I spotted Devlin sitting at a two-top, directly in the center of the food court, surrounded by suburbanite families busy stuffing their faces while gawking mindlessly at their smartphones.
“Have you been waiting long?” I asked as I approached.
“Just a few minutes,” she replied, smiling only slightly, her hands folded neatly on top of the table, a funky green vintage handbag on her lap.
“Oh, good,” I said. I was on time, but Devlin having already arrived made me feel like I was late, and therefore like a tool. “Let me start off by saying how wrong I was about this place. Had I known about the romantic ambiance, I’d have taken all my dates here.”
“This isn’t a date,” Devlin shot back, dropping what little smile she’d had.
“Okay, then, just two people having dinner.”
“Right.”
“So, what’s on the menu tonight?” I asked cheerily, trying to get us back on track. “Taco Charlie’s or Cup O’ Pizza?”
“Derby’s,” Devlin replied.
“Derby’s?” I asked, apparently unable to hide the disdain in my voice.
“Is that a problem?”
“What? No, Derby’s is great,” I replied as straight faced as possible.
Derby’s was not great.
Derby’s had to be the worst burger chain in the entire country. So bad, in fact, that there’s only a half-dozen of them left, and yet, of all the places in the world, this is where Devlin wanted to eat.
“Good. You watch the table while I go order, then we can swap, and I’ll wait for you,” she said matter-of-factly.
“I’ll be happy to wait in line with you. Besides, this is my treat.” I said.
“I told you, this isn’t a date and I’ll pay for myself. I agreed to go out with you, but not out with you.”
“You do know that we fucked last night, right?” I asked, apparently a little too loud for her liking.
“Shhhhhhh, there are kids all around us.”
“I know I asked for a Mulligan, but do we have to act like complete strangers? I get that you’re a strong independent woman and all, and I’m not trying to step on the vibe you’ve got going, but why can’t you just let me take you out?”
“I can, but I’m choosing not to. This is not a date.”
“You’ve made that very clear.”
“Apparently not, because you keep trying to turn it into one.”
“I’m confused,” I said.
“And I’m hungry, so save our table and I’ll be back with my food.”
“Oh, do they serve food at Derby’s now?”
Devlin didn’t reply. She turned sharply on her heels and walked toward the order line, leaving me with a view of the most perfect ass I’d ever seen. Last night was such a blur of activity that I’d barely had time to savor Devlin’s body the way I’d wanted to. Next time I’d take my time, if there was even going to be a next time. Right now, I couldn’t tell what Devlin’s angle was. She’d agreed to going out, which had to mean something, but now she was sending me very clear signals to slow down, if not back the fuck off entirely. She was perfectly fine with letting me put my dick into her but paying for her cheeseburger was somehow off limits. I hadn’t figured out her thought process yet, but I was gonna crack her code if it killed me.
The same childhood memory I’d had last night came rushing back along with a foggy black and white image.
One thousand pieces. No corners, no edges, give up now.
After a few minutes, Devlin returned with her meal. Two fully loaded cheeseburgers and a mountain of French fries drenched in bright orange goo. As if that weren’t enough, she also had onion rings, and a strawberry milkshake, complete with whipped cream and a cherry on top.
“Okay, your turn,” she said, carefully setting the tray on the table.
“Jesus. Are you sure there’s anything left in the kitchen?” I replied.
“I’ve asked you not to use the Lord’s name in vain.”
“I’m sorry,” I replied. “I keep forgetting. I guess you just don’t strike me as the religious type.”
“I’m not.” she said. “And I swear like a sailor otherwise, but blasphemy is just something I feel strongly about. Out of respect for some of the people who helped me out of a bad situation. The only people who ever helped me in my entire life, actually.” She smiled softly.
“Maybe you can tell me about it some time,” I said.
“Go get your food so I can eat,” she said, clearly dodging my attempt to get on the inside.
“I’m good, you go ahead and eat.”
“You’re not going to get anything?”
“I’m kind of picky about what I eat,” I replied.
“How can you possibly look at this tray and not want to tear into it?”
“Maybe the fact that it’s covered in asbestos. Not to mention, I try to avoid eating anything served on a tray.”
“What’s wrong with food on trays?”
“What’s right about it? Dining room trays are for prisons, schools, and mental hospitals.”
“And surfing,” Devlin added.
“What?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never been Derby’s Surfing.”
I shook my head.
“In high school, me and my friends would cut class and go to the Derby’s about a mile away. We’d pool our money together, split an order of sloppy fries and then use the tray to go surfing.”
I stared blankly at Devlin.
“Oh, come on! I can’t believe you’ve never done this. You stand on the tray, crouched down low while holding onto the rear bumper of a friend’s car. Then they drive around, while you surf the parking lot. The set’s over when the asphalt chews up the surfer’s tray or their knees.”
I smiled, happy that Devlin had shared something about her life with me. Perhaps I’d be able to turn this evening into a date after all. “Sounds fun.”
“You had to jump on any chance to have a good time for free when you grew up poor, right?” Devlin smiled.
“Uh, sure,” I said and changed the subject. “So, what do you want to do after we eat?”
“You mean, after you watch me eat like some sort of deranged lunatic?” She laughed before turning serious. “Speaking of deranged lunatics, I want to thank you for saving me—”
“I didn’t save you,” I said.
&nbs
p; “It sure as hell felt like it from where I was sitting. I don’t know why I didn’t act sooner, or just run him over. I was frozen. It took so long just to figure out what the hell Troy was doing there.”
“I’m just glad I was there when I was.”
“Me too.” Devlin paused and screwed up her face. “Why were you there anyway?”
“Why the what now?” I sputtered.
“What were you doing in the parking lot of Sally Anne’s so late? You’d left hours before that and the bar was closed, so what were you doing?”
“You know what? Suddenly I’m craving clam nuggets. I think I will go get in line,” I said rising to my feet.
“Hold on there, bub, sit back down,” she said, and I did as instructed.
I didn’t know if I should tell her that the reason I went back to Sally Anne’s was to talk to her. I didn’t want to come off like some sort of stalker, especially after what she’d just been through with Troy. On the other hand, I didn’t want to lie to her. There was something about Devlin that forced me to be completely honest. Maybe it was because she was so straightforward herself, but I felt it was very easy to cut straight through the bullshit with her, and so I came clean.
“I went back to Sally Anne’s because I wanted to talk to you,” I said.
“Why? I’d already agreed to go out with you.”
“That’s the thing. I was gonna call it off.”
She paused midway through stuffing a wad of fries in her mouth. “You were gonna bail? After all your pestering and begging?”
“I never begged.”
“You totally begged.”
“I wasn’t going to bail. I felt bad about the way I asked you out. It was shitty timing and I felt like you only said yes to get me off your back, so I was going to give you an out.”
Devlin removed the cherry from her milkshake by the stem and took it into her mouth slowly. “I can’t seem to figure you out.”
“Me?” I asked, completely distracted by what I was seeing. Devlin’s tongue around that cherry caused a rush of blood to my cock and flood of inspiration to my brain.
“I see you in the bar with your club all the time, and you never quite seem to fit in with them, do you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Most of the Burning Saints that I’ve seen look like bikers. They’re gruff, mono-syllabic, hairy dudes.”
“And?”
“And, you look like a men’s fragrance ad model.”
“Jesu—” I stopped myself. “You’re quite direct, aren’t you?”
“I can’t stand lying,” she said plainly.
“What does you blurting out whatever is on your mind have to do with honesty?”
“I guess I feel like if I’m not saying what I’m thinking, then I’m lying.”
“That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life.”
“Excuse me?” Devlin raised an eyebrow.
“Some thoughts should remain thoughts, and some earn the right to be said out loud. Occasionally, a thought is special enough to write down, but most of the time, that shit should stay locked up within the grey matter.”
“Don’t you feel like a phony when someone asks you a question and you aren’t completely honest with them?”
“It would depend entirely on the question and who was asking it,” I replied.
“Not for me.”
“Really? The truth is that black and white for you?”
“Life is that black and white for me, and you never answered my question.”
“I’m sorry, was there a question somewhere within your ethics lecture?” I asked, smiling.
Devlin dipped an onion ring in her milkshake before biting into it with a loud crunch. “So, why don’t you fit in with your club?”
“Why don’t you have better table manners?”
“Stop deflecting,” she said between chews.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. The Burning Saints are my brothers and I’d die for any one of them.”
“Sure, sure, I get all that. Brotherhood, bro-code, yada yada,” she said with a dismissive wave.
“Hold on,” I said, feeling the heat of anger creep up the back of my neck. The cat and mouse game we were playing had taken a turn I didn’t much care for. “You can say what you want, or make any assumptions you want about me, but don’t drag my club or my brothers into it.”
“I’m sorry—”
“I’m not done. I don’t know what you’re driving at with these questions, or why you’ve got your guard up, but I didn’t ask you out tonight because I needed a sparring partner. I asked you out because I find you fascinating, and I want to get to know you better.”
“What do you mean my guard is up?”
Just then a vision of penguins flooded my mind.
“One thousand pieces, no corners, no edges, give up now,” I said.
“You’ve said that before. What is that?”
“Do you know what they call a group of penguins?” I asked.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” she burst out.
“Shhhh, there are children present,” I chided. “They’re called a raft.”
“That’s fascinating, but what does that have to do with me being guarded?”
“I learned that a group of penguins is called a raft off the back of a jigsaw puzzle in my grandparents’ game room.”
Devlin looked at me puzzled. “Game room?”
I ignored her question. “On the front of the box was a picture of the largest known raft of penguins in Antarctica. Also, on the front, printed in bold red letters were the words: ‘One thousand pieces, no corners, no edges, give up now.’ I suppose it was meant to intimidate, therefore entice puzzle enthusiasts. You remind me of that puzzle box. Everything about you screams stay away, but you bait your hooks nonetheless.”
“Bait my hooks?”
“Sure. You’re beautiful beyond words and you know it. The way you dress and carry yourself proves that, yet you pretend to be put off when I notice.”
“I’m a pretender?” Devlin pointed a finger at me. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You use words like intimidate, therefore, and entice, and talk about your grandparents’ game room. If I hadn’t seen you wearing your kutte, I’d never guess in a million years that you were a biker, let alone in a hard-core club.”
“So, I have a vocabulary, so what?”
“No, you have money.”
I swallowed. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You’re rich. I can smell it on you. You’re clearly well-educated. You’re always dressed to the nines. You have a pinball machine worth twenty thousand dollars sitting in the corner of the bar collecting dust, and you tensed up when I mentioned knowing what it was like growing up poor.”
“My family has money, so what?”
“I knew it,” she said smugly.
“Don’t turn this back around on me. These ‘social judo’ moves of yours, where you shift the weight of the conversation back onto the other person, is the kind of thing I’m talking about.”
“What the hell do you know?”
“You’re afraid to let people in.”
Devlin wadded up her last napkin and tossed it on top of her half-obliterated meal. “You couldn’t possibly have the slightest clue about who I am or what I’m about.”
“You’re a raft of penguins to me. I’m not afraid of your warning signs. Your hidden corners and edges don’t intimidate me. When I look at you, I see the complete picture of who you are, even if I don’t have all the details yet.”
“Bullshit.”
“Try me.”
Devlin
THIS ROPES GUY was officially starting to piss me off. Not just because he was a smug know-it-all, but because he was right about me putting my guard up. He’d already ruined every attempt I’d made to scare him off early and now he wanted to push my buttons? The thought of him pushing on
anything at the moment made me want to hurl. I’d scarfed down that toxic barnyard of a meal right in front of him and he barely batted an eyelash.
“Ropes,” I said with a sigh. “There’s no way you could possibly know the first thing about me.”
“Let’s make a deal,” he said, shifting tones. “If I can accurately state one true thing about you that no one knows, you’ll agree to treat the rest of this evening like a date.”
“Did you used to work at a carnival?”
“I’m not talking about something trivial like guessing your weight or age.”
“You take a guess at either of those out loud and it’ll be the last coherent thought you ever have, buddy.”
“Do you agree? If I can prove to you that I know something about you—”
I rolled my eyes and threw my hands in the air. “Yes, then it’s a stupid date, whatever.”
Ropes smiled, and his eyes softened. He had the most amazing green eyes I’d ever seen. They were kind and trustworthy, and provided perhaps the biggest disconnect for me between Ropes the person and Ropes the biker.
“Wait!” I interrupted. “First, you have to tell me one thing about yourself. Why are you called Ropes?”
He chuckled. “Why is that important right now?”
“Is it a sex thing?” I blurted out.
“What? No,” he laughed.
“I thought it might be a kinky sex thing and I guess I just wanted to know if I was safe with you.”
Ropes took my hands, which were covered in cold sweat and Derby-Q sauce.
“Devlin. Nothing will ever happen to you when I’m around. Don’t you trust me after last night?”
“No. I saw you beat a creep to a bloody pulp with your bare hands. Plus, for all I know, you paid him to be there in the first place.” I pulled my hands from his. I was getting myself worked up and I wasn’t sure why.
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