Undaunted: Knights in Black Leather

by Ronnie Douglas

  A giggle interrupted my kiss-fogged mind.

  When Noah pulled back, I looked up to see a group of teenagers.

  “Show’s over,” I announced, a bit breathless.

  Noah looked over his shoulder. “Get lost. Now.”

  The last giggles died, and the kids left.

  Once it was just us, I said, “You should take me home.”

  “Are you okay?”

  I gave him a small smile. “Not really. I need a little time to think.”

  Noah stared at me in silence for a moment before saying, “I suddenly feel like I should apologize. Did I . . . do something wrong here?”

  “No. No apology needed either.” I reached out and took his hand. “I’m just not sure I could handle the benefits part of this friendship.” I forced myself to look up at him. “When I was fourteen, I discovered kissing and boys, and I was hooked. People got weird, talked, were rude, and I realized that I’d lost track of everything else but boys. I stopped. I decided to be . . . someone else, someone different, someone who had a plan that led to a career of some sort.”

  He squeezed my hand.

  “I guess I’d told myself that kissing wasn’t as much fun as I remembered. I’ve only kissed a few guys since then, and I even had sex with one. It didn’t leave me . . . like this.”

  “Like what?”

  “Wishing I could justify kissing and more,” I admitted. “I like you, and I think we could be great friends, but to get more of that, I might lie to myself and call it something else, something it’s not.”

  “Maybe it could be something else in time,” Noah suggested. “Maybe you could be the girl who—”

  “No,” I interrupted. I swallowed, feeling ten kinds of awful for what I was about to say, but needing to admit to it just once. “If I couldn’t deal with the whole biker thing for Zion, I can’t do it at all. I won’t say I love him. I don’t, but . . . I could. I know it, and unfortunately, so does he.” I folded my arms over my chest. “What I wanted, what you offered was a distraction, but I don’t think I can do this with you.”

  “How do you know?”

  That was the answer, the admission I didn’t want to keep making, but I was already in this conversation so I kept going. “Because I don’t dream of you. Because I don’t watch the door for you. Because I don’t think of you when I wake or want to hear what you did all day.” I looked at him. “I want us to be friends, but I don’t think benefits can work for us.”

  “I’m a big boy, Aubrey. You’re not going to hurt me,” Noah said, unfolding my arms and taking my hand.

  “I want to feel like that . . . physically, I mean.” I made myself look into his eyes. “I want the emotions too, though. I can’t do just physical, not with the feelings I have for Zion. It just feels . . . empty somehow.”

  Noah gave me a smile that didn’t look entirely sincere, but he said, “If you want to be just friends, that’s fine too. Okay?”

  I nodded, and we walked back to the parking lot without speaking. Surprisingly, it felt comfortable instead of awkward. I climbed on the bike behind him, and I let myself enjoy the sheer pleasure of riding—even though Noah wasn’t the biker whose Harley I wanted to ride.

  I liked him, and he was certainly a good kisser. But I couldn’t get past the suspicion that what he was proposing wasn’t good for any of us. He might say he wanted to wait before he dated someone, but I didn’t completely believe him after tonight. I thought back to Ellen’s earlier warning that both boys would fall hard when they fell. I was pretty sure that whatever girl either of them fell for would be exceptionally lucky—but I couldn’t be that girl.

  After Noah pulled his Harley up to my grandmother’s house, I slid off the bike and removed the helmet he’d brought for me.

  Noah stayed seated for a moment. He put one hand on my hip. “Maybe—”

  “Don’t.” I leaned in and brushed a kiss on his cheek. “Be my friend. That’s what we are.”

  “We could be friends who enjoy each other. Nothing’s changed because we kissed.”

  “Liar,” I said. “Maybe that’s normal for you, but—”

  “It’s not,” he interrupted. “But good chemistry isn’t a reason to say no.”

  I met Noah’s gaze and said, “We’re friends, but the sort who won’t . . . have benefits.”

  I turned away and walked inside the house. Noah was a great guy, and after tonight, I was sure that we could have a fabulous time in bed—or against a tree. He wasn’t the one I dreamed of, though. He wasn’t Zion, and my being with Noah would be unfair to all of us.

  My grandmother looked up from the news when I came into the room. “That sounded like a motorcycle.”

  I nodded. “Noah brought me home.”

  “Noah Dash?”

  I nodded again.

  The television clicked off, and my grandmother looked at me for a moment. “I thought you liked your job at Karl’s place.”

  “Noah isn’t . . . he doesn’t . . .” I started. Finally, I managed to say, “He’s not a Wolf.”

  “Just because there are no patches on his jacket doesn’t mean he’s any less a Wolf than the rest of them,” she said gently. “Eli Dash was their president. The club raised Noah his whole life.”

  My grandmother motioned to the sofa, and I sat down. “I’m not in any danger of falling for Noah,” I promised.

  She continued, “Keep it that way. The Wolves keep trouble out of Williamsville, donate to charities, and insist their kids graduate high school. The Southern Wolves—this chapter at least—aren’t as bad as some bikers, but make no mistake, Aubrey, they’re still a criminal organization. I don’t have any problems with you working for Karl or being friends with Noah, but don’t get mixed up in their business.”

  I nodded.

  “And Noah might be a good-looking young man, but he and his cousin Zion have both had a lot of passengers on their motorcycles—and not the same girls very often.” She met my eyes and added, “If being here means you’re going to get involved with either of them, you need to get a plane ticket back to your mother or father right now.”

  “I don’t date,” I reminded both of us, thinking not about Noah but about Zion.

  My grandmother didn’t let it go that easily. “I’m not so old that I can’t tell when someone’s been doing more than riding on a bike. Your lips are swollen, and there’s bark clinging to your shirt.”

  I took a deep breath. “Noah and I are friends. Even if we did . . . kiss, he knows I don’t want a relationship. He doesn’t either.” I felt increasingly guilty as I continued, “You know I’m not staying here forever. I love you, and I love being here with you, but I’m going to leave. I’ll get things sorted out, and then I’m moving back to Oregon. I can’t risk everything for a few kisses . . . and I already told Noah that we wouldn’t ever be doing that again. It was a mistake.”

  My grandmother didn’t reply for several long moments, and then she said, “Just be sure you’re being careful if those kisses turn into something more. There are other ways to throw your plans off than falling in love.”

  Cheeks flaming, I told her, “I didn’t have sex with Noah.”

  She nodded. “If you do, be careful.” Then she stood and bent down to kiss my forehead. Once she straightened, she added, “And don’t think I missed that you aren’t mentioning Zion in your protestations. I heard you were out in town with him, and I know he carried you home a few weeks back too. People talk.”

  “Zion’s a Wolf,” I said weakly.

  She gave me the same look she’d used on hundreds of students, but all she said was “You’re an amazing young woman, and neither of those boys are stupid. They’re a lot of things, ones that are easy to like, but trust me when I say that falling for a Wolf is a path I wouldn’t wish on you.”

  Willing myself not to blush, I said, “I know better.”

  My grandmother patted my shoulder and headed to her room, and I sat in the living room thinking about Zion’s words and Noa
h’s kisses. The one I couldn’t have at all was the one I dreamed of, and the one who was offering me all the fun and none of the strings was someone I could only like as a friend. I couldn’t be fair to either of them, not unless I kept to a strictly platonic friendship. I muffled a grumble over the fact that I’d finally figured out what true desire felt like—only to be unable to do anything about it. Life had been simpler before I’d met Zion and Noah.

  Chapter 18

  I HADN’T EVEN FINISHED my first cup of coffee the next morning when I glanced out the window and discovered that someone had messed up my grandmother’s car pretty severely. Both driver’s side tires were flat, and the hood had been forced open. I had no idea what other damage the vandal had done, so even if I had a way to change the two flats, I’d still be trapped.

  I went outside, pulled the spare from the trunk, and was midway through changing the first tire when my grandmother came outside. I looked up to find her on the porch in her housecoat and slippers, two cups of coffee in her hands.

  “I have another one under a tarp in the shed,” she told me. “Possibly two more.”

  “You have several spare tires?”

  “When I got the new ones, I kept the ones that were salvageable.” She lifted the cup of coffee that I assumed was for me. “Do you have work?”

  “I can take a taxi.” I walked up to her and gratefully accepted the coffee. “I left a message at the bar telling Uncle Karl I might be a little late, but that I’m hoping not to be.” It was a Saturday, one of the busiest nights at the bar, so I needed to find a way to get to work.

  Grandma Maureen sipped her coffee, and after a quiet moment, she returned to the kitchen to fix brunch for us. I thought about the flats. I wasn’t sure if changing them was the right move or not. Even if I did, I had no way of knowing what had been done to the engine.

  Doing nothing wasn’t an option, though, so I set my coffee on the porch step and went to get the second spare from the shed.

  By the time I was done, my grandmother had finished fixing omelets. She also told me that Uncle Karl had called to say he was sending a ride over for me that afternoon.

  A few hours later, I got ready for work and waited for my ride. I expected that ride to be Noah, so finding Zion on my grandmother’s porch when I opened the door was unexpected. He smiled at me in that dangerous way of his and said, “Uncle Karl said you didn’t have a ride to work. I volunteered to come fetch you.”

  “I thought Noah—”

  “He was busy,” Zion interrupted. “I’m not sure what Dash said about m—”

  “Nothing bad.”

  Zion frowned. “So this is still about when I was at the house with you? Or because I was away this week?”

  “I was wrong,” I said quietly. “I’m sorry I . . . touched you.”

  “Don’t be,” he said.

  After a long pause, I said, “I did miss you this week.”

  “Enough that you went out with Dash.”

  “I was there to see you race.” I stared at him. “Even if Noah and I were to end up more than friends, that doesn’t change anything with us.”

  “And did you?”

  “Did I what?”

  “End up ‘more than friends’ with Dash?”

  “Noah’s my friend,” I said, not quite answering the question and looking at Zion’s feet, but then I looked up and met his eyes as I admitted, “I don’t want to know about the things you do for Echo, but even without the details, I know they aren’t legal. You carry a gun. You run ‘errands’ for him.”

  For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then Zion motioned toward the house. “Go get your things.”

  When he stepped back from me, I realized we were still standing in the doorway. I stepped back. “Come in.”

  Somehow he looked bigger once he was standing inside the house, surrounded by Grandma Maureen’s innumerable Willow Tree figurines, vases, and assorted knickknacks. Zion didn’t blend in here at all.

  Then my grandmother came around the corner and saw him. “Zion! I didn’t know that you were coming to pick up Aubrey.”

  “Uncle Karl sent me.”

  “Are you still living with him?”

  “No. I got a place of my own a few years back,” Zion said.

  She nodded and then looked at me, as if willing me to remember what she’d said the night before. Then my grandmother pressed her lips together and gave him a look that would make most men quake. “I best not hear that you’re leading my girl astray, Zion. It’s bad enough that Noah brought her home last night.”

  “Mrs. E., I . . . I wouldn’t endanger your granddaughter, ma’am.”

  “Don’t ma’am me, Zion.” She tsked at him. “And don’t think I missed that you skipped replying to what I actually said.”

  “Killer is here to give me a ride to work,” I interjected, using the name everyone else did as if it would provide distance.

  “Killer?” Grandma Maureen sighed. “I think I liked it better when they were calling you Ladykiller.” She looked at me and reminded me of our talk last night when she said, “This one’s lucky he doesn’t have a passel of kids running around by now. I swear a few of those young teachers were a smile away from ruining their careers over him.”

  “Now, Mrs. E.—” he started.

  “Don’t think I’m going to forget a thing about you just because I’m retired now,” she said with a wag of her finger. She gave me a stern look. “I thought he was going to run out of girls to bed. If he hadn’t gotten a license for that motorcycle of his, he might have. I swear he’s the first boy I met who needed a license so he could get to a new pool of bedmates.”

  “Right,” I muttered.

  Before she could launch into the importance of birth control in casual sex like she had last night, I not-so-subtly steered the conversation into safer areas, reminding her, “Uncle Karl sent him to give me a ride to work.”

  “And Billy and Noah are going to come by to see what’s wrong with your car, Mrs. E.” Zion flashed her a sweet smile. “If it’s all the same to you, we were wondering if you could tell your neighbors that the boys will be walking around the neighborhood the next few nights.”

  At that, my grandmother sighed again. “They don’t need to do that, Zion. It’s generous, but we’re fine.”

  “Echo ordered it.” Zion shrugged. “You know how it goes. We look after our own.”

  She stared at him until he looked like he was going to squirm. Then, softly, she said, “I don’t want trouble, but if there is, I certainly don’t approve of you doing anything illegal about it, Zion. You could do so much more with your life than be here.”

  Zion’s expression was unreadable. “All I’m doing is taking your granddaughter to her job. Noah’s better with cars, so he’ll be looking at your engine. It won’t do to have the two of you out here without wheels.” He shrugged again. “Then a few folks are going to look into your trouble.”

  A long, tense moment passed, and then my grandmother met Zion’s eyes again. “I won’t accept anything if it means either of us is indebted to the Wolves. I know the ride to work isn’t a debt, but the rest . . . I’m not that old, Zion. What are the terms?”

  Zion laughed, breaking the tension. “Echo said you’d ask. He told me to tell you, ‘You taught most of the Wolves, so we’re already in debt to you. This is just us paying respects to you.’ ”

  Grandma Maureen nodded once. “You tell him that I appreciate the help, then. We’ve had a lot of problems out here, and most of us aren’t spry enough to be walking around looking for the ones that are breaking into folks’ homes.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And, Zion, I’ll expect you to bring my girl home safe and sound after work,” she told him. “No detours.”

  I was mortified. For all of my grandmother’s liberalism, she sounded like she thought I couldn’t say no on my own. I could. I had.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he repeated.

  Then she glanced at me. “I’ll see you
in the morning. Remember what I said last night? I’m underlining it today.”

  After a quick kiss on my cheek and a pat to his, she was gone.

  I grabbed my keys and phone and followed Zion to his motorcycle. He handed me my helmet, and I put it on as he swung a leg over the bike.

  He was silent while I got on the bike, and he stayed that way as I wrapped my arms around him. I could feel the steady rhythm of his breath as I held on to him. Still he was silent.

  “Zion?”

  He didn’t answer, but he started the bike and in the next moment we were moving. After only a few rides, I was already hooked on the joy of being on the back of a motorcycle. I had no desire to ride on my own, but there was something gloriously primal about being wrapped around a man on an immense, growling machine.

  If nothing else, I wished I could keep riding as a regular experience. It was more than the power of the Harley, though. There was something perfect about the way my body connected to the rider. I leaned when he leaned, and straightened when he straightened. We were moving together, in tune with the other’s actions without words or complication.

  I admitted to myself that it felt even more natural with Zion than with Noah. Everything felt natural with Zion . . . well, everything but pulling away like I had to keep doing. That felt wrong, but feelings didn’t overcome logic.

  A few minutes into the ride, Zion pulled off the road. He guided the bike over toward a picnic table that was all but hidden by the long, draping branches of a weeping willow. The sudden silence when he cut off the engine seemed dangerous.

  “Hop off.”

  I did, and then I turned to face him as he stood.

  “Just hear me out, Red.”

  “About?” I took off my helmet as he did the same. I walked the few steps over to the picnic table, but I didn’t sit. The branches of the weeping willow provided almost as much privacy as a curtain, giving us a sense of intimacy that made me simultaneously excited and afraid.

  Zion stayed leaning on the bike in front of me. He met my eyes, as if he was daring me to find a lie in them. “I like you, and . . . I care about you.”

  I didn’t flinch away, but I didn’t say anything either.