by Denise Wells
Alex and I grab a table and order a pitcher and some wings from the waitress. I notice Matthews and Shane taking seats at the bar.
“I had lunch with Remi today,” I tell Alex.
“Really?” he sounds surprised.
“And we are going out Saturday night. That makes three dates, my losing friend.”
“Three? I only count two?”
“Dinner, lunch, and Saturday.”
“Dinner doesn’t count,” Alex says. “You can’t count a date I set up. You gotta do it on your own, man.”
“That’s fucked up, dude.”
He shrugs in return.
“Fuck. Fine. Two then.”
“Dude, I can’t just give you a free pass, a bet is a bet. And with two, you are barely halfway to the end zone.” He pats me on the shoulder.
“I like bets, two what?”
I look up and see Matthews and Shane standing there.
Fuck. I thought they were at the bar.
I say, “Nothing important,” at the same time that Alex says, “Two dates toward thawing the ice queen.”
Fuck again.
“Sounds interesting,” Brad says, then he takes a long pull of his draft beer. “What’s the wager?”
“Twenty-five hundred,” Alex says.
“Hey Alex,” I say. “We don’t need to drag these guys into it.” Hoping he’ll get the hint and shut the fuck up.
“Oh come on now, Bauer,” Brad says patting me on the back, unnecessarily hard. “We’re all friends here. Right?”
“Bauer here thinks he’s gonna thaw my ex,” Alex starts, clearly preening a bit for the other guys’ sakes. It’s all I can do not to cover his mouth with my hand and drag him out of the bar. “But he only has a month to do it.”
“Eskimo Brothers,” Ethan says raising his glass.
“It’s not exactly like how it sounds,” I say.
“No?” Alex says. “You’ve got a month to fuck her twice and take her on four dates. Have you even kissed her?”
“No,” I say, lying. Not sure why I don’t want to share that with Alex. Or Brad and Ethan for that matter. That kiss was between Remi and me, and that’s where I’m going to leave it.
“Who is this chick?” Ethan asks.
“No one,” I say.
“Remi,” Alex says, throwing me under a bus I didn’t even see coming.
Brad chokes on his beer and glares at me.
“It’s not what it looks like, man,” I tell him.
“How would you know how it looks, man,” he says. Then turns to Alex, “You’re making a bet about my Remi? Kat’s Remi?”
“She was my Remi too,” Alex mumbles.
“She’s Kat’s best friend,” Ethan says. “Not cool man.”
“Hey, blame him,” Alex says, backing up the bus and throwing me under it a second time for good measure. “He’s the one who said he could thaw her. He practically begged me to set up a bet.”
“That’s not exactly how it went. And, I didn’t know it was her when we were talking.”
“Pretty sure they were dating for months, dude,” Ethan says.
“Texting, not dating,” I say.
Alex scoffs.
“Don’t even, dude,” I point at him. “You said you’d barely seen her before the tap out.”
Brad and Ethan both laugh-choke on their beers.
“Dude,” Alex says, sounding accusatory. Sure, now he wants to cover up part of the story.
“Tap out?” Brad asks, his voice hoarse from laughing and choking.
Alex hangs his head, not looking at any of us.
“She tapped out in the middle of sex,” I say, softly.
Both Brad and Ethan burst out laughing.
“It’s not fucking funny,” Alex says, his face reddening and his voice rising.
I can’t help it, I start laughing then too. I feel bad for Alex, I do. But it’s pretty fucking funny. And not something I think any of us had ever heard of happening before. Even Alex.
It doesn’t take Alex long before he’s laughing with us though.
“It ain’t right, man,” he says. “That shit just ain’t right.”
“You were robbed,” Ethan says. “Remi’s smokin’.”
“I swear it’s never happened to me before, I mean what in the actual fuck?” Alex says.
“Sure, it’s never happened,” Brad says sounding doubtful. Alex flips him off in return.
“Why don’t you flip him off back, B?” Ethan asks Brad.
“Fuck off,” Brad says.
“Alex, you think you got it bad,” Ethan says laughing.
“Shut the fuck up, E,” Brad says.
“Ask Matthews to flip you off,” Ethan says to Alex.
Alex gives Brad a head nod. Brad hesitates, then flips him off. Only it’s unlike any flip off I’ve ever seen.
“What the fuck’s wrong with your hand?” I ask, trying not to laugh.
Ethan’s laughs dissolve into coughs he’s laughing so hard.
“My fingers won’t do it, man,” Brad says. “I don’t know why. I just can’t get around looking like a jackass when I try to give the finger.”
I’m glad, for Alex’s sake that the focus is now on a shortcoming of someone else’s and not his.
“Back to the bet,” Brad says.
I spoke too soon.
“Tell me how a tap out leads to a fuck bet?”
“It’s not just a fuck bet,” I say.
“Bauer said he could get any girl in bed,” Alex says.
I bury my face in my hands. I’m not sure this conversation could be going any worse at this point.
“That’s not quite what I said. And I didn’t know it was Remi when I made the bet,” I say.
“Did finding out it was Remi change the bet?” Brad asks.
“No,” I say. I’m mad that I’m feeling ashamed. But I know why, it’s because I’m starting to care about her and it’s not just a bet to me anymore.
“Remi is like a sister to me,” Brad says, his voice warning.
“I’m sorry, man,” Alex says.
“This is on him, man, not you,” Brad says to Alex, nodding his head in my direction.
“I’m not going to force her to do anything she doesn’t want to do,” I assure him.
“That goes without saying,” Brad says. I nod and take a large drink of my beer, then refill my glass from the pitcher.
Brad rolls his head on his shoulders, cracking his neck. Then flexes his hands to do the same with his knuckles. “If you hurt her, I will end you,” he says.
“I would do the same in your situation,” I say.
Alex points out something on the TV to Ethan and they are off talking about the game that’s on.
“I’m not going to hurt her,” I say. My phone beeps as I say that. I pull it from my pocket and see it’s a text from Remi. I can’t stop the smile that brings to my face.
Remi: I meant to thank you for lunch earlier, but this guy kissed me right before I went back to work, and it kind of rattled my brain enough to make me forget my manners.
Matthews leans over my shoulder and reads who it’s from before I can pull it away.
“She texted you,” he says, his voice has a tinge of surprise to it.
I like that he’s surprised.
He leans back in his chair and drinks more of his beer, giving me a little space to respond.
Me: A similar thing happened to me.
Remi: You had a guy kiss you too?
Me: I forgot to thank a beautiful woman for joining me at lunch, because a kiss left me rattled.
Remi: Aren’t you a charmer. Wait, I am texting Chance Bauer, right?
Me: Funny.
Remi: I thought so.
Remi: So, about Saturday…
Me: Yes.
Remi: If you are picking me up again, I was thinking I’d get a pair of jeans for the ride. Any recommendations?
Me: The tighter the better.
Remi: And there’s the C
hance I know.
Me: I’ll pick you up at 7pm. We’ll have dinner and then see where the night takes us.
Even though I already know what we are going to do. The Night Moves, the cover band I used to sing for, is in town. It’s been forever since I’ve seen any of those guys and I’m going to take her to watch them play.
Remi: Looking forward to it.
Me: Me too, beautiful.
I set my phone down on the table. Matthews is staring at me.
“You like her.” His eyes widen.
“Of course I like her.”
“No, I mean you LIKE her.”
I shrug my shoulders, not really knowing what to say to that.
“I don’t really know her.”
“I thought you guys dated in college or something.”
“No - we just hooked up at a party, sort of.”
“How do you sort of hook up?” he asks.
I tell him a brief version of the rugby championship party, ending with Remi’s projectile vomiting and the resulting freeze out.
“Dude,” he says gagging slightly. “She threw up and it got in your mouth? Shit. How did you not hurl right then?”
Part of me wants to point out that I’m made of tougher shit than he is obviously, but this doesn’t really seem the time to throw our dicks on the table and compare size. Especially when he’s got me by the short and curlies with this whole Remi thing. So instead, I shrug my shoulders and hope he leaves it at that.
“Dude, did you see that catch?” Ethan backhands Brad in the chest to get his attention. So I turn mine toward the game as well. Happy that, at least for now, the conversation seems to be over. We order another pitcher, more wings, and finish out the game.
It isn’t until I’m on my way home later that I realize that I kind of liked Matthews tonight. Not like I’d be his friend per se, but he’s a decent guy. I can kind of see why Kat fell for him.
Kind of.
Chapter 20
Remi
I end up getting a pair of cuffed boyfriend jeans with a skinny cut, which I pair with a tight, white cap sleeve V-neck t-shirt, and black platform stilettos. I pull my hair partway back with a red bandana and leave my bangs straight. My hair is ready for a helmet, and my outfit is ready for the bike. I grab my own leather jacket and set it by the door. It’s still ten minutes before he’s due to be here.
I check my makeup one more time, then my outfit.
Calm the fuck down, Remi.
My phone buzzes, it’s a text from Kat.
Kat: I know you’re ready, and probably fretting. Grab a shot of tequila and sit the fuck down and relax. It’s just one night. No big deal.
Me: It’s creepy how well you know me sometimes. I love you for that. Thank you!
Kat: Love you more. Have a great time! Try to get laid!
I laugh at that, then head to the kitchen to grab a shot of tequila. I’ve just started to feel the effects of the alcohol when the doorbell rings. I look through the peephole, even though I know it’s him. Then giggle slightly when I see we are wearing near identical outfits, with him in his trademark jeans, white tee, and leather jacket.
I open the door.
He looks me up and down. “Wow. Icy, you dress down well. I mean really fucking well.” He pauses at my tits.
“Eyes up here, big boy.” I push his chin up with my finger.
“I feel like we’ve had this conversation before,” he says with a wink.
I laugh. “I’m ready to go if you are.”
“Let’s go.” He grabs my hand and pulls me out the door. I feel more prepared this time getting on his bike. I scoot right up against his back and wrap my arms around his waist. He taps my hand. “You good?”
“I’m good.”
He starts the bike, and I lay my head against his back to enjoy the ride.
We pull up to a curb a short time later, behind what appears to be a food truck.
“A food truck?” I ask.
“A culinary delight disguised as a food truck,” he says.
I take a big whiff of the air around us. “Oh my God, it smells amazing,” I say.
We round to the side of the truck and I see the name painted on the side, Motion of the Ocean. “Is it seafood?” I ask, excited and hungry.
“Yes,” he says. “These guys go out and catch it in the morning, then come back and grill it up at night. They’re only open a couple days a week. And they switch out the location all the time, but it’s worth tracking them down. The food is that good. And, right now it’s lobster season.”
“You’re speaking my language,” I say.
We order and get our food, me a curried lobster wrap, and Chance the lobster tacos. He finds a bench for us to sit on to eat. He’s right, the food is that good. I moan as I take another bite.
“I’m glad you like it,” he says.
“Oh God, I love it,” I say. “Can I try some of yours?”
He feeds me a bit of taco. It’s divine.
“You have a…” he starts, then reaches up with his thumb and wipes something from the side of my mouth. I dab at my face with the napkin.
“Did I get it?” I ask. He nods. We finish eating quietly. He gets up to throw the trash away, then comes back to sit with me.
“Do I have food in my teeth?” I ask, showing him.
“No, do I?” he asks, doing the same.
“Nope,” I say, feeling lighthearted and free at the same time. Both unusual emotions for me to experience. I lean my head against his shoulder, and he puts his arm around me. I close my eyes and enjoy being this close to him, something about it feels comfortable and right.
He turns his head toward mine and nudges my nose with his. I open my eyes.
“Hi,” I say softly.
“Hey,” he says.
He’s going to kiss me, I just know it.
I want it.
I’m ready.
Instead, he pulls back slightly. “We need to be where we’re going soon. Ready?”
“Sounds good,” I say, trying not to be disappointed. He stands and pulls me up after him and we walk hand-in-hand back to the bike.
He helps me with my jacket, then turns me to face him, his hands on my hips, and my back against the bike.
“I wanted to kiss you back there,” he says.
“I wanted you to kiss me back there,” I say.
He picks me up and sets me on the bike seat, then nudges my legs apart and steps between them. One hand is still at my hip, but the other moves up to my neck, his fingers wrapping around toward the back, and his thumb caressing my cheek.
“How about now?” he asks.
“Now?”
“Do you want me to kiss you now?” he asks, his face now inches from mine.
I nod my head, not sure if I can speak.
This time the kiss is not soft and fleeting. It’s hard and possessive, with tongue and teeth. He growls as he pulls me tight against him with the one hand and holds my head in place with the other. I wrap my legs and arms around him. I can’t get close enough. If I could crawl inside him, I would.
We stay like that, in our own world of kisses, mixed with breaths and feels. So many feels. He slows the kiss after another minute or so, and pulls his head away slightly, resting his forehead to mine. I slowly lower my legs as I try to catch my breath.
“So,” he says, still out of breath. “I guess we’ve still got chemistry, huh?”
I laugh. “Was there any doubt?”
“I think you were a little worried.”
“If I was, I’m not anymore,” I laugh.
“I need a minute.” He looks down. “Riding with a hard-on is not fun.”
“I’d say he likes me.” I point to the bulge in his pants.
“He likes you a lot,” Chance says.
“Think about your grandma,” I say, remembering the similar moment at The Chesterfield.
He closes his eyes, waits a moment, I feel him start to go down. He opens his eyes and says, “So, y
ou’re smart and beautiful.” A question that he makes a statement.
He fastens my helmet on my head, climbs on the bike and starts it. Then he helps me on behind him, I wrap my arms around his waist and we head out.
*
I don’t know how it is that I’m having fun with Chance Bauer, but I am. And, putting my life in his hands when on this motorcycle, but that too is okay. I trust him.
Whoa.
I do. I trust him.
Holy shit.
Even thinking about my Louboutins right now isn’t piercing the little bubble I’m in.
Time to rein it in.
Just not now.
Later.
After tonight.
Because tonight I’m going to enjoy the wind on my face, the vibrations under my ass, and my arms around this delicious man.
We pull up to this little place on the side of the road. It looks small and unassuming from the front. The kind of place that you would pass by without a second thought. Except that the dirt lot surrounding it is already packed with a mix of cars and motorcycles, and there’s a line at the door. I peek around the side of the building and see that it’s long. Like football field long.
Chance helps me off the bike and takes my helmet off. Then, and fuck me for enjoying this, he fixes the bandana in my hair. I reach up to touch it when he finishes, it feels perfect. I look at him questioningly.
“Three sisters,” he says with a smile as he gets off the bike.
“Thank you,” I say. He puts our helmets and jackets away. “Where are we? Is this a bar?”
“This is a live music venue. And… a bar.” He grins.
“Are we going to see a band?” And then it occurs to me. “Ohmigod, are we seeing your band?” I’m excited by the prospect.
“What if I say, yes?”
“Then I say, hell yes. Lead the way.”
We head toward the building. The line to get in is out the door and wrapped around the far side. I lean up, closer to his ear. “What do you think the chances are we can cut through the line since you know the band and all?”
“I’m gonna do you one better, beautiful.” He pulls out his phone and sends a quick text. Then we go stand by the side door near the rear of the building, which opens fairly quickly, and in we go. He grabs my hand and we walk down a long hallway toward a room at the end. The noise from the bar is dimmed back here, but I can tell it’s loud, and a little rowdy.