Old School: A Bad Boy Biker Romance

by Delilah Wilde

  I didn't last much longer than she did and soon after she came, I followed, finishing inside her. I pulled out and helped her get cleaned up. The two of us were dressed when we spoke again. "That was great," she said shyly, "Thanks for that."

  It was weird seeing Lola, my fierce, feisty goddess acting so sweet and subdued. It was pretty endearing actually. I couldn't help but smile at her.

  "Thank you too, Lola," I said, and I couldn't help adding, "It's always great with us, isn't it?" "Yeah, yeah it is," she beamed, "See, no boyfriend talk!"

  "You literally just said the word boyfriend," I said, but I didn't mean it. It was starting not to sound so bad to me anymore, though it still wasn't appealing. Lola shrugged.

  "Yeah, well you know what I mean. It's the thought that counts, right?" "Right." Right.

  Lola wanted to clean up the office but I told her to leave it.

  "It's your office, why does it matter?" I said, and then I saw the expression on her face, "Unless it's not yours?"

  "No, no it's mine. I guess we can leave it like this." I could see that the mess was making her uncomfortable though, so I picked up the papers and through the champagne in the trash. “Is that better?” I asked and she nodded gratefully.

  I walked her downstairs and outside, until we reached the dreaded moment where we had to say goodbye.

  Lola

  Of course Vince and I fucked in Jennifer's office. Anyone with half a brain could see that that was what we were bound to do, even though I had tried my very best to deny it. Our attraction was ridiculously strong. Every time I was around Vince I felt it. He felt it too. It was like we were two magnets that kept being pulled together against our will. He brought out a carnal, animistic side of me that up until now I had only seen glimpses of. I brought out something in him too, though what I brought out wasn't quite so clear to me. All I knew was that he guy, who I was pretty sure had never slept with the same girl twice, was addicted to me. It was ridiculous and we should have been able to control ourselves more, but we couldn't. It was chemistry.

  Vince even acted like a gentleman and walked me out to my car after our little meeting. He immediately picked up on the fact that all the dents were gone.

  "Wow, the bonnet looks great. They completely buffed out the imprint that my skull left when you ran me over!” he teased. I gave him a playful shove.

  "Shut up, Vince!"

  There was a long pause once we settled down. We had to say goodbye now but we had no idea how to say it. If Vince and I were dating we could kiss and tell each other how much fun we'd had. If we were fuck buddies then he probably wouldn't even have walked me to my car. I waited, not wanting to initiate anything. What were we? It was all up to him.

  “It's starting to get cold,” he said softly. Up until now I hadn't noticed but when he said it a chill ran through my body.

  “Yeah, it's kinda chilly.”

  We kept looking into each other's eyes until Vince spoke again.

  "You know, it's pretty late," he said, his voice low. He was looking at me with such intensity that I suddenly felt shy.

  "Yeah, it is," I said.

  "Are you tired?" he asked. It seemed like an odd question to ask me. Did I have bags under my eyes or something? Sometimes my mascara and eyeliner began to smudge by the end of the day and gave me big black circles that looked like I hadn't slept in weeks. That couldn't be it though. I'd double checked my makeup so many times today.

  "Um, no I'm not. Why, are you?" I said. It wasn't exactly the truth. Our little liaison in the office had used up quite a bit of my energy, but it would be way too embarrassing to admit something like that to Vince.

  "A little," he said, before taking a deep breath, "You know I was thinking."

  "That's new," I retorted, but he didn't laugh at my bitchy remark. He actually looked kind of hurt before he went on with what he had been saying. I vowed to stay quiet now and keep my bitchy comments in check. Now was not the time to be sassy, it seemed.

  "I was thinking since you get so tired and it's such a long commute that maybe I should ride along with you to make sure you get back OK? I can have my bike picked up tomorrow," he gave me a mischievous smile and I knew he was being himself again, "We gotta make sure you don't run over anyone else, don't we?"

  I rolled my eyes at that little jibe but secretly, I was happy. It felt strange but the idea of spending that long ride home that I usually dreaded with someone else beside me was nice. Especially if that someone was Vince.

  "Right. I'll give you a ride home, but only because you look tired. Not because I might run someone over if I don't!" I said. Vince grinned and got in the car. I couldn't keep the dopey smile off of my face.

  Vince

  I wasn't sure what came over me. I just knew that I wasn't ready to say goodbye to Lola. Not yet anyway.

  Every time we'd said goodbye to each other in the past I'd felt confused, annoyed and empty on the inside. This time I wanted to delay that feeling for as long as possible. Even if it meant putting up with Lola's shitty country music and her terrible driving.

  We spent most of the car ride arguing, but in a pleasant sort of way. She was a cat person. I told her that cats were unsociable, cold and frequently rude and that only an idiot would think that they were superior to dogs. She laughed at that and told me that I was projecting my own bad qualities onto an innocent animal and that I should get a life. Her favorite holiday was Christmas. I told her that

  Christmas had become so taken over by advertising that it had lost all meaning. She told me to stop being such a Grinch about it and lighten up. Her favorite ice cream was strawberry. So was mine. We had nothing to argue about, for once.

  "I've made it myself before, with real strawberries. I'll make it for you sometime if you want," she said. I shrugged, not wanting to commit to a particular time though homemade ice cream sounded like a great idea to me.

  "Sure, why not."

  "At least we agree on something. I was starting to have some doubts there," she smiled at me. "Eyes on the road, Lola!" I said, and she nodded and went back to full concentration, "And yeah, it's good that we agree on something. Like one thing. We agree on one thing in the whole world."

  "It's better than nothing, isn't it?"

  The ride home should have seemed long but with Lola next to me it flew by. By the time she pulled up into my driveway I was actually starting to enjoy her terrible music taste. I couldn't say the same for her driving, but even that wasn't freaking me out quite so much anymore. It kept things interesting, at the very least. If there was one thing that Lola was good at it was keeping things interesting.

  I opened the garage door with my cell phone and Lola parked right where she had that first night we met. That seemed like such a long time ago now. In my mind I had almost warped it into a dream. I revisited it so often now that it really felt like one.

  "Thanks for the ride," I said, "It was nice of you to take me home even if you chewed me ear off all the way."

  "Hey, you're the argumentative one. I have a backbone, Vince. If you say something dumb I'm not gonna let you get away with it just because you're cute," she said. The last part seemed to slip out by mistake. Lola gave an embarrassed little shriek and clamped her hand down over her mouth, as if that would do anything. I had heard what she said.

  "Cute? You think I'm cute?"

  Girls had called me lots of things before. Sexy, hot, rugged, those kind of words. Cute made me think of baby animals and fluffy sweaters in the winter time. In theory, I wasn't sure I liked it. In practice, when Lola said it, I liked it a lot.

  Lola shook her head, her hand still over her mouth. She removed it before she spoke.

  "No. Well, yes. A little bit. A little, tiny bit cute," she bit her lip anxiously and looked up at me with those big doll eyes, "I'm sorry. That probably counts as boyfriend talk, doesn't it?"

  I thought about it. Maybe it did. Brett would certainly say it did, but I wasn't asking Brett. If the girls I fucked called me hot,
sexy, handsome, rugged and whatever, why couldn't Lola call me cute? It was harmless, really. I didn't want to be the kind of guy who shot down compliments from hot girls. Especially if that hot girl was Lola.

  "No it doesn't. You can call me cute if you want," I said, though the words sounded strange coming out of my mouth. I didn't feel like myself at all. Lola just seemed to have that effect on me. She blushed when I spoke.

  "So...what does count as boyfriend talk then. Just so I know what to stay away from?" she asked. God, her talents were wasted in fashion journalism. She really asked the hard questions. She should have been interviewing politicians instead of debating which celebrity wore a dress better. They'd find her too terrifying and bitchy to ever bullshit answers to her questions. I didn't want to give a bullshit answer, so I thought of what made sense to me.

  "I think boyfriend talk is pretty much exclusively calling me your boyfriend or saying that you're my girlfriend," I said. It was a solid definition, a really simple to follow guide. Neither of us could fuck that up unless we really tried. Lola nodded slowly.

  "So that's what we wanna avoid then?" she asked. "Yup."

  “And everything else is fair game?” she asked. “Yup.”

  “Does that mean I can give you an embarrassing nickname and put heart emoji’s at the end of every text I send you?” she teased. “Maybe not.”

  "OK, got it," she looked at the time, "God, it is late. I should probably go." "Yeah, you probably should," I said. Neither of us moved.

  The words were on the tip of my tongue but I had to force them out.

  "Or you could stay the night. If you want to. It's no big deal if you don't."

  Having Lola stay the night was the only way that I could take back control. I had to stop beating myself up and letting Brett's words repeat over and over and over again in my brain. I had to do what I wanted to do and not worry what it meant. Tonight, I wanted to be with Lola. Who knew if that was what I would want tomorrow night? Or the night after that? That didn't matter. I would live in the moment.

  Lola's eyes widened and a sweet smile appeared on that beautiful face. She nodded quickly. "I'd be happy to."

  The two of us got out of the car and made our way into the house. I'd left the kitchen light on so that we didn't have to fumble around for a light switch. It was one of the rooms that Lola hadn't seen yet and she was impressed with it.

  "Wow," she said, taking in the white marble surfaces, black tile floor and shiny new appliances. She ran her hand along the smooth, cool rock of the breakfast bar, "This is is really nice."

  I was glad she liked it. I realized that if she was staying over tomorrow that I would be making her breakfast. It was a strange thought, but not an unpleasant one. I could make her pancakes. I'd have to figure out how, obviously, but it couldn't be that hard. I'd still find a way to burn them though.

  Maybe I could get breakfast delivered. Or would that be too impersonal, like I was flaunting my money?

  I shook my head. It wasn't like me to over think things like this. Why did I give a shit what she ate? Lola stretched out her arms and gave a big yawn. Her movements were catlike and graceful, even when she was tired.

  "You sleepy?" I asked, raising one eyebrow. She nodded through another yawn. "Yup. You?"

  "I am. Let's go to bed."

  So I was actually going to bed with a woman without the intention of fucking her. If only Brett could have seen me, he would have laughed his ass off. I even wondered if I should hold her hand on the way upstairs, but I drew the line there. That was too much for me. At least, too much for tonight.

  "I'm just gonna head to the bathroom before bed. I won't be long," she said. I pointed out my second bathroom which was only across the hall from my room. She dissipated inside.

  I couldn't wait for the few minutes I would get to be alone with my thoughts. It was like I was living in a parallel universe. Had I really invited her to stay over? I couldn't remember the last time a woman had slept over at my house. Wait, yes I could. The night Lola passed out on my bed. Before that I couldn't remember anything.

  I didn't get that time alone. When I flicked on the light switch in my bedroom I was horrified to see that someone was already there. For a second I thought it might be a burglar or even a fucking angry ghost, but my eyes soon adjusted to the light.

  It was Sophie, laid out on my bed and smiling demurely at me. Who else would it be? She was wearing a sheer pink baby doll dress that showed off her every asset. It was the kind of lingerie that I was into but all the sexy underwear in the world couldn't have made Sophie attractive to me in that moment.

  "What the fuck are you doing here?" My voice was stern but I kept it low, not wanting to alert Lola. Sophie smirked and sat up, sticking her chest out as if her breasts would distract me from the fact that she had broken into my house.

  "You look really good, Vince. Have you been working out?" she asked. It was pointless flattery meant to distract me and it wasn't going to work. I wasn't an idiot.

  "This is too much. I'm calling the police," I said, pulling my cell phone out from my pocket.

  Sophie's eyes flashed with alarm and she stood up.

  "Baby no! I didn't mean to do anything bad. I just wanted to see you!"

  "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't call the cops and have your crazy ass sent straight to jail?" I asked. Sophie shook her head and I could see that she was about to start blubbering on me again, "And no water works! I'm not falling for that bullshit."

  Sophie wiped her eyes and regarded me seriously.

  "OK, no crying. I just really, really needed to see you. I wanted to make sure you were OK," she said. It was pathetic. Sophie was so annoying and frankly, she was scaring me at this point. Even so, I couldn't help but feel bad for the girl. How could she could so obsessed with someone she had only spent one night with? I'd been wondering that all along but I supposed that it was hypocritical of me. OK, so I hadn't broken into her house but I also hadn't been able to get her off my mind since. Maybe Sophie wasn't much crazier than I was.

  "I am OK But you need to go now, Sophie. And you can't come back this time," I said, as firmly as I could without being unkind. The girl wasn't right. You couldn't just break into someone's house because you thought they were cute. There was something seriously wrong with her. I had been an idiot to sleep with her.

  "Can I just ask for one favor before I go?" "Sophie..."

  "-Just one favor, one tiny favor and I'll leave you alone forever. Please?" she pleaded. If it made her leave my house quickly then I'd agree to almost anything. Anything apart from fucking her again. Her good looks didn't make up for her horrible personality and they never would.

  "What do you want?" I asked suspiciously. My heart was beating fast now, worrying that Lola would interrupt and set Sophie off even more. The last thing this girl needed was to see my new conquest. Lola didn't need that kind of drama in her life either. She was totally innocent in this situation. It was my fault for being dumb enough to fuck the craziest bitch in the city. Sophie gave me a big smile.

  "I want a hug."

  She stepped towards me with her arms open. I don't know what I was thinking. I was tired and stupid and I just wanted her to leave me and Lola in peace. I really thought that this was all that she wanted from me. So I hugged her back.

  It was only a quick hug but when we pulled apart Lola was standing at the doorway, her eyes wide. She wasn't looking at me. She was looking at Sophie's body, scantily clad in that sheer material. "Oh," was all she said. That was it. Then Lola turned on her heel and marched away. I let go of Sophie and followed, trying to call Lola back and explain but it was no use.

  “Lola please, let me explain!” It didn't matter what I said. She was gone.

  Lola

  I should have known. That's all I could keep telling myself. I should have known that a guy like Vince would only hurt me. Bad boys were no good and they never were. I should have known that I was getting too invested in our relationship. Relatio
nship, ha. That was a strong word. It was like calling a puddle a lake or calling a puppy a wolf. We didn't have a relationship. I wasn't even allowed to call him my boyfriend for fuck's sake. Why on earth was I surprised when he invited me to spend the night and there was a virtually naked blonde waiting there for him?

  She was the girl from the store. She had been telling the truth though he had denied, denied, denied when I had brought it up. I had shoved it to the back of my mind and pretended that she'd never said it, but she had and it had been the truth. No wonder Vince didn't want a girlfriend. He had one already, and she was beautiful. Much prettier than me. Yet he still wasn't satisfied with her alone. A man like Vince would never be satisfied and there was nothing that I or any other woman could do to change that. I had been a fool to think that I could.

  The worst part was Sophie hadn't even looked surprised to see me. Had this been planned all along?

  Had Vince been hoping that he'd get the slut who'd nearly run him over to engage in some three way fun with his bimbo girlfriend? The idea made me feel sick.

  It was my own fault, of course. I shouldn't have gotten so invested. I was a total moron to allow myself to imagine we might have more than just sexual chemistry. Sure, Vince made me laugh sometimes but that didn't mean shit. My first impression of him had been right. He was a grade A prick. I didn't need anyone like that in my life.