by Joanna Wylde
I thought about my apartment in Missoula, and my job.
“So are you looking forward to the reunion tonight?” she asked. “You’re looking pretty sexy with that shiner.”
“You know, I’d forgotten all about it,” I admitted. The bruise had seemed like such a big deal when I’d gotten it. But compared to my home drama, it was nothing. “I think I’ll probably go. I saw Peaches Taylor last night. She looked good.”
“God, her mother was a wild one. We used to party together.”
Of course they had.
“I need to help Lexi,” I said, standing up. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied, but she wouldn’t meet my gaze. “The asthma looks scary, but your sister is exaggerating. It’s not that bad.”
She was lying and we both knew it.
“Okay,” I said, playing along. Then I went to find my sister.
Chapter Seven
Rome
I woke up to find the apartment empty.
So much for morning sex.
Not that I’d actually expected it, but I’ve always been an optimistic kind of guy. What I had expected was to cook Randi breakfast and revisit her little speech about our lack of relationship potential. She probably thought sneaking out on me would end the conversation.
No fucking way.
Not after spending the night wrapped around that sweet little body of hers, which was pure torture. My raging hard-on had made sleep impossible. On the bright side, staring at the ceiling gave me plenty of time to consider the situation. Randi could protest all she wanted, but we had something here. Something that wasn’t entirely related to my frustrated cock. Something that made it clear that this wasn’t just about getting off.
This was about her.
I’d felt it from the beginning. Over the years I’d wondered if I’d imagined it. It’s not like I believed in love at first sight or any bullshit like that. But Randi had always been different. I still remembered the first time I saw her.
It’d been like a primal gut punch.
If I was the kind of guy who believed in love at first sight, that’s what I’d call it. Except I really wasn’t that guy. I believed in lust and sweaty sheets. But last night hadn’t been about sex. Okay, grinding up on her on the dance floor was all about the sex, but I’d actually had fun talking to her, too. I’d never seen anyone get so excited about cleaning teeth, but she was into it. When she talked about it, her face got all shiny and happy because she liked helping people. Later, when I’d seen that bruise covering up all that shine, I’d wanted to kill someone.
Literally.
I’d have done it, too, if she hadn’t held me back. And when I’d accidentally dragged her off the bar stool, I felt like ten thousand kinds of asshole.
To be honest, I was kind of an asshole. When she’d passed out on my bed, I hadn’t taken the couch. Nope. I’d stayed right next to her, and when she’d rolled over and started snuggling into my body, I was happy to oblige. It hadn’t been the most comfortable night of my life, that was for damned sure. Not because she kicked me or snored or anything like that. Nope. The girl was an octopus. I’d had hand jobs with less groping, I shit you not. If she hadn’t been sound asleep, I’d have fucked her six times by now.
Randi’s brain might not be on board with us, but the rest of her body sure as hell didn’t agree. It’d been nearly four before I’d managed to sleep—even then I’d had to rub one out in the bathroom first.
Then morning came, and my little octopus turned into a chicken.
If I wasn’t so frustrated, I’d have thought it was cute. Not knowing how to handle the morning after meant that she didn’t hook up very often, despite that bitchy little speech about keeping it casual. My inner cave man got off on this idea, and it made my cock all twitchy. I checked the time. Nine. Usually I woke up early no matter how late I’d been out, so this was a surprise. I reached for my phone, planning to text her, when I realized I still didn’t have her number.
Fuck.
Tinker would have it. For about two seconds, I considered texting her. Then I thought about Gage reading the message over her shoulder, and all my club brothers flipping me shit because I’d had to go chasing after a woman. I loved every one of those bastards, but they were like teenage girls when it came to gossip.
I’d been planning to swing by Gage’s place today anyway. He had a part I needed for an old bike I’d been fixing up. I’d learned restorations from my dad and grandpa, and while it’d started out as a hobby, these days I made more fixing up motorcycles than I did as an EMT.
An hour later, I found myself sitting across from my club president in Tinker’s kitchen, eating pancakes.
“Randi still talking to you after the black eye?” he asked.
“I think she was terrified,” Tinker said, frowning as she took a seat next to him. I passed her the syrup. “Back when she worked for me, she didn’t go out much. I’m sure she’s more experienced now, but I don’t think she’s ever seen a fight like that. I know I was scared the first time I did.”
Gage reached over and caught her hand, giving it a squeeze. They smiled at each other, and I wondered what that felt like. Having a woman who belonged to you. I’d had a couple of girlfriends over the years, and I guess they were nice. Gage and Tinker, though… They had a lot more than nice.
The back door burst open, and their daughter, Joy, ran into the kitchen.
“I caught a rat!” she declared, eyes wide with excitement. Then she held up a brown and white rodent almost too big for her hand, triumphant.
“Jesus!” Gage said, standing up. “Where the fuck did you get that thing? Did it bite you?”
“Rabies…” Tinker whispered, her face pale. “Why don’t you give it to your dad, okay?”
“It’s okay. Rats don’t carry rabies,” I told her.
“I found him under the porch,” said Joy. “He’s friendly. Look.”
She held it up to her face, and it snuffled her nose like a tiny dog. Tinker swallowed.
“I’m naming it Reaper.”
“You can’t just catch a wild animal—”
“I don’t think it’s wild,” I said. “That’s someone’s pet—look how it’s trying to groom her. It’s probably lost.”
Joy’s face fell. Then it brightened again, and she said, “I can make posters with his picture and we can go hang them up! He can stay until his family comes for him, right?”
“Let’s take it to the garage,” Gage said, glancing at his wife. “We can find something to put it in out there.”
“Okay,” she said, still not looking happy about the whole thing. Gage walked to the door. Joy followed, then darted back to steal a pancake.
“Reaper likes pancakes,” she told us breathlessly. She ran after her dad.
Tinker watched them go, slowly pushing her plate toward the center of the table.
“I really, really don’t like rats.”
“Yeah, I picked up on that,” I told her, trying not to laugh. “They’re actually kind of smart and friendly, though.”
“Do you hear the words coming out of your mouth?” she asked, studying me like I’d grown a second head.
“Used to have one as a kid. Great pets.” I took another bite of my pancake, enjoying the horrified look on her face.
“That’s just nasty.”
I shrugged.
“Thanks for the food,” I said, changing the subject. “Hey, could you give me Randi’s number? I need to drop something off for her, but I don’t want to show up without texting first. She’ll think I’m a stalker.”
“Are you?” Tinker asked, raising a brow. “I like Randi. She’s a good kid.”
“I like her, too,” I said. “And I like the black bra she left on my living room floor this morning, but I think it’d be sort of creepy to keep it as a souvenir.”
“I thought she wanted to go home after the fight.”
“She needed to clean up first. Didn’t want to bring her back
covered in blood and dirt.”
She caught and held my eyes. “Are you going to do anything weird if I give you her number?”
“Yeah, I’m going to make it the centerpiece of my shrine to her bra. Once I have a lock of her hair, my life will be complete.”
Tinker threw her napkin at me, but I could see her fighting off a smile. Then she pulled out her phone, tapping at it. My phone buzzed—Randi’s contact info.
Mission accomplished.
I don’t usually warn people that I’m about to ambush them. Sort of defeats the purpose of the whole thing… except today was all about showing Randi that she didn’t need to be afraid of me—and I was convinced it was nerves that’d scared her off, because despite her tough talk, she wasn’t a one-night-stand kind of girl.
No, this was about the fight. Randi wasn’t used to stuff like that, and she wasn’t some kind of motorcycle club groupie who got off on my bad boy image. She’d been genuinely terrified, and then she’d gotten her face smashed in. Taking her to the Starkwood had been a serious fuck-up on my part, but she had no clue how stubborn I could be.
This wasn’t over, not even close.
I decided to give her ten minutes—fair warning, but not enough time to overthink things. And it wasn’t like the town was big—if she tried to dodge me, I’d find her eventually. I typed the message while Gage dug through an old box in the garage, looking for the part. They’d found an aquarium for the rat, who was now eating little chunks of pancake while Joy watched in delight.
I finished my message and hit send.
Me: You left something at my apartment. I’ll swing by and drop it off in ten
Nothing for a minute, then she answered.
Randi: You can throw it away
Me: Do you even know what it is?
Randi: I have my phone and purse. Nothing else is important
Me: This is an expensive bra. Replacing it won’t be cheap.
Randi: I don’t even like the bra. And I’m busy. Not at home
Me: Thats okay. Ill give it to whoever is there. Or I can hang it on the door. 10 minutes
My phone started buzzing. Randi was trying to call. I slid it back into my pocket, ignoring her. If she wasn’t home already, she’d be there soon.
* * * *
Randi
I found Lexi sitting at the table, sorting through baggies, prescription bottles, and rolling papers.
“How’s Mom?” she asked.
“She seems to be okay now,” I said, sitting down next to her. “You send Kayden outside?”
“Yeah, he’s headed for the park. I gave him my phone so he can play Pokémon Go. He loves that shit.”
“All by himself?” I asked, surprised. She looked up at me.
“How do you think he gets home from school?” she asked. “He’s nine, you know, not six. He walks to school all the time. If he can do that, he can walk to the park.”
She made a good point, although she sounded a little defensive. I picked up one of the baggies, turning it over in my hands. There was a lot of weed there. A lot.
“We need to tell Aiden and Isaac,” I said, although I wasn’t sure what our brothers could do to help. Aiden was twenty-four, and he lived in Calispell with his girlfriend and their baby. Isaac was only twenty. He’d stayed in Missoula with me when Mom and the kids moved back to Hallies Falls. Neither of them had the time or money to do anything about this.
I was the oldest, which meant this was my problem to solve.
“What’s the point?” she asked.
“They need to know,” I said, putting her off. Either I needed to move back to Hallies Falls or Mom and the kids needed to move to Missoula. But Mom hated Missoula—I wasn’t sure I could convince her. Could I petition for custody?
That’d set off a holy war, for sure.
Maybe I’d get lucky and that job would come through.
My phone buzzed as a text came in, and I reached for it.
Unknown: You left something at my apartment. I’ll swing by and drop it off in ten
Rome. Somehow he’d gotten my number. I frowned, wondering what he was talking about. It wasn’t like I’d packed an overnight bag… My purse was on the kitchen counter.
“What’s up?” Lexi asked.
“It’s Rome. He said I left something at his house.”
“Did you?”
“I don’t think so…”
“He’s just trying to get into your pants. Guys are needy like that.”
I wasn’t so sure. Rome hadn’t seemed all that worried when I’d blown him off last night. That morning wood of his hadn’t been fake, but morning wood wasn’t necessarily personal. I reached up and touched my swollen eyelid. It still hurt like hell, although compared to the Mom situation, it was the least of my worries.
Funny how fast your perspective could change.
Me: You can throw it away
Rome: Do you even know what it is?
Randi: I have my phone and purse. Nothing else is important
Rome: This is an expensive bra. Replacing it won’t be cheap.
I’d stuffed it in my purse to bring home, hadn’t I? It only took a second to reach the counter and check. Nope. No bra. I’d been in such a hurry to get out that I must’ve left it with the stuff he’d loaned me… Stupid stupid stupid!
Then I realized that it didn’t matter—the thing was ruined, anyway. I’d planned to show it to Lexi as proof, but we’d been kind of busy. Rome was a distraction I couldn’t afford right now.
Randi: I don’t even like the bra. And I’m busy. Not at home
Me: Thats okay. Ill give it to whoever is there. Or I can hang it on the door. 10 minutes
I stared down at the phone, realizing I was well and truly cornered.
“Did you get rid of him?” Lexi asked.
I shook my head, wondering if my day could possibly get any weirder. Probably best not to tempt fate.
“He’s coming over,” I said shortly, then looked down across the table at all the pot, wondering if we should try to hide it. It was legal in Washington state, but it still felt kind of strange to see it out in the open.
“Randi!” I heard Mom calling faintly.
“I’ll be right back,” I told Lexi. “Can you clean this up for now?”
She nodded, and I went back to the bedroom. Mom was sitting up in the bed. She should’ve looked pitiful—I mean, she’d just had an asthma attack. But she’d combed her hair and put on some clean clothing, obviously making an effort. For an instant I caught a hint of the mom I’d known growing up. Gorgeous, stubborn, wild, and fun. Irresponsible as hell, but always fun.
“You didn’t just take my pot,” she said. “You took my prednisone, too. I was going to come out and get it, but I need to rest a little first, I think. You’re right about Lexi and Kayden, Randi. Something needs to change.”
“So what does that mean?” I asked slowly.
“No more smoking,” she told me, and I could tell she was sincere. I expected to feel relief, but there was just emptiness. She always meant it. She waited for a response, probably thinking I’d be grateful or excited. I managed to smile, hoping it didn’t look too fake.
Not smoking pot wouldn’t be enough to fix this situation. God, I hoped I got that job. I didn’t want to go to war over this, but even if she stopped smoking, the basic facts wouldn’t change.
Someone needed to take care of the kids and for whatever reason, she just didn’t have the right wiring for it.
“I’ll get the prednisone for you.”
Ten minutes went by fast. Mom’s pills were buried in the pile of crap on the table, and it took a while to find them. We threw the rest of her stuff into a garbage bag, and then I climbed up onto the kitchen counter and shoved it into the highest cabinet. I’d just gotten down when someone knocked at the door.
Rome.
I stood with my hand on the doorknob, trying to decide whether to go outside or let him in. Lexi rolled her eyes, the little shit. I opened the
door a few inches. Rome stood outside, his dark hair all rough and messy from the helmet. A black shirt barely contained his gorgeous chest and I could smell his shampoo. Nothing special, but somehow manly.
The kind of shampoo Jack London would’ve used.
Last night, I’d had a really good reason not to see him again. I tried to remember what it was, but that shampoo kept distracting me. Oh yeah… I wasn’t in the mood to hook up, and he wasn’t relationship material. Of course, I’d ended up sleeping with him anyway. I’d just skipped the fun part.
And what was my reward for that?
I’d come home and gotten yelled at for being a slut by a woman who couldn’t see that smoking and asthma were inherently incompatible. Oh, and my whole life in Missoula was about to end because of her, too.
Adulting was bullshit.
I felt the sudden urge to jump on the back of Rome’s bike, maybe order him to ride for the hills. We’d have wild monkey sex and I’d forget all about my responsibilities.
“Hey there,” he said, offering a panty-melting smile. Smiles like that shouldn’t be legal. “Thought you’d want your bra back.”
Rome dangled the tattered black lace from one finger, just out of reach.
“You could’ve just thrown it away,” I said awkwardly. “It’s all torn up, anyway.”
“What?” Lexi said. She wrenched the door open, then stared at the bra in horror. “I can’t believe you did that to my special bra!”
He looked down at the scrap of black fabric, and raised a brow. “You wore your little sister’s bra?”
Lexi snatched it from him, shooting both of us the evil eye as she turned away. Rome ignored her. He reached forward instead, gently brushing the hair away from my eye, studying it.
“How’s it feeling?” he asked, that low voice of his rumbling right down between my legs.
“Like I fell face first on a beer bottle after getting hit by a flying cowboy,” I told him.