“Hi, Jorge.” We both turned toward the pretty, curvy brunette in a form-fitting sparkly top.
“Nora,” Jorge said politely.
Her gaze washed over me before returning to Jorge and giving him a bright smile. “Why don’t you two join our group? We have a booth.”
Jorge hesitated and asked me. “Start over at the booth?”
I shrugged in agreement, followed them over, and stood while she introduced us to a guy named Taylor, who I saw around campus. He stood out with his gelled black hair and trendy clothing. The girl sitting next to him said her name was Faith. She was equally unique with her severely cut, bobbed, brown hair and artsy, vintage dress. I suddenly felt underdressed. When did V-neck shirts and designer jeans go out of style? If I went out more, maybe I would have noticed.
Jorge shook my shoulder brought me back with a touch of annoyance. He chuckled. “I asked if you wanted a Vodka Cranberry.”
“Oh, sorry.” I took out twenty dollars and stuffed it in his hand. “And tequila shots.”
Nora made a face. “None for me. Thanks.”
“We have beer,” Taylor offered, and Faith slid the pitcher forward a bit. “Pick up a couple more glasses?”
“I’ll get another pitcher and our mixed drinks,” Jorge said.
“I’ll help you,” Nora said and moved closer to Jorge, leaving me no choice but to take a seat in the U-shaped booth. Although I sat on the end, and we all turned toward the band up on the stage.
“What’s your major?” Taylor asked.
“Global Journalism,” I responded. My voice went up an octave. At least, I hoped. I exhaled.
“Engineering,” he replied.
I looked over at Faith for her answer, and she said. “Pre-law.”
We nodded at each other. Okay. This was going to be a long night.
After a few minutes, Jorge returned with our drinks. I stood, and Nora slid in. I motioned to Jorge to take the seat next to her, to keep my escape—I mean my spot—on the end. They weren’t bad or anything. I simply didn’t plan for them. I looked down at the lacquered tabletop. Planning—that was my problem. It may have cost me my Gilmore year.
He handed me my mixed drink.
I took a gulp and gagged. They all laughed.
“I suppose the cranberry was just an eye drop for coloring,” I recovered and this time, I joined in, laughing with them.
Jorge handed me my tequila shot glass and held up his own. “To the end of Sophomore Year.”
“Junior,” Taylor chimed in, and we clinked each other’s glasses.
I quickly drained the glass.
Jorge leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Slow down.” Sometimes Jorge turned into my parent and had to be reminded we’re out for fun. “Why? This is what this night is all about. Right?”
“She’s fine,” Taylor said and winked at me. “One glass isn’t going to make her go and ride the bull.” That had them all chuckling again.
I puzzled. “What bull?”
Jorge pointed behind me, and I turned all the way around and looked at a room where the bull was supposed to be, but my eyes didn’t make it to the contraption itself. They were caught on the sex god that was standing in front of the ring.
Brody was here.
His messy, dark hair that hung around his perfectly chiseled face was imprinted in my mind, and my eyes were determined to get their fill. Sure, there were others there, but I couldn’t look away from him. Not just because he was in a fitted, black t-shirt that was clinging to his ripped body. Or the tight dark jeans, hugging his long legs. He was gorgeous. My mouth went dry as I stared, enraptured. He must have felt my gaze on him because he looked my way for a second, and that was as long as it took, for everyone to turn towards the loud “Yee-Haw,” call from the person riding the bull, stealing our moment.
Brody’s attention, like everyone else’s, was fixed on her. I, too, looked at the person riding it and found it was the pretty, pixie-looking girl with the pink bobbed hair and leather cat suit. It was Seren from the gas station. A glance over at Brody taking pictures of her confirmed what I had suspected all along. She was his girlfriend. I turned away, and sat back in my seat, picking up my practically empty glass, and tilting it back to drain the last drop.
“Hey, you can have some beer,” Taylor mused. The band started covering Shinedown’s “I Dare You.”
“Want to dance?” Nora asked Jorge. He looked at me, and I knew he wanted to.
I puckered my brow. “You don’t need my permission.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back,” he said as I stood up to let them out.
“Don’t hurry back for me,” I called to him. I looked at Nora and said, “Keep him out there.”
She gave me a slight nod and took a hold of his hand as they walked over to join the crowd dancing before the stage.
I grinned and filled my glass with beer. “How does the saying go? Beer before liquor, never sicker.”
“Liquor before beer, you’re in the clear.” Faith finished the saying for me. I downed the beer to a whistle from Taylor.
I grinned at him. “If I get sick, it’s your fault.”
“I promise you won’t,” he said grinning at me. “You know The Warehouse is okay, but Fuse is so much better.”
“I don’t know. This band is pretty good,” I said swaying in my seat.
“I promise you the ones there are so much better. It’s less crowded too,” he said leaning forward.
“Maybe we can go there later,” I said looking between him and Faith, who was giving him the stink eye. “I’ll probably leave early,” I muttered.
“You can’t leave without trying the bull,” he said. “I’d like to get a picture of you falling off.”
I reached over and tapped his arm playfully. “No way will I do that now.”
A light drinker at best, I was buzzed, and if I was going to last the rest of the night, I needed to get moving. I got up and made my way to the dance floor. A few guys I passed reached out and tried to pull me to dance with them, but I shook my head and pulled away. I didn’t want them. I wanted the taken guy, by the bull. I turned around and looked at the bullring, and my stomach sank. They were gone. And he wasn’t available anyway, my mind crowed. I swayed and watched Jorge dance with Nora. I was happy for him. I moved away from his sight when I saw him looking at me. Exhaling long, I walked over to the bar and tried to order another vodka cranberry, but the bar was too busy. My bladder was telling me I needed to find the ladies’ room anyway. So I eased through the crowd and found it at the back of the bar. Walking inside, I joined the line waiting for a stall. After I was done, I spared a glimpse at my flushed face in the mirror and went about adding a light powder and lip gloss. I ran a brush through my long wavy mane. There. I was practically perfect in every way.
I frowned. Perhaps I should call it a night. Pushing open the door, I headed back to the main room to leave. My mind already working through the argument I would have with Jorge about leaving when I looked up and realized I was in front of the emergency exit door. I’d gone the wrong way. Great.
“Hey, Beautiful,” Taylor called out, walking over.
I gave him a confused smile once he stopped in front of me. Wasn’t he with Faith? “I went the wrong way,” I said, stating the obvious. I moved to walk past him, but he took my arm.
“I gave you a compliment,” he huffed.
“Thank you,” I answered.
He frowned at me.
“You waiting for Faith?” I asked moving the arm he had a hold of.
“When a man gives you a compliment, the least you can do is thank him,” he slurred.
Having thanked him, I snapped back, “I. Just. Did,” and yanked my arm hard. He had a vice grip that didn’t budge. “Let my arm go!”
“You think you’re too good for me?” he gritted.
I glared at him. Where the hell did that come from? I wanted to get away from him and to try to deflate whatever this was turning into. “No. I don
’t, but don’t you already have someone waiting for you?”
“Why not you? Can’t you be waiting for me?” he said tightening his hold.
“Let go,” I said, my tone sharp.
“What if I don’t?” he said running his free hand over my hip.
I was stone cold sober now and had had about enough of Taylor. I twisted toward him and kneed him hard in the groin.
He bent but recovered quickly enough to grab both my arms roughly. “Why the fuck did you do that, bitch?” he said, shaking me.
I twisted around quickly and broke his hold. I let out a yell.
“Hey.” His eyes darted around.
This time, he wasn’t fast enough, or maybe he caught me at the end of this terrible day. I became a whirlwind of kicks, bites, and scratches. It was something my mother and father had taught me to do if someone ever tried to attack me.
“Fuck, that hurts,” he griped, shoving me away from him.
My back hit the wood panel wall, but it might as well have been the ropes in a boxing ring. I sprung forward ready to have at him again, but someone grabbed him first, slamming him hard against the space next to me. He twisted Taylor’s arm high up behind him.
“Hey, I was trying to get away. She was the one hurting me,” Taylor moaned between wheezed breaths.
“Asshole.” I spat at him, and my foot flew out and connected with his shin. That brought on a slew of nasty name-calling from his mouth. But coming from him, I didn’t care.
“I should let her continue kicking your ass.” A deep voice growled out.
I finally stepped back and looked at my defender, and my adrenaline surged. It was none other than Brody. His wild eyes stood out from the carved features of his face. His black t-shirt was slightly askew, showing off a beautifully etched tribal tattoo as his strong muscular arms held Taylor in place.
“I’m sorry, Piper. I’m going to leave. Please,” Brody said, interrupting my gawking.
Brody tweaked his arm as he looked at me, and Taylor cried out.
I glowered at Taylor. “If he lets you go, you best get the hell out of here.”
“If I see you when I step back in there, I’ll fucking break your arm,” Brody added, shoving him hard. It didn’t stop Taylor from getting up from where he landed and running down the hall.
My adrenaline rush drained fast, and I leaned against the wall and sunk to my knees. I could feel the air on my left shoulder letting me know my shirt was stretched. I was probably flashing my bra, but I sat there, frozen to the spot. My hands were trembling. I saw Brody’s jeans appear in front of me.
“He’s gone,” he whispered.
His hands slowly moved to my thigh and gently took my hands in his. A blanket of goosebumps broke across my skin. His hands were large enough to cover mine. They were slightly calloused and warm. I found them soothing.
“I’m alright. I just didn’t expect that,” I rasped, taking in a shallow breath.
He carefully let go of one of my hands and quietly eased my shirt back on my shoulder. Then took my hands again, holding them and rubbing his thumb against the back of them. Sensations coursed through my body. I flicked my eyes up to his and my lips parted. His eyes were soft and framed in a thick layer of lashes. I gasped. Heady. He was stunning.
He leaned close to my ear. “Are you okay?”
I nodded and inhaled his scent. He smelled of cologne and polished leather.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“I didn’t do much. You kicked his ass,” Brody said against my ear.
I laughed. I was feeling better and turned my head to tell him. I moved too fast and collided with his chin. “Sorry,” I said reaching over to soothe it, but he was on his feet.
“Haven’t learned my lesson eh, Sprite?” He laughed and rubbed his jaw.
I sucked on my bottom lip and apologized again. He gave me a smile that showed off his dimples, and it sent a shiver up my spine. He held out his hand again, and I clasped it and climbed to my feet.
“I’m Brody.” His eyes were gazing into mine as he slowly let go of my hand.
“Piper,” I said breathlessly. My hands touched my warm face.
“I should return you to your group, minus that asshole,” he said.
“How did you know I was with a group?” Was he watching me? A goofy grin spread across my face.
Brody didn’t answer but pressed his hand in the small of my back and guided me forward toward the main room. When we reached the opening, the woman with the pink hair and leather cat suit sauntered up to us.
“Platinum card?” she said, snickering.
He nodded and moved his hand away. “Her name is Piper, Seren.”
My face burned. “It was my mother’s card, not mine.”
She shrugged. “Your card only gold?”
“I’m not rich,” I hissed although my admission didn’t hold much weight, carrying a designer handbag. “My mother is. Now, I guess,” I stammered to them. Wait. Why was I explaining myself?
Shaking my head, I turned on my heels in my quest to bring an end to ‘attack Piper’ day.
I felt a tug on my sleeve. Seren’s facial expression had softened. “Hey. Sorry. That came out harsh, but I really was teasing. I don’t have a problem with your or your mother’s money. Brody does,” she hitched a thumb in his direction, and I looked at him. The distant look was back; I didn’t know what to make of it.
I swallowed. “Well, he’s wrong about me.”
“If you say so,” Brody said putting his hand on his hips. Fuck. Now I was staring at his hips.
“I’m Seren,” she officially introduced herself, and I was thankful for the distraction. “Short for Serendipity. My parents were hippies.”
This news had me smiling. “So were mine. I was this close to being called Moon Beam. My mother went by the name Star for a long time, and my father’s name was Wheeler.” We giggled, and even Brody joined in along with us.
Seren hooked her arm with mine. “Now that we cleared all that up, come and have a pink cosmopolitan with me,” she said, moving us in the direction of the bar. She called over her shoulder. “Piper is on my list.”
“She won’t do it,” Brody said cryptically
I pursed my lips and went along with her to the bar. It only took his approach to get the female bartender to rush over and take our orders.
“Annoying isn’t it?” Seren said when she moved away. I nodded in agreement. I looked around the room and spotted Jorge laughing and dancing with Nora. I let out a sigh of relief. I wanted to see him with someone. I want someone too.
“Your boyfriend ditched ya?” Seren asked.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I said flicking my gaze inadvertently towards Brody whose attentions, surprisingly, were on me. Although, he quickly shifted his gaze to a buxom redhead who appeared out of nowhere and was pressing her boobs against his arm. So much for subtlety.
I tilted my head a little in their direction. “Doesn’t that bother you?”
Seren raised her brows, turned to Brody, and let out a laugh. “He won’t do anything,” she said it loud enough for him to hear.
He turned away from the redhead and lifted the corner of his mouth. “I would if I wanted to.”
I was back to looking at those sensual lips again. Damn him.
Seren rolled her eyes. “You say that about every woman. You don’t have to be a saint. Cole wouldn’t expect it.”
The bartender placed our drinks down in front of us. She pushed mine closer to me and said, “I don’t expect it,” under her breath, confusing me again.
I took a sip and put it down. “Who’s Cole?” I asked.
“My fiancé,” Seren answered as if that explained everything. It didn’t. I was about to ask her more, but she suddenly moved between the redhead, who hadn’t exactly given up, and Brody. His eyes were back on me making my heartbeat pick up again.
“Take a photo will you, Broderick?” Seren said to him.
“Brody,” he grumbl
ed in correction. Nonetheless, he moved closer to the two of us and took his cell phone out. Seren moved back up to me, and we held up our drinks for the photo.
“To kicking cancer’s ass,” she said.
I froze for a few seconds, but recovered and took a sip and placed it down. My eyes roamed over her as if seeing her for the first time. She has cancer. I inadvertently found myself searching for physical clues. The delicate planes of her pretty face now appeared gaunt with a slight dark tinge around her large, hazel eyes. The pink hair covering her head was a wig and was slightly askew.
Seren exhaled long under my scrutiny. “Yes. I have breast cancer, and I just went through my last round of chemo, but I’m all right. I’m an alive-and-kicking biker babe.” She twisted around and showed off the back of her leather catsuit. It was stitched with “Biker Babes” and had a pink ribbon logo with devil tails on the ends. “I’m a Pink Biker Babe. What do you think?”
I smiled at it. “I love it.” I stared at the drink, wondering if I should mention how bad it was to be drinking alcohol.
“Don’t get weird now. I’ve made my peace with my fate, and I decided to embrace the life I have left,” she said, taking a generous sip from her glass.
“Um . . . that’s good,” I replied, not knowing what else to say.
“It is. I’m in remission,” Seren agreed. She lifted her glass to me.
“So, is the Biker Babes a motorcycle club?” I asked.
“Not really. It’s a few of us ladies who love to ride and decided to work on our bucket list now instead of later. We ride in a three-hundred-mile radius, doing what we want to do on our list. Then meet up to ride on together. We’re taking on the USA.” She took a drink again.
“Wow, that sounds incredible,” I gushed. My journalist’s ears perked up at the story. This was a wow if ever I’d heard one. I started firing questions at her as my excitement grew. “Is this a private club? Do you have a Twitter page, Go-Fund-Me, blog, videos? How are you archiving this?”
Piper Dreams: Dream it, Seize it, Live it. (Dreams Series Book 1) Page 5