Jaxson: KINSMEN MC BOOK 1

by Parker, Hazel

  “Sure, Titos okay?”

  I nod once. He smiles kindly and makes the drink. Even though he’s huge, muscled and all, he doesn’t seem like a scary guy. The two dudes at the other end of the bar, though, look like they belong on their monster bikes.

  The place seems older but not like it’s out of date. The wall on my left has dart boards, pool tables under it, and the speakers in the back. The rest of the bar has small circular tables situated in the center, decorated with that logo sealed on the top of the tables. I wonder what it means, but not enough to want to ask.

  “Here you go.” He sets a coaster down and then the drink, the glass is huge, for just vodka cran. But if my car will take a few hours, I don’t want to be bored. I already know I cant finish it.

  “Thanks.” I murmur, but he’s already gone back to counting the drawer.

  I didn’t figure people would be in here this early, I thought bars were a nighttime thing but here they are, at just after four. Whatever is on the television is boring, I use my phone to read old notes for class. I usually hate summer school, but after transferring to Minnesota, I didn’t want my grad school to take longer than two years. Plus if I am going to pay to live here, I need the teaching stipend. It’s a regular, introductory class, so I don’t have to work as much as I thought. Besides, college students either do their work or they don’t, there is really no middle to that.

  I get about halfway through, an hour later when the seat hurts my ass, that I decide to go check on my car. Even if it isn’t ready, a messed-up transmission can only take so long.

  I make the decision to get up but something keeps me grounded in place.

  It reminds me of junior high when I would feel people staring at me in class because of my huge glasses or braces or something. And I would know they’re looking but I wouldn’t dare to check and see. So I don’t. I use the corner of my eyes to glance over, noticing two new men at the end of the bar, but I can’t place which one might be which.

  They’re both tall, dark hair, built like… for the sake of my sanity I won’t describe it. I assume one is only staring at me because I look completely out of place.

  There are no other women in here right now, so I must look incredibly lost to them, or him.

  When I get tired of being on display, I go through with my plan to leave. The loud as hell chair scratches against the floor. I leave a ten because I’m not sure how much it is, and don’t want to stay to ask. I figure it should be enough for a tip, too.

  I walk outside and the sun hits hard, I hadn’t realized the lights were down so low.

  And I didn’t even have a chance to look back and see who was staring at me.

  * * *

  My savings cry when I pay for my car service. It will be fine in the long run, with my next paycheck and stipend from the university, I should be fine. But that mechanic was mean as hell, I would never go back there.

  I make the short drive back to my apartment. A nice, old style building with weird looking carpet and a weird smell that I ignore because the rent is so cheap. With a roommate, it’s perfect. I met her only recently, but I think we’re fast friends.

  I walk in to find Riley on the couch with a reality television show playing and the scent of pizza in the air.

  “Hey, saved you a slice!” she shouts from the other side of the wall.

  An awning with a look through square is right in the entrance, where the purple-gray couch sits in front of the television. We got all our furniture online from Walmart, we’re both on a budget. She’s a local from the town, this was her place that I just moved into. But she was really nice about it, insists that it’s our place now and not just hers. I’ve only known her about a month, but I consider her a friend.

  “Thanks.” I drop my purse, kick off my shoes, and go in search of the pizza.

  I grab a plate of two slices and a beer to meet her on the couch. I can tell she just got back because she is dressed in her very lazy pink pants and oversized shirt. She’s had a few different jobs before settling as a restaurant manager.

  “No problem. I couldn’t finesse any free food from the restaurant tonight.” She giggles.

  I smile at her, with her long brown curly hair and mini frame, she’s always just been cute to me. I met her parents once, very sweet lawyers that live in the big city. She’s mixed, so has the perfect shade of skin and hair, always has dudes coming in and out of here. I don’t think she ever wants to settle down and I can’t blame her. Having fun for a while is better than flames dying out.

  “Anything fun happen today?” she asks me, only making conversation on commercial break. But I’m used to that.

  “My car broke down on the way back.” I went to the university for a meeting with my advisor. I’m in one of the hardest graduate programs that there is, playwriting isn’t open for everyone. Getting in was the second hardest thing I had ever done.

  “I told you that thing is a piece of junk.” She cackles.

  I finish my slice before I reply. “Well it’s what I can afford.” I snort.

  “I get it. So it’s all good now?”

  “Yep.” I down some beer, too sour for me, but I needed something to relax.

  “I waited at this bar across the street, at least I think it was a bar. There were bikes everywhere and some weird logo.”

  She stops chewing and faces me, even when the show isn’t on commercial. She starts laughing hysterically under her breath before it comes full force.

  “What? What is it?” I start to smile but am still confused.

  She shakes her head at me and waves her hand. “Did you see the name?” she asks me.

  I shake my head, “no.” I laugh once under my breath. She takes a deep breath and wipes at her eyes where she teared up from laughing.

  “That’s not a bar. Well, technically it is. But… that’s an MC club.”

  “A what?” I try to think of what that could mean and fall short. I only ever went to college bars and have no idea what that means.

  “A motorcycle club. Oh my god, you’re so cute.” She giggles and nudges my knee. I screw up my face at her and ignore her cackles.

  “What, like from the movies?” I ask her.

  She shrugs. “Sure. It’s kind of like that. I mean, they exaggerate some things but it’s mostly the same.”

  “But…it didn’t seem like they were criminals. There were some guys in there.”

  “Well they aren’t all criminals, dufus. That’s the point of it not being the same.” She laughs once.

  “Oh.”

  “They have bar nights sometimes. Women get in free, sexist but whatever. And they’re usually really fun, they haven’t done it in a while though.”

  “How do you know about it?”

  “You just know people. My restaurant also just caters to them sometimes, when they have meetings or whatever.”

  “Meetings?”

  “Yeah. They have an executive board and everything. It’s real shit.” She grins at me, again with that look in her eye, like I’m cute for not knowing any of this. Maybe I am.

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “There’s one tomorrow. I don’t work Saturday night so I was going to go, I didn’t know if it would be your thing though. But you should come.” Her eyes light up, but she goes back to paying attention to the show.

  I wait until the next commercial break comes and I’ve had some pizza and beer in me.

  “Maybe I’ll go.” I think.

  But it is solely based on the thought of that guy who was staring at me before. That I might see him again. I’d be too chicken to even say anything, but still, I’d like to know more of what he looks like other than dark hair and muscles.

  “Oh yay, you should. It’s perfect, since classes start Monday, right?” she asks. I confirm with a nod.

  “Good then. It’s settled. We leave at ten.”

  * * *

  I wake the next morning in a cold sweat. I sit up, pushing my hair back out of my face and adjusting
how my tank top removed itself over night. I catch my breath, or try to, as I stare into the blank sunlight of my room.

  “That was weird.” I whisper to myself. And lay back down, knowing I won’t go to sleep. I stare at my blank ceiling, going over every scene in my head.

  It was a faceless dream, but I still know exactly who it was about. The mystery guy from the bar. Or club. Or whatever the fuck it is.

  We were in the same place.

  Except I was spread across the counter of the bar top and he was hovered over me.

  His muscles bulging, his dark hair looming over me. That’s all I could surface about him. It’s all I could remember. But in that dream I could feel his touch, imagine his scent and warmth. I remember kissing him, amongst other things. But it goes black there. The cold sweat I’m in now is the only proof of it. I haven’t had a vivid dream like that in a long time… or if ever.

  Not even my last boyfriend could get me that hot and bothered and I dated him for two years. I don’t even know this man. Or if I made him up. I force myself to stop thinking about him, so that I can just go to this party or whatever with regular expectations and stop building him up in my head.

  I finally drag myself up and to the bathroom down the hall. Riley and I share one, but it’s not bad. She’s as clean as me and we’re good about taking turns. I use the bathroom, brush my teeth, and wash my face, before I set off for breakfast. Which always ends up just being coffee until I’m starving later.

  Riley is at work already, which I’m used to. I turn on the news to keep me company. Then I check on emails, but I don’t have any. My mom always texts me and I text her back, she’s the only family I have now. My dad died when I was young and I’m an only child. She’s an insurance rep back home in Iowa City and I see her on all the important holidays.

  I sit with my coffee and a cooking show, the news is too heavy for me, and then I go over notes for the class I have to teach. I don’t want to make them read too much since I hated reading, mostly writing activities and such will be what we do all semester. It goes very fast, since it’s over the summer and only twelve weeks.

  But I can only waste so much time before Riley comes back and we get ready to go. I don’t even know how to dress for these things anymore, I end up in jeans and a blue crop top that isn’t too high on the stomach or low on my neck. My long brown hair gets curled up in loose waves, my makeup minimal but still different than the regular day.

  “Oh, you look hot. I had no idea you could do this.” Riley whistles and puts me on her Snap.

  “Thanks. You too.” I gesture to her tight dress and heels. I stuck with my fancy canvas shoes. Comfort over style has always been my motto.

  We leave and decide to take her car, a relatively new sedan. I almost hope she was just thinking about the wrong bar, but she wasn’t.

  It is the same exact bar and there are even more bikes than last time. We might be the only people in a car.

  “Riley, I need your help with something.” I tell her on the way in. I think I need a wing woman for this situation.

  “What’s up?”

  “I saw this guy yesterday. He was looking at me. If I see him again, I need you to keep me from talking to him.”

  She gives me a funny look. We walk into the loud music and crowd and I have to shout to get her to hear me.

  “He was one of the biker dudes, I think.”

  “What did he look like?” she tugs me with her to the bar so we can get drinks.

  “Brown hair. Tall. Muscles.” I tell her. it’s the only description I got.

  “So why would it be bad to see him again?” she shouts.

  I get knocked into by a guy and he apologizes before moving. He ends up buying our drinks for us.

  “I don’t know. I’ll figure it out if I see him again.” I sip at my drink, too heavy on the vodka and not enough mixer.

  “Let’s dance.”

  I don’t even have time to protest before I am dragged along with her. I sway to the beat with her and find out I’m actually having fun. It’s been a while.

  I get two songs in before that familiar pressure on my neck comes back from yesterday. This time I don’t just let it go until it goes away, I go in search of it. I turn and my hair flips back until I meet two eyes from across the bar. He isn’t standing alone but he is the only one I see.

  His eyes are darker than I thought, his hair thick and brown, flipped off to one side and windblown, probably from riding on his bike. He has on a white shirt under a leather jacket that looks worn but somehow still new, stretched over his wide shoulders and broad frame. His shoulders taper down to a narrow waist and dark jeans, the buckle glinting under the roaming lights. Who ever he is with gets his attention and his eyes leave mine.

  When they do, I realize I had been sweltering under his gaze.

  “Isabelle, come on!” Riley tugs me back with her.

  She finds a quiet spot at the end of the bar. “Was that him?” her green eyes bug out of her head.

  “Yeah…” I nod. I set my drink down. The vodka was definitely way too heavy because I already feel drifty.

  “That’s Jaxson.”

  I raise my brows, should I know what that means?

  “He’s the fucking president. Of the club.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “I’ve lived here for a long time. Everyone around here knows them. Him and his brothers. He’s fucking gorgeous. You should go for it.” She grips my shoulders and just about shakes me senseless.

  “No, thanks.”

  She is just about to say something but she looks past me and her eyes widen for a moment before she smiles wide at me.

  “Bathroom break!” She shrieks, and then she is just gone in the crowd. I make a face but she’s too far gone to go after her.

  I shrug and think about getting another drink, but decide I’ve probably already had enough.

  “Can I buy you a drink?”

  I shiver at the deep voice in my ear. With a sharp rasp to it, an underlying tone of hardness. Darkness. The shiver continues down my spine and arms until I turn to find the source.

  Familiar dark eyes stare me down, but close up I see they are a beautiful brown—but I guess on him, a deep brown. His jawline is even sharper this close, the square of his face and length of his neck. Thick, but not too stocky. And his smell… I inhale sharply and it just about knocks me over. As strong and intense as I dreamt. Sharp cologne with soft smells of the wind and trees.

  “S-sure.” I nod. He probably didn’t even hear me over the music.

  He nods his head back at the bartender and in seconds he comes back with two cocktails.

  “Thank you.” I sip gingerly. I’m not sure why my fingers are sweating or I’m trembling on the inside. It’s just a man, I can talk to men. But this one isn’t just any man.

  “I’m Jaxson.” His hand comes across between us. I take it, but it isn’t just a shake. He grips my hand, hard.

  “Isabelle.” I swallow hard. I have to shout over the music but it comes out regular to my ears.

  “You were here yesterday.” He says, after he releases my hand, and it’s not a question.

  “Yeah.” I blink up at him. Way up.

  He has a good foot on me, and he towers down over me to look back at me.

  “You’re new around these parts.” He phrases again, but not as a question. I’m not sure why he does that. If he’s sure of the idea why ask in the first place. His accent makes him nice to listen to anyway. It’s not anything special, but I can tell that it’s midwestern.

  “Yeah, I just got here last month.” I take another sip of the drink. It pretty much is liquid courage for me.

  He isn’t just any other man and that’s why my chest in my throat. He’s more than hot, he’s sexy and mysterious. He exudes confidence. More so than I ever could. Yet he is right here talking to me, when there are plenty of other women in this bar. Hotter than me, for sure. Tall and confident with tight clothes. Or maybe he�
��s just already made his way through them and I’m new to the market.

  Jaxson… men as hot as him must have body counts out the door.

  “I thought so. You ever been here before?” he sips at his drink and he does even that in a sexy way too.

  “No. Not until yesterday. My car broke down and I needed a place to wait.” I realize I am rambling but there is nothing I can do about it now. That’s what alcohol does to me. I ramble.

  “Our mechanic is a lot nicer than that crook. I bet he charged you way too much for it.”

  “Yeah, probably.” I laugh once.

  Jaxson steps closer to me and my instinct is to pull away but instead I move closer too. I smell his cologne even more and the alcohol on our breaths. His hand slinks around my waist the same time his fingertips brush mine, and he has long discarded his drink on the counter. I stop mine from slipping through my fingers and set mine down too.

  The zap of his skin on mine about sets me aflame, makes my head spin. He reaches down closer until his lips brush against my ear and the heat of his breath runs down my neck.

  “You shouldn’t come around here anymore.”

  I furrow my brows, thinking I heard him wrong. I pull back, staring at the profile of his face until he turns and his eyes meet mine.

  “What?” I widen my eyes. I thought he would say something else. Say something about how he wants to fuck me, or knows that I want to fuck him. The way his fingers are laced with mine and his hand is cinching my waist… that’s not what I expected him to say. It stings.

  The harshness in his voice runs deep, makes me think he really means it.

  His bare fingers are on the skin of my back peeking out of my crop shirt, I feel the moisture on my back slide under his fingers. The heat in the room encasing us. I feel it radiating off him, yet he wants me to leave?

  “People like you… this place is no good for you.” He adds. His face is stern and I know he means it. I see the harshness in his eyes and find it hard to still look away.

  “Fuck you. I can go anywhere I want to.” I pull away from him but he only grips my fingers tighter. Why is he telling me to leave yet holding me close?