Biker's Virgin (An MC Romance)

by Claire Adams

  "You’re gonna put me up somewhere?" I asked her.

  "We're finding you a house," she announced. I laughed a little. Same old Tiff.

  Our mom dying hit us both in different ways. I became protective of her, but then she became the person who tried to make sure everything was going smoothly. It had kicked whatever latent house-manager skills she had inside her into high gear. If losing Mom had made me cautious about who she hung out with, it had made her feel like making sure everyone was happy was her job.

  "How are you going to do that?"

  "I'm not doing anything, we're doing it together. And the first thing you need to do is get your ass downstairs. Hurry up, you're driving," she said, leaving with a smirk.

  She definitely wasn't wrong about me needing to leave. I was used to having my own space, and I didn't need to be staying here. Dad was just nice enough to let me. I had had a couple down days, but it wasn't going to last, being in my own place, probably somewhere closer to campus since I'd be going back soon was a good idea.

  Also, I was way too old to not be able to bring girls home because I lived in my dad's place – I wasn't going to argue with her there. I was dressed in ten minutes, and we were out the door in twenty.

  I drove while she read out the addresses and features of the properties we were going to visit. The first place was an open house. It was big, so I knew already that I didn't want it. Tiff still insisted that we at least look at it. It had three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a backyard. The real estate agent mentioned family and the school district enough times for me to let him know we weren't a couple. People made that mistake sometimes. After that, he flirted shamelessly with Tiff until we left.

  The next one was being rented out by the owners, an older couple who lived one house down. It was better; still too big, but in my budget. Too bad it was almost all the way out in Richmond Heights. Trying to get to school from there just wouldn't be worth it. It was lunch by the time we had finished seeing and rejecting house number three for much the same reason. We stopped at a cafe before heading to the last one.

  Even though the whole morning had been unsuccessful, it had been nice having someone to do this with. Tiff talked about school, her job managing a restaurant when she wasn't in class, asked me what I was doing next now that I was back. I noticed she never brought Veronica up, and I left it alone this time.

  "This one better be good," I threatened Tiff as we finally pulled up to the last house. It was another one that the owners were renting out. It was a single story with no garage. It had a small back and front yard and just two bedrooms. This owner was a woman not that much older than us, renting it since she had gotten married and was moving out of state with her husband.

  "It's smaller than the others, but the owner was really nice when I talked to her. I thought it was worth a shot," Tiff said. I was living alone so really one bedroom was all I needed; the other would just stay empty. The owner, Gloria, led us through the space. The kitchen was small but big enough, central cooling and heat, two bathrooms, one attached to the master bedroom, and it was a fifteen-minute drive to school.

  "I think this is the one," I whispered to Tiff as the tour came to an end. Gloria was apologetically telling us about some fire damage that the house had gotten twenty years ago. I didn't care. I was sold.

  "Are you sure? I can come up with some more places to see tomorrow."

  "We'll take it," I said loudly, cutting Gloria off.

  "You will?" she asked, relieved that I was taking the place off her hands.

  "How soon can we put it on paper?" I asked. Tiffany tried to interrupt, but I didn't let her. This was the place. Chances were it was going to be temporary, but I still liked it. It had character. Gloria said I could sign for it immediately if I was ready. Half an hour later, Tiff and I were back in her car on the way to my dad's house. I had to pack; I was going to start moving out the next day.

  "I still think you should have held out," she said from the passenger seat.

  "You didn't like it? Good. That means I don't have to deal with you coming over to hang out," I joked.

  "As long as you like it, I guess," she said. "The kitchen was small, but it had a nice stove. The little patio out the back was cute, too, you know; for dates and stuff," she said.

  "Dates? I haven't been on one of those for years."

  "I think you should get back out there."

  "I just got back, Tiff."

  "But you were deployed. Wasn't it just a sausage-party for a whole year over there?"

  "There are female service members, Tiffany," I said, shaking my head.

  "They don't count. You can't get hot and heavy in the middle of a war zone," she said.

  "Please stop," I said, not really wanting to discuss my sex life with my little sister. I didn't want to tell her she was right, I hadn't been with anyone since Veronica, but I also didn't really want to tell her what a lot of other people got up to when we were deployed. When you put men and women together in one place for a long time, the inevitable happened. Sometimes with other service members, sometimes with locals, mostly consensual, but sometimes not. That was what nobody liked to bring up when they talked about deployed service members overseas.

  "I'm just saying, you should go on a date. Start meeting people again."

  "Tiffany, first you play real estate agent and then you play matchmaker? What gives? Why are you trying to get rid of me?"

  "I'm not. I just thought you would maybe like to get into a normal routine. Meeting people, having normal relationships, and becoming a civilian again. I don't know what you saw over there or what they made you do. It's just... I've heard what happens to a lot of veterans when they come back home."

  "Tiff, you have nothing to worry about, really," I insisted.

  "It's still going to make me feel better if I know you're doing normal stuff and can still talk to people."

  "What do you think happened over there?"

  "Come on, Roman," she said sulkily. She was serious. I could tell she meant what she said when she said she was worried about me. I didn't want to tell her not to be because that wouldn't convince her.

  "I'm fine. I swear. Just to show you. I'll go on this date with your work friend."

  "She's great, you're gonna love her."

  "Whoa, I said I would go on a date with her. No one said anything about love."

  "Whatever, you know what I mean. She's a nice girl. I know you'll hit it off."

  I admired her confidence, but the jury was out on that one. I didn't know who this person was that she was introducing me to, and besides, all I had agreed to have was a date. Just one. I had just gotten back and just gotten a house. I was still getting my feet back under me; I wasn't trying to date, get a girlfriend and shit. I needed to set myself up before I could start dating again.

  That said though, dinner with a pretty girl... I wasn't going to say no to that. Yeah, deployment wasn't a sausage party, but the guys outnumbered the girls and since we weren't there to eat dinner, chat, and have a good time, spending time with a girl on a date would be nice. Maybe I had been out of the game too long.

  Chapter Eight

  Veronica

  Summer used to be my favorite time of the year. Most people felt the same way, but I loved the free time. I always worked over summer, but I liked that I wasn't thinking about school all the time. My mind could wander, and I could think about the future, daydream, and fantasize. The looser days were a relief after the busy semesters; I always looked forward to the vacation.

  That was until last summer, of course. Summer last year came right on the heels of Roman dumping me and the good weather hadn't been enough to drag me out of the post-break up oblivion I disappeared into for a month and a half. The more I thought about it, the worse it seemed to dump someone right before summer, go off and have a great time, while they cried alone in bed for weeks.

  I had gone back home that summer, not that it ended up making that much of a difference to what I did all day
. I would just fall apart and spontaneously burst into tears – it was pathetic. Roman not talking to me at all made it better and worse at the same time. It had been way too sudden. We weren't just a couple, we were friends, and the fact that he wasn't there anymore just to talk to or share time with had been agonizing.

  This summer was going to be different. As hard as I felt that I wouldn't even make it out alive, I was fine. That was all in the past. Ancient history. I didn't have to think about that because it wasn't going to happen again. I was single, well, single-ish, my GPA was still perfect, and I only had one more year of college left before I graduated with my degree.

  I couldn't wait. Literally, I couldn't wait to stop being a student. I liked it and I was good at it, but the structured days and semesters of student life were getting to me. It was starting to feel restrictive, and all I wanted was a chance to finally get out there. I had worked throughout college, partly paying for my tuition and partly putting money away to travel. I had a whole laundry list of places I wanted to see before I decided to settle down and start a family.

  It was a little after nine when I got out of bed. I thought about French toast for breakfast, but that sounded like a lot of work. I wanted something fast, so oatmeal it was. I cut up an apple and put it in a pot with some sugar and water so it could soften up enough for me to add the oats. Since moving into my own place, I stopped having a microwave in the house, sort of like an incentive to eat like a real adult and actually cook instead of nuking Hot Pockets. It had worked so far. There was no such thing as being too busy to feed yourself properly. Since it was summer, I'd have a lot more time now anyway, unless I took summer classes.

  Were any of the courses I needed for my major available this summer? I wondered. I wasn't sure, but now I wanted to check. I could end up taking some of the strain off my senior year. I would be sacrificing time that was meant to be taken off, but I could potentially finish my required courses earlier. Depending on how it worked out, I could end up saving myself a whole semester. My social life was not important enough to me to prioritize over school. It didn't sound like the worst idea.

  I ate my breakfast clicking through the student portal of my college's website. The doorbell rang as I was stacking my washed dishes. Besides my building supervisor or Tiffany, I wasn't sure who else I could expect at this time of the day. I answered it.

  "Sean," I said, all the expectation I had evaporating the moment I met his blank, brown eyes.

  "Hey, babe," he said, walking in. He held the back of my neck and kissed me.

  "What are you doing here?" I asked. He was dressed like he had somewhere to go, which was always a surprise. His button up shirt actually looked like someone had ironed it for him and his face was freshly shaven.

  "What? Did you have plans or something?" he asked, walking straight into the kitchen.

  "I'd just prefer it if you called me before coming over," I said, following him. The countertop next to my fridge was covered in Tupperware, my leftovers. He was prying each one open and inspecting what was inside like this was his house.

  "It's not like you were busy, what's the big deal?" he asked, searching my drawers for a fork. He started eating my pasta leftovers from the night before right out of the container with all the other ones still sitting on the counter and the fridge wide open.

  "Could you at least use a plate?" I sniped. He stuffed his mouth with cold pasta, looking inside the fridge again.

  "Why don’t you ever have any beer?" he asked with his mouth full.

  "It's ten in the morning," I said incredulously. He pulled out a can of La Croix and popped it open, taking a long swig before he made a face and just stuck it back in the fridge. I couldn't watch him anymore, I walked over to the fridge, nudging him so he'd move and started cleaning up his mess. He didn't say anything, just burped loudly in response.

  "Hey, I wanted some of that chicken," he protested as I refilled my fridge with everything he had pulled out.

  "Why are you here, Sean?" I asked, closing it and standing with my back against it so he'd have to pay attention to me.

  "I wanted to see how you were," he said shrugging.

  "You haven't even asked me anything yet," I pointed out.

  "I can tell just by looking at you," he said. His brow furrowed slightly. "You look a little sick, are you okay?" he asked. No you idiot, I just got up, sorry I didn't have any time to put on my face before you showed up unannounced. I rolled my eyes and walked out of the kitchen.

  "I'm heading to campus later, I need to get ready to leave," I said.

  "School? Why?" he asked, following me back into the living space. He still had the pasta and one of the three bananas I had been saving to make banana bread with.

  "If you must know, I've been thinking about taking summer classes before my last year," I said. He laughed loudly.

  "Why the fuck would you do that? School finally cuts out and the first thing you do is go back?" he asked.

  "The sooner I finish my classes, the more time I have later to work before graduation.”

  "That's stupid," he said definitively. "Just go to class when class starts. It's called summer vacation because you're supposed to be on vacation."

  I was only telling him this because he happened to be the only other person in the room. Sean was the last person I needed to be talking about academics with. He lived in a new development in an apartment he shouldn't have been able to afford since he didn't have a job. His family was pretty wealthy and paid for both that apartment he lived in and that education he was hardly getting. They had paid for the massive television and gaming consoles that took up all his time, too.

  "I don't know. I think I want to get all my studying done off top then have time and money for the rest of the stuff," I said.

  "What's the deal with you and school? You're not ugly, it isn't like you have to be smart to get by," he said.

  I closed my eyes, calming down before I said something to him that I might have regretted. It was my mistake for keeping him around, I knew that, but he wasn't always like this. What was that Tiffany had said to me about him? That I was projecting and no, he wasn't actually the kind of guy I thought he could be?

  "You know what? I'm busy today, Sean. You have to leave."

  "You're going to school, then coming right back. That doesn't sound busy to me," he said.

  "Just go."

  "Are you waiting on someone?" he asked, suddenly interested. "A date?"

  "Since you asked, yeah, I actually might be going out with someone tomorrow night," I said, crossing my arms.

  "Might? Like you aren't sure? Just go," he said lightly.

  "What?"

  "Yeah. Were you waiting to ask me permission or something? It's not like you're the only girl I've been talking to. We're not exclusive, you can date whoever you want," he said. I knew that. I already knew that, so why was it making me so mad to hear him say it?

  "Do you go to all their houses when you run out of food at your place?" I asked. The pasta was gone and he had left the banana peel in a heap on the edge of one of my end tables.

  "Naw. Just you. You're the best cook, baby," he said coming up to me and putting a hand around my waist.

  "Get out. Just leave, okay? I want you to go."

  "Okay, okay," he said, putting his hands up. "I'll go."

  "Thank you," I said, relieved.

  "Have fun on your date. Call me afterward," he said. I said I would so I could hurry him out the door. I took the empty Tupperware to the sink and threw out the banana peel. What a hound. His place was messy, but it wasn't a sty. He had to have a maid service or something keeping it together for him.

  He still hadn't made up for the day at the coffee shop that he had stood me up. I had gone to his place during the week, but he had just given me a bullshit throwaway excuse when I had called him on it. He had said all this stuff about how I was being too intense and needed to dial it back, and then we had had sex and just hadn't brought it up again.


  It was so dumb that I was feeling like this when he was so unbothered. It was getting harder and harder to see those redeeming qualities that I spent so much time trying to show Tiffany that he had. He had encouraged me to go out with another guy – he didn't give a fuck.

  I went to my room to grab my phone. I'd take his advice and go out with another guy since dating me was too much of a responsibility for him. If nothing else, I'd get a good night out with decent company and a meal. What did I have to lose? I held the phone to my ear waiting for Tiffany to pick up. I knew she would already be at work, but I wasn't going to take long.

  "Hello?"

  "Tiff?"

  "Hey, what's up? I can't really talk right now, could you text me?" she asked.

  "I'll be quick. I wanted to talk to you about that date," I said.

  "Yeah?" she said expectantly.

  "Tell your mystery man I'll be there."

  Chapter Nine

  Roman

  "Don't wear that."

  "What's wrong with it?"

  "A polo is too casual. It's a sit-down dinner date, you can't show up to a restaurant at night in one of those," Tiffany said. I hung the shirt back up in the closet.

  "Better?" I asked, holding up a button down white shirt.

  "Not white. Something colored." I rolled my eyes, putting the shirt back up with the rest and pulling out a light blue one.

  "Should I wear a tie, too?" I asked sarcastically.

  "It's a date, not a job interview," she snapped from my bed.

  "I'm a big boy, Tiffany. I'm pretty sure I know how to get dressed myself."

  "First impressions are everything, Roman. She might forgive your shitty personality if you look good," she said. I put the shirt on, buttoned it up. She had chosen the tan slacks I was wearing, too.

  "I already don't like her. She sounds shallow."

  "I'm trying to help you, Roman."

  "Then tell me what I'm walking into tonight. If I'm spending money on this girl, I at least want to know who she is."

  "She's cute... Blonde hair, same age as you, average height..."