Biker's Virgin (An MC Romance)

by Claire Adams

  “Emerson? What are you doing up here?”

  I spun around to find Brooke seated on a fold-up chair. I couldn't help but smile. I hoped that I wouldn't make a fool out of myself, seeing as I was drunk. “I'm, well, I just like looking at the stars,” I said, feeling self-conscious about my speech having a slight slur. “I just got home, and it was, it was too pretty a night to just stay cooped up inside.”

  “You guys were partying again tonight, huh?”

  “Um, yeah,” I remarked, feeling a bit guilty. “Sorry, was the noise buggin’ you guys?”

  “It was okay. When we turned the TV up, it wasn't too bad.”

  “Oh, look, I'm really, really sorry, Brooke. I told Chris to keep it down, and, and, I turned it down myself soooo many times, but he, he'd always, like, turn it right back up, and—”

  She locked an almost accusatory stare into my eyes. “Are you drunk?”

  “I, uh, yeah. Yeah, I'm a bit drunk.”

  Surprisingly, she chuckled, and there didn't seem to be anything judgmental in the way she laughed. “I can tell,” she snickered. “Where did you guys go?”

  “Same place we always go,” I replied sheepishly. “Club 74.”

  “How do you guys get in? I mean, you're under twenty-one.”

  “Chris' cousin is a bouncer there. He lets us in.”

  “And what if the cops were to show up? You guys would be in a world of trouble. Chris's cousin probably would be, too, for letting you in.”

  “There's a s-secret back entrance the cops don't know about. He could sneak us outta there if it came to it. Look, I don't really… You know, I don't actually like going out and drinking much anymore,” I slurred, painfully aware of how stupid I likely sounded. “It's just, Chris… he's a, he's a bad influence, ya know? It's so hard to say no to him.”

  “Oh, so it's all Chris's fault, huh?” she chided playfully.

  I burst into a drunken chuckling fit. “Okay, okay, so it's kinda my own f-fault, too.” I turned my attention back to the sky. “Hey, check it out, there's Orion. See, that's his belt, those three stars, and those other ones, well, that's his b-bow and arrow.”

  “Which ones?” she asked, looking up toward where I was pointing.

  “Those three, right there—they're his belt.”

  “I still can't see.”

  I walked over and squatted down next to her. She smelled amazing. I couldn't deny I was feeling pretty damn aroused being so close to her. I hoped she didn't notice. Or, maybe I hoped she would notice. I pointed up. Being right next to her meant she could follow my line far easier.

  “Oh!” she said with a smile. “Now I see it.”

  “Yeah! Right? Once you've spotted it properly, it t-totally makes sense.”

  “Orion's the hunter, isn't he?”

  “Yesss.”

  “What's he hunting? I mean, what's his bow aimed at?”

  I shrugged. “Must be something up there he wants to shoot!”

  Her laughter rang across the rooftop. “And, I thought you were about to give me a talk on astronomy. Come on, Emerson, you're letting me down here!”

  “Hey! I didn't say I was an expert. I just know where a f-few constellations are.”

  “Show me another one then.”

  I moved a little closer to her and pointed again. “Well, there's the Big Dipper. See it?”

  She followed my finger and smiled with delight as she caught sight of where I was aiming. “Yes! Right there. Awesome! What others do you know?” she asked eagerly.

  “That one right there is Draco, the Dragon.”

  “Ohhhhh, do you think Daenerys is up there riding him?”

  “Back to our Game of Thrones references, are we?” I joked.

  She smiled and turned her head toward me to say something at the exact same time I turned toward her to say something. For a few electrically-charged moments our lips were merely inches apart and our eyes met in an intense gaze. Every fiber of my being was screaming out for me to lean in just a little closer, and press my mouth against hers. But before I could, she stood abruptly, breaking the moment.

  “I-I need to get back inside,” she stuttered, her tone flustered. “Thank you very much for the astronomy lesson. It was nice. Enjoy the stars. Have a good night, Emerson.”

  With that, she folded her deck chair and turned to walk off. I watched her go, and, despite the missed opportunity, I smiled and looked back up at the starry sky. Friday had been a good day.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Brooke

  Friday had been a really strange day. Who would have thought it would close looking at the stars with Emerson on the roof? It had been one rollercoaster ride for sure—riding on a motorcycle for the first time, running into Ben at dinner, having Emerson there to serve up some delicious revenge to Andrew, and then chatting with Emerson on the roof under a beautiful, starry sky in a moment that could have ended with…

  A kiss.

  Heat gushed through my body at the mere thought of how close I had come to Emerson's lips pressed to mine. They’d been inches away, and the look that passed between us had been indescribably intense.

  But I couldn't… I just couldn't do it.

  I mean, he was drunk for one thing. But even if he'd been sober, I don't think I could have done it.

  Or… maybe I could have.

  I climbed into bed with thoughts of Emerson’s warm mouth spilling over mine.

  ***

  With a cup of hot coffee steaming on the desk next to me, I logged into my email to check if there was anything from my parents about the upcoming family barbecue in honor of my dad's fiftieth birthday.

  There wasn't, but there was an email from the college’s activities director. It was about the RAG Society—an acronym for Remember And Give. They were a group involved in a number of fundraisers on campus that raised money for local charities. They were looking for new members to sign up. I'd wanted to join last semester, but my class schedule conflicted with their weekly meetings. However, it looked like I'd be able to make the meetings with my new schedule. I'd been involved with various charity work throughout my life, and last semester it was something I sorely missed. I was looking forward to the opportunity to get back into it.

  I immediately sent off the email signing up.

  I was surprised to get a reply just a few minutes later saying there'd be a get-together that afternoon for new members to get to know the leaders and current members. I responded that I'd be there and then I got out my chemistry notes to start a day of studying.

  ***

  I left my first RAG meeting feeling fantastic. The society was operated by very efficient and motivated people, and I got a sense they really were in it to help those who were less fortunate rather than merely being involved for the sake of having something attractive to put on their CV. What was even better, we'd already been given our first project to raise money for a local children's charity. We’d sell potted plants donated by a local garden center so whatever we sold for would be all profit. Several of us had each been given a basket with ten small potted plants to sell. If we could get a couple of dollars for each plant, we'd easily be able to raise a few hundred, or even a thousand dollars for the children's charity.

  The first thing I did, of course, was buy one for myself—a beautiful little daisy. I popped ten dollars into the donation box and put the daisy on the balcony with the rest of our plants as soon as I got home. I'd kind of counted on Leslie buying one, as well, but she wasn’t home. I figured I wouldn't actually have to venture very far from my apartment building to sell the plants.

  Since Leslie wasn't around, I thought I might see if Emerson was up for buying a plant. I hadn't noticed any green in his apartment the one time I'd been there, so I figured it would be a nice addition to the place.

  I headed out and knocked on the door--which was promptly opened by Chris, who leered at me before staring at my chest in my kind of low-cut top.

  I instantly regretted that choice and sp
oke quickly to bring his attention back up to my face. “Hi, Chris, how's it going?”

  “Hey. I'm alright. Pretty hungover, but surviving, yo. What's going on?”

  I had forgotten that he lived here, as well. I had really hoped that it would have been Emerson who opened the door.

  “Well, I'm volunteering for RAG at college. Have you heard of them?”

  “Not interested,” said Chris flatly.

  Well, that was pretty downright rude.

  “Hang on a second, I haven't even—”

  “I've got no spare cash right now, okay? Sorry.” His tone said it all. There was no way he was gonna buy one of the plants.

  I sighed and turned away. “Alright, no worries,” I said in a resigned tone. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”

  “Later,” he said, before closing the door in my face.

  What a jerk. I couldn't believe Emerson was friends with that guy. As I turned around to walk down the hall though, I saw a familiar silhouette rounding the corner, coming out of the stairwell.

  “Emerson!”

  “Hey, Brooke, how's it going? Were you just coming out of my place?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I was trying to see if you guys were interested in buying a plant or two for charity, but your roommate wasn't, uh, wasn't very receptive.”

  “Oh, sorry about that. I guess he's feeling pretty hungover from last night.”

  “And you? You were looking a few sheets to the wind when I saw you on the roof last night.”

  He chuckled self-effacingly. “Yeah, I was a bit, but trust me, I wasn't blasted. I actually feel alright. I stayed out on the roof for a while after you went in and then drank a ton of water and ate something before bed. I got a decent amount of sleep, so I felt okay when I woke up.”

  “That's good to know. Anyways, I gotta get going and sell some of these plants.”

  “Well, hold up a sec, I'll take a couple of 'em. How much are they?”

  “Awesome, thanks! Pretty much however much you wanna donate.”

  “So, will you take like, ten cents for one of those bad boys?” he said with a wink.

  I fired a fierce mock-glare at him. “I'd rather eat it than sell it to you for ten cents, Emerson.”

  “I'm kidding, I'm kidding,” he said with a chuckle. “What charity is it for, anyway?”

  “It's for the Johnson Children's Home. It's a charity downtown.”

  “You know, I've actually heard of that. They do a lot of good things for inner city kids. They get 'em motivated and inspired and give them opportunities to better themselves and learn new skills. Yeah, I'm totally down to support an initiative like that. And, good on you for volunteering to do something like this. You never cease to amaze me.”

  My cheeks heated as I tried to avoid making direct eye contact. I didn’t want anything else heating up, too. “Aw, thanks, Emerson! I've always had a soft spot for helping others. I've been doing charity work since I was a kid. Started out tagging along with my mom when she went. It's something I think everyone should do at least once in a while.”

  “Ya know, you’re right. Not that I've done much myself, but yeah, more people should get involved. It really would make the world a better place.”

  “It certainly would.”

  “Alright, I've got twenty bucks on me. Is that enough for two of those plants?”

  “Yeah, that's perfect. Thanks! Which ones do you want?”

  He peered down into the basket. “Um, I don't know much about plants. Which ones will be least likely to die in my place?” he said with a laugh.

  I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Jeez, you guys! Alright, well, take the cactus, it should be pretty damn tough. And this one, it's a succulent that doesn't need much water. It'll also be able to survive the um, harsh conditions of your apartment.”

  “Awesome,” he said as he took the plants out of my basket. “I'll do my best not to kill them.”

  “Yeah, let me know how that goes. Well, I gotta head out now. Otherwise, I’m buying a bunch of plants for myself. Thank you for the donation!”

  “No problem. Good luck getting rid of the rest of them. I hope you get some decent offers on 'em.”

  “Thanks, Emerson. Enjoy the rest of the afternoon.”

  He smiled, took the plants, and headed into his apartment. I watched him go with a smile on my face. There was definitely more to Emerson than met the eye, I knew that much.

  ***

  I arrived back home around seven o'clock with one plant left—one I'd kept especially for Leslie. It hadn't taken much effort on my part to sell the plants; I'd just walked around the neighborhood and knocked on the doors of people who had a lot of flowers and plants adorning their patios or porches. Most were receptive and donated pretty generously. I raised over a hundred dollars, which wasn't bad for two hours of charity work.

  I walked in and saw Leslie in the kitchen, whipping up dinner.

  “Hey, girl!” she called out as I walked in.

  “Hey, Les, how was your Saturday?”

  “It's been good! I had rehearsals with my amateur troupe most of the day. Remember, I told you we're doing Hamlet in a couple of weeks?”

  “Oh, yeah, how's that going?”

  “Great! The guy who's playing Hamlet is so talented. I'm learning a lot from him. I feel like I'm gonna improve by leaps and bounds this semester. How has your day been?”

  “It's been nice. I joined RAG and went to my first meeting today.”

  She giggled a little. “Their name still cracks me up. I remember you wanted to join up last semester, but your schedule was too crazy. So, how was it?”

  “The people there are great. They're really dedicated and they take it seriously. And, I felt like they were all genuinely compassionate people who really care about making a difference.”

  “That's just the sort of people who need to be running something like that.”

  “Yeah. And, they gave us our first task to complete.”

  “Oh yeah, what was that?”

  I held up the basket and took out the last remaining plant, holding it up with a triumphant smile for Leslie. “Ta-daa! A local garden center donated a ton of these for us to use to raise money for the Johnson Children's Home downtown. I saved this one for you.”

  “Aw, it's lovely! How much?”

  “However much you'd like to donate, really. No pressure, I've made over a hundred bucks already, which will make for a great donation when combined with everyone else's.”

  “Cool, so how does five dollars sound for that little one?”

  “Sounds good to me. Just drop it in the box and we can get it out onto the balcony.”

  “Here you go,” she said as she paused with making dinner and dug in her purse for some change.

  I took the money and popped it into the donation box and then took the plant out to join the others. I stayed out there for a few moments, rearranging the plants.

  As I walked back inside, I saw Leslie standing in the middle of the living room, her hands on her hips, with an expression of pure fury across her face. At the same time, I heard it—the powerful thumping of bass rattling everything in our apartment.

  Chris.

  “This time, I'm calling the cops,” Leslie hissed. “I've had it; I've totally had it with those two assholes! This just keeps on happening! Jesus, I can hardly even hear myself over that racket!”

  “Hold up, hold up. Don't call the cops, Les, just wait a sec. I'll go over and get them to turn it down, alright?”

  “No, Brooke, no. They need to be taught a lesson. You going over there and asking them nicely just means they'll keep doing this again and again because they know the consequences are gonna be nothing. Nope. They must know that when they act like complete, inconsiderate, selfish jerks who wreck everyone else's peace and quiet, that there are gonna be consequences!”

  “Please, Les, come on. It's just gonna cause so much friction, and we don't need that with the neighbors. Look, I'll go over there with my best angry face
on. I'll give them hell this time. No more Miss Nice Brooke; I'll be mean! They won't do it again.”

  “Brooke, girl, I love you, but you couldn't scare those two if your life depended on it. I'm sorry, but this is the last straw. We have a right to peace and quiet here, and that's an impossibility with those two jerks next door pulling this kind of shit all the time. I'm making the call.” She strode into the kitchen where she’d left her phone. My heart started pounding madly in my chest. I could feel my breath quickening. I had to stop this somehow, I had to, but I had no idea what to do; I felt totally paralyzed.

  But then, as Leslie was about to dial the cops, the music stopped. She stood, staring at the wall with fury in her eyes and her fingers on the phone, just waiting for the music to start again. I waited with bated breath, but the silence remained.

  I let out a sigh of relief, and Leslie shook her head, muttered under her breath, and put the phone back in her pocket.

  Emerson and Chris were safe.

  For now.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Emerson

  I sat staring at the cactus I'd bought from Brooke. I was supposed to be studying, but my mind kept wandering. Maybe having the plant sitting on my desk wasn’t the best idea since I thought about her every time I looked at it. Chris had already given me a load of shit for buying it, but I didn't care.

  I couldn’t help but be impressed with Brooke. She really seemed to have her life together. Not many adults I knew seemed to be as together and focused as her. Nor did they think of someone other than themselves. I hadn't taken her for the type who'd get into charity work, but it was something she was passionate about. That was obvious by the way her eyes lit up when she talked about helping the less fortunate.

  I could honestly say I'd never met a girl quite like her in my life. No, Brooke was totally different—refreshingly different from any of the girls I had dated before, and especially different from girls like Melissa and her friends, who I doubted had ever done a single thing for anyone besides themselves.

  The front door opening yanked me from my thoughts. I heard Chris come into the apartment. A minute later, he and Ciara, one of Melissa’s friends, were standing in the doorway of my bedroom.