Heavy Hogs MC

by Elias Taylor

  She still was off-limits. Last night, that had just turned him on. She was the forbidden fruit. In the clear light of day, Tripp could see how reckless his words had been.

  She had just looked so beautiful, standing there in the middle of the kitchen. Her face, bare of makeup, had seemed to glow. Her eyes had been so wide and concerned, like two massive green moons. The whole time she made that sandwich, Tripp wrestled with the drunken urge to lean forward and kiss each and every one of her freckles.

  Her hair had hung loose down her back. It had been so tousled. Tripp had wanted to push his fingers into those flaming locks and mess it up even more.

  Tripp struggled with the extendable legs of the table, and tried his hardest not to think about Mel. But Jesus, it was difficult. It was those damn pajama shorts she had on the night before. The soft cotton ended at her upper thigh, leaving the curves of her legs totally exposed. And the loose shirt had dipped low but not nearly as low as Tripp had wanted.

  The outfit hadn’t really been scandalous at all, and that was why it was so sexy. She had been dressed for comfort in her bed. It had been intimate.

  Everything about the interaction had been intimate. The way she threw together a sandwich, her skilled fingers moving fast, just as they probably did when she was sketching one of her designs. The way they had locked eyes for long moments. The way she had pulled him to his feet.

  Tripp looked up towards the back porch to see Mel looking right at him. Their eyes locked across the lawn. It was as if his intense thoughts about her had summoned her attention to him.

  Quick as a flash, Mel looked away. She fiddled with some flowers, and then dashed back into the house.

  Tripp groaned to himself. He was an idiot. He had made Mel desperately uncomfortable, all because he couldn’t keep his stupid drunk mouth shut.

  It wasn’t just that he had admitted she was good-looking, that wouldn’t have been so bad. It might even have been a friend-like thing to say. Tripp had grown up with Mel, after all, why shouldn’t he acknowledge how attractive she was?

  No, it was how he said it. He had left no room for interpretation. He had been so clear that he wanted her in his bed. And he wanted to do totally licentious things there.

  Just thinking about the part where he mentioned how she was legal made Tripp want to kick himself.

  She probably thought he had been lusting after her when she was just a kid, which was definitely not the case. Tripp wasn’t the type of guy to go for a younger girl just because she was vulnerable and innocent.

  It was just so obvious that Mel wasn’t a girl anymore, she was a woman. Last night in the kitchen, it hadn’t felt like they were separated by some huge chasm. They were on the same level.

  Tripp supposed he should be grateful that he hadn’t grabbed her and kissed her. He had wanted to. For a moment, he had thought she might have wanted it as well. But no, it had been a trick of the light.

  Besides, he mused to himself, if he ever did kiss Mel Reynolds, he was not going to be drunk. He would want to be clear-headed for that.

  Tripp ambled across the lawn and kept an eye out for his mother. He was reaching his limit with the party set-up, and as long as his mother was occupied, he was going to sneak off for a shower.

  Tripp slipped into the house and listened. He told himself he was listening for his mother stressing out, but really he was listening for Mel.

  He could hear his mother out front, directing the caterers, and he could Christina babbling in the kitchen. Nothing from Mel. He could picture her anyway, sitting next to his sister and nodding along. Mel had always been quieter. At least, she didn’t speak as much, but she did think a lot. You could tell just by watching her, ideas were constantly popping into her head.

  Tripp found himself wanting to know just a fraction of what she thought. He wanted her to share her secret opinions with him. He would do anything just to get access to what was in Mel’s head.

  He was being ridiculous. This hangover was doing a number on him.

  Tripp paused at the bottom of the staircase when he heard Mel’s voice drifting in from the kitchen. He hated himself for it, but he leaned towards the conversation. He had an insane hope that maybe she would be saying something about him.

  “I could arrange the streamers,” she said. “I saw a neat trick on Pinterest.”

  “You are so addicted to Pinterest,” Christina said. “Seriously, do I need to stage an intervention?”

  “Pinterest is awesome, you’re just hating because you can never follow the hair tutorials,” Mel said.

  “They’re totally rigged,” Christina mumbled. “But go at it with the streamers, I’m sure you’ll make them look fabulous, if only Tripp would hurry up and finish setting up the tables.”

  Tripp rolled his eyes. Christina was the queen of procrastination and chatting instead of working, but she loved to hurl stones from her glass house.

  He froze as he heard his name come out of Mel’s mouth.

  “Tripp’s almost done, I think,” Mel said.

  The silence was oppressive. It felt like it lasted forever while Tripp waited to hear if Mel was going to say anything else. Would she tell her friend about their strange interaction? Or even part of it? Christina would snitch on him for sure if she found out he had been wasted the night before his parents’ anniversary party. Never mind that they were full-grown adults, old habits die hard, especially with siblings.

  But Mel said nothing. For whatever reason, she was keeping his inappropriate behavior a secret.

  His optimistic side wanted to think that some sort of alliance had been formed between them. Mel had his back.

  Tripp’s realistic side only felt guilty. She was probably embarrassed. His words had made her feel awkward and so uncomfortable that she couldn’t even confide in Christina.

  He had put her in a terrible position. Christina continued to babble about the food and the guest list, and Tripp hunched his shoulders and headed up the stairs.

  He ducked into the bathroom and turned the shower on. He waited for the water to get searing hot. He was going to spend several long minutes in the steamy room. He needed it to recover his dulled senses.

  People were going to start arriving any minute, but Tripp didn’t care. He could be late to his own parents’ party. He wasn’t worried about that.

  He was only worried about Mel. He had been way out of line, and he knew he had to apologize.

  Tripp closed his eyes. It was going to be so hard not to stare at her gorgeous lips, but he needed to get a grip.

  He needed to find some self-control.

  Chapter Seven: Forgotten

  Mel looked out at the crowded backyard and sighed. The party was definitely a success, and she noted with glee that everyone liked her streamer design, but she just wished she knew more people there. Most of the guests were distant Charles relatives, or older family friends.

  Christina had to pay her dues as the daughter of the couple everyone was celebrating. She had been making the rounds for over an hour, and Mel was left on the sidelines.

  It wasn’t exactly an exciting party, but Mel was still glad she had come. The Reynolds meant a lot to her, and they had wanted her there. Mel had been happy to promise her presence, no matter how busy she was. The Reynolds’ home had always been a welcome haven during the times when Mel’s own household felt too oppressive. Her parents had too many rules, too many strict beliefs. Mel had been able to relax with the Reynolds, and they had adored her for who she was.

  She sat down in an empty chair off to the side and regarded the hordes of people. She wondered if she would still be comfortable around the whole family, after last night.

  Yes, he had been drunk and definitely hadn’t known what he was saying. But he had still said it. Mel couldn’t say for certain how much truth was behind Tripp’s comments, and she had no idea what she would do or think if she knew. Probably nothing. Mel was not a risk-taker. She did not act on impulse.

  Mel was careful. Mel we
ighed the pros and cons of every situation. She referred to practical sense in all things.

  Christina claimed that those habits were exactly why Mel was still a virgin. She never let herself go. She was prim and proper and she overthought everything.

  Well, Mel could argue that she was waiting for someone who made her forget her lists and pragmatic ways. Not that she had found anything close, but that didn’t mean he didn’t exist.

  Truth be told, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted him to exist. A guy who could make her forget her practical sense and just let go might compel her to give up all her carefully-laid plans to study fashion design and start her own line. Could any one man really be worth that kind of sacrifice?

  Mel thought not. She would just have to wait until later in life to let herself stop overthinking.

  Mel frowned as she realized she might end up waiting forever. It wasn’t a cheerful thought.

  Without meaning to, Mel cast her eyes towards the back door. She had been studying it for the past hour, waiting to see when Tripp would come out. Still no sign of him.

  Mel jiggled her foot and scanned the crowd again. She caught sight of Christina, deep in conversation with an elderly aunt.

  She had tossed and turned half the night, and even after a few hours of sleep, she had woken up still thinking about Tripp. She kept trying to analyze why he said what he said. Why just then? And what had spurned the confession? Was it just because she had made him a mediocre sandwich while he was drunk?

  And had he really meant it?

  It was so stupid. Nothing was ever going to happen. Nothing ever could happen, it would be incredibly awkward. And Christina...Christina would keel over and die. Or murder Tripp. Either way, someone was going to be dead.

  Mel had been avoiding Tripp all day. She figured it was best to play it cool. It hadn’t been hard. He had looked about as friendly as a bear as he stalked around the lawn setting up chairs. She did not envy the hangover he was nursing.

  She had entertained the possibility that he had forgotten, but then dismissed it. He had been looking at her while she was on the porch, and she sensed the tension. The exchange lay heavy between them, as if the words he had uttered left a palpable texture in the air. It wasn’t just in her head. Tripp was still thinking about last night as well.

  Mel wasn’t sure that was a good thing. He probably regretted what he said. He was probably wondering what had possessed him to speak that way to Mel of all people. Or worse, he was thinking about how he had meant to start flirting with some older and more worldly woman of the world, not unsophisticated Mel.

  Her mind whirled in circles, and kept coming back to the same questions: Was it true? Did Tripp want her like that? And why did she keep hoping it was true?

  “Hey.”

  Mel jumped out of her skin. She almost yelped in shock at Tripp’s tall form towering over her, but she managed to swallow that impulse. How was he so quiet?

  So much for playing it cool.

  “Oh, hi,” Mel said. “You startled me.”

  “Sorry,” Tripp said.

  He shifted from one foot to another. Mel felt her face turning red. This was even more stilted than she had imagined. It almost hurt to be so awkward with him after feeling so comfortable last night.

  “Can I sit?” Tripp asked.

  “Of course,” Mel said.

  She pasted a smile on her face. She was going to have to face him forever. Her plan to avoid him until she went off to school in the fall and then for every holiday ever until the end of eternity was only semi-feasible.

  Tripp settled into the chair and stretched his long legs out in front of him. Mel stared straight ahead. She couldn’t bear to look him in the face.

  “I owe you an apology,” Tripp said.

  The words were stilted but genuine, Mel could tell.

  “I was way out of line last night,” Tripp said. “And you were being so nice, and I was just being a wasted idiot.”

  Mel let out a nervous laugh and turned to face him. She was glad he was being so upfront. It would have been agony to dance around the subject without ever actually mentioning what had happened.

  “It’s no big deal,” Mel said. “Seriously, it’s forgotten.”

  That was definitely a lie. Mel had thought of little else for the past 12 hours. But she wanted to let him off the hook. She didn’t want him to think he was a bad person when he wasn’t. He was funny, kind and talented and smart. And handsome. So handsome.

  Even more handsome now that he was sober and almost recovered from his hangover. His eyes sparkled with energy as he grinned at Mel.

  “Well, I’m not gonna drink that much for a long time,” Tripp said. “Especially since I know you won’t be making me a sandwich again in the middle of the night.”

  Mel laughed and shrugged.

  “Cooking’s not really my thing,” she said.

  “Nah, you’re too busy taking over the fashion world,” Tripp said.

  Mel couldn’t tell if he was teasing her or not. He had witnessed all her over-eager attempts in middle and high school to revolutionize her wardrobe. He probably didn’t take her design dreams seriously at all.

  “I hear you got into a school in LA, that’s so awesome,” Tripp said. “You’ll blow them all away.”

  Or perhaps he did think she was serious. Mel perked up at the mention of LA.

  “Yeah, I’m excited, but nervous,” Mel said.

  “Don’t be nervous,” Tripp said. “You’re the girl who once wore a necklace around your forehead, you’ll kill at fashion school.”

  “Oh God, don’t remind me,” Mel cried.

  Mel could recall with too much ease the day she had decided to wrap a silver necklace around her head like a crown and pair it with a long flowing peasant dress. But how did he remember her bohemian phase?

  “It was original, I’ll give you that,” Tripp said.

  He was giving her the brightest smile Mel had ever seen, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

  “Well, I guess I’ve come a long way,” Mel said. “But it’s still a weird feeling, like I’m about to step off of solid ground and into thin air.”

  “I get that,” Tripp said.

  “Is it the same with your bike designs?” Mel asked.

  “A bit,” Tripp said.

  He paused and contemplated for a while. Mel liked that about him. He always made sure to think about the questions that were asked him; he didn’t just spit out generic answers.

  “I guess it’s knowing that I have to take a chance and just get my designs out there,” Tripp said. “But also being terrified of taking that chance.”

  “Exactly,” Mel said. “And also terrified of not taking the risk, because I know I want to go for it.”

  Tripp nodded with enthusiasm.

  “You are going for it,” Tripp said. “You should be proud.”

  Mel smiled at the ground and then glanced back up at him. He was staring at her with a fixed gaze. It was almost like the way he had looked last night, only more alert and focused.

  Mel needed to change the subject. She couldn’t think about last night anymore.

  “I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while, how are you?” Mel asked. “You’re still helping your dad, right?”

  “Yeah,” Tripp said. “It’s a good job, but I get almost no time to work on my designs or even just to ride.”

  “You won’t be a roofer forever,” Mel said. “I know it.”

  To Mel’s surprise, Tripp’s face turned bashful. He was flattered by her faith in him, and it was so endearing.

  “Thanks for saying that,” Tripp said.

  “No problem,” Mel said.

  They sat in companionable silence for a bit, both looking out at the party. No one was paying them much mind. Tripp wasn’t exactly the Charles sibling that was known for his charming party persona. No one seemed to even expect him to make the rounds like Christina.

  Mel didn’t mind. She liked having the company,
and with each moment they spent in discussion, the awkwardness of the night before began to fade.

  She crossed one leg over the other and squirmed in her chair. For a split second, she thought that Tripp was staring at her leg, but then he met her eyes again.

  She clearly was oversensitive to his every move after his unpredictable behavior.

  “You look good today,” Tripp said.

  Mel almost fell out of her chair. Just when it seemed like they were moving back into safe and friendly territory, he had to go and say something like that.

  “The outfit, it’s very – put together,” Tripp said. “I can see why you got into design school.”

  Mel had never seemed Tripp stumble over words, but he was definitely stammering. He probably didn’t want her thinking he was repeating his overtures from the night before. Mel decided to let him have the out.

  “I embroidered this myself,” she said.

  Her sky-blue relaxed fit sundress had been pretty simple until Mel spent hours putting swirling designs around the hem and collar with white thread. She thought the effect was the perfect blend of classic and original.

  To complete the look, she had gone with her white converse sneakers. Mel almost always veered on the side of casual. She adored street fashion just as much as she appreciated the glamorous ball gowns.

  “Hey,” Tripp said. “You wanna get out of here?”

  Mel blinked in surprise. She had assumed he would want to rejoin the party after spending a respectable amount of time apologizing and being nice. Then again, the party was definitely not Tripp’s scene. It wasn’t Mel’s either.

  “I have to admit, I’m a little bored,” Mel said.

  She flashed him a smile, and Tripp perked up. He hadn’t been sure she would want to accept his invitation, but now that she was considering it, he was eager. Mel was tempted to spend an hour breaking down everything his eagerness could possibly mean, but there wasn’t time. Tripp was expecting an answer. He stared at her with his head cocked to one side.