by Deja Voss
“You alright?” Gavin asks, standing in the doorway. I love this goofy guy. He’s definitely the best boss I’ve ever had. If he wasn’t so madly in love with my best friend, I probably would’ve tried to put a move on him a long time ago. He’s tall and lean and has this eternal optimism that makes him such a great vice president for the Misfits. I know better than to piss him off though, because those two sides of him are night and day.
“Of course,” I say, using a tissue to blot at my mascara. “Why?”
“I don’t know.” He just hangs out in the doorway, staring at me.
“What did your future wife tell you, Gavin?”
“Nothin’. I swear!”
I squint my eyes at him and curse Sloan’s name in the back of my mind.
“It’s just… you got a little…” he brushes his fingers against the side of his neck, and I slap my hands over the hickey I tried so carefully to cover up with make-up. I must have sprayed it off with the water. “Did someone hurt you? That’s not a bruise is it?”
“It’s exactly what it looks like, Gavin.”
“Well, alright!” he says, reaching his hand out to give me a high five as I just stand there mortified, blinking. I’m sure if he noticed, the other guys probably did, too. “So who is this vampire you’re running around with?”
“You wouldn’t know her,” I say, hoping to throw him off the trail, or at least make this as awkward for him as it is for me. “Also, I need Saturday night off.”
“Sure.” He nods. His eyes are wide.
“Whatever is going on in your mind right now, stop.”
“I gotta go,” he stammers.
“You sure do. I’ll be out in a minute.” I pull out my make-up compact and start dabbing at my neck. He closes the door behind him and I can’t help but laugh to myself a little bit. It’s kind of a win-win. Nobody is the wiser, I get to go to the fight this weekend, and it’s fun to see Gavin sweat. I think that’s one of the reasons why we work so well together.
Now all I have to do is actually act like everything is business as usual. Easier said than done when a big-ass Tank who has been wrecking your world is everywhere you look. I open the desk drawer and pull out the emergency moonshine flask, taking a giant swig.
I adjust my boobs and double-check my lipstick. I’m here to make money. Business as usual. I shut off the office lights and take my spot behind the bar. It’s time to do what I do best, and I definitely am not going to let a man or two come between me and my ability to run this place like a well-oiled machine.
***
My shift goes without incident, really. The guys from the club lingered late tonight and kept me really busy, and I had no time to really hang out with Tank. It actually made things run a lot smoother, not having to worry about any awkward exchanges that could go down.
I turn the lights on at 2 a.m., turn off the jukebox, and start cleaning up.
“We’re gonna hang for a little bit tonight, Ollie,” Gavin says. “You are more than welcome to go.” Every once in awhile, the guys stick around and have an after-party. Usually I’m down to hang out, too. I have nowhere better to be, and they’re fun. They’re my friends. They’re my family.
“You’re more than welcome to stay, too,” Austin says, winking at me. He holds out a little cellophane bag of what appears to be ecstasy.
“Put that shit away,” I bark, staring over at Buzzy dramatically. He’s still holding strong on his regular stool, and by the way the man always refuses to leave, I’m sure he probably thinks he’s entitled to an after-party too. I don’t trust him, though. He doesn’t need to see anything that isn’t completely aboveground.
“Come on, Buzz,” Tank says, taking my cue. “I’ll walk you out. I gotta get going. Early morning.”
“When are you guys going to let me in your club?” Buzzy asks, stumbling over to the men at the bar, like he’s just finding his legs after being perched there for the last few hours.
“You wouldn’t even make it past the first week of prospecting,” Brooks says.
“You’re probably right,” Buzzy slurs. “I know what you guys do up on that mountain. Jerk each other off and sleep with your sisters. I’m sure this broad is probably related to all of you somehow.”
“Time to go, Buzz,” I say, for his own protection. I don’t know if he’s that drunk or that dumb, or if he thinks he sounds hard and it’ll make the guys like him.
“Cousin fuckers,” he shouts.
“He’s kidding, right?” Austin says, standing up and clenching his fist.
“Not worth it,” I say, grabbing Buzzy by the shoulder. “Tank and I will walk him out. I need to go home anyway.”
Buzzy spits on the floor right next to Austin’s boots.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I stammer, digging my fingernails into his arm. “Let’s go.” I say my brief goodbyes to the guys over my shoulder, and Tank holds the door open for Buzzy and I. “Go start the bike up,” I tell him. He eyes me suspiciously over his shoulder as I stand on the front porch of the bar with Buzzy.
I need to have a little talk with this weird little man.
“Are you out of your mind?” I ask. “Do you have a death wish?”
“What are you doing here, Olive?” he asks me. It’s as if he’s suddenly sober.
“Working. Bettering my life. I don’t know, normal human being shit?”
“I just don’t get it,” he says, shaking his head as he walks away. For an instant there, I felt like he knew me, felt like he knew some sort of insight into my life. Then again, if he knew me, he definitely wouldn’t be asking what I was doing here.
Here is pretty much exactly where everyone I knew growing up would expect me to be. Hell, maybe they’d even consider it an upgrade. I know I sure do.
Tank hands me my helmet, and I hop on the bike behind him, wrapping my arms around his solid trunk. He feels like stability to me. All things good in the world. I enjoy the closeness to him as he rides me up the side of the mountain, carefully steering his way around potholes and stopping at the sight of deer grazing on the grassy sides of the road to let them pass without hitting them. I feel so safe riding with him.
It feels so good. It feels so normal.
I don’t want this ride to ever end.
“Where you going?” I shout in Tank’s ear as he keeps driving past their house. He stops the bike on the dirt road and lets it idle.
“I’m taking you home,” he says.
“I want to go home with you,” I say, hugging him tighter. After this evening, I don’t know why, but I really want to spend the night with him. Pretending like we aren’t together is actually really stressful. More stressful than dealing with the consequences, I think.
I want to show him that I’m not just using him to get to Red, and that I really have feelings for him too. I want to cuddle up next to him and let him snore in my ear and cook me breakfast and do those kinds of things that have always stressed me out in the past.
Those normal committed things that most women strive for.
The smile on his face alone lets me know it’s the right choice.
It’s scary as hell. He turns his bike around and I hug him tight, pressing into him with my body.
We go back to the house, all the lights out and everything silent.
“You need anything?” he whispers as we take off our shoes in the doorway.
“I’m good,” I say.
I grab the bag I brought earlier this afternoon and head to the bathroom to take off my make-up, brush my teeth, and change into some comfy shorts and a tank top. He’s in the kitchen when I come out, and I just walk back into the bedroom and slide under the covers. My heart races as I wait for him to come back to bed with me.
He strips down to just his boxer briefs and slides in next to me, wrapping his arm around me tight.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispers, brushing my hair out of my face, and kissing me on the chin.
“Me too,” I whisper back before
closing my eyes. I mean, at least I think I am. At the very least, it feels nice. At the very least, I know he’s happy. At the very least, his body is warm, and the way his hands caress me all over is relaxing me right to sleep.
I’ve never felt this way before about a man. Like, it’s ok to just let him love me, and I don’t have to even try. I don’t think I’ve ever fallen asleep next to a man out of anything other than being too exhausted or drunk to do anything but. He drifts off and I follow shortly behind, a smile across my face.
CHAPTER 10
Red:
I can’t believe I’m saying this, can’t believe I’m feeling this way, but seeing my best friend so happy, even though his arms are wrapped around the girl I love, has made me more content than I’ve been in a long time.
Every morning this week, I’ve been waking up early to train or go for a run or just get to the bike shop to get my work done so I can spend the evening visualizing my upcoming fight and rest, and I can’t help but linger in his doorway for a minute, admiring that shit-eating grin across his face as he hugs her perfect body to his, sound asleep.
Sure, I’m biding my time. Sure, I’m counting down the days to Saturday, and I definitely am more than entitled to some alone time with her after how well-behaved I’ve been forcing myself to be. The sexual tension in this house is out of control. I know she’s purposely teasing me, and I can see how badly she wants both of us at the same time in her eyes every time I go down on her, every time I make her cum, every time I just hang out on the edge of the bed and stare her in the eye while Tank plows her from behind.
I’m all well and Zen right now, in better shape than I’ve ever been for a fight, both mentally and physically, but I know as soon as I get in that ring, I’m definitely going to turn into that monster everyone knows and hates so well. I’m going to knock this guy out, and then I’m going to throw Olive over my shoulder like a caveman and drag her back to the hotel.
“Are you all packed and ready to go?” I ask her as we cuddle on the couch under a blanket Friday afternoon. She’s going to work tonight and her and Tank are going to ride down together tomorrow morning. I’m leaving tonight just so I can get one extra training session in.
“Yeah,” she says, sighing loudly.
“Are you still worried about seeing me get beat up? I promise I’m not going to, Ollie. I have this thing on lockdown.”
“I know.”
“It’s going to be so great, Olive,” I say, tracing my hand up the side of her leg, feeling her soft skin. “Five minutes of work, max, and then we get the weekend all to ourselves. Room service, hot tub, clubbing, champagne, whatever you want, baby.”
“I just worry, I guess,” she sighs. “I guess I just know things are about to change in a really big way, and I don’t know if I feel good about that. Something in the back of my mind keeps telling me this is going too smoothly.”
“Why do you think things are about to change? Nothing is going to change. You’ve only been in our house for a week, but you’ve been in our lives for a long time. I really thought you’d give me more credit than to just want to pull a smash and run, at least not on you.”
“That’s not what I mean. I guess I just feel guilty,” she says. “Obviously I care about Tank so much, it’s painful. He’s like everything I ever dreamed of in a man. But I feel guilty about how I feel in my heart about you. It’s not that I care about you more, it’s that I care about you just as much but in a completely different way. It all feels like cheating the system to me.”
I pull her on top of me so I can look her in the eye. It’s so adorable how sweet she is. She doesn’t realize that her heart is big enough for the both of us, even though she probably has the biggest heart of anyone I know.
“Fuck the system,” I say. “What did the system ever do for us?” I know that’s not what she was aiming at, but I grew up in the system and she knows it.
“There is no system, Olive,” I tell her. “It’s about living the life you want to live. That’s what the MC is all about, and that’s what I’m all about, and as long as we’re all happy, who gives a fuck about some sort of societal expectations?”
“Well aren’t you philosophical all of a sudden,” she teases, running her fingers through my beard.
“Strange things happen when I am forced to use my brain instead of my dick to solve problems,” I laugh, kissing her softly on the lips. “Don’t you worry, though, I’ll be back to normal in less than forty-eight hours.”
“I don’t know whether I should be excited or afraid,” she laughs.
“Probably a little bit of both.”
“Well, you know that’s how I like it,” she giggles, raising her eyebrows at me.
“If you’re going to say stuff like that, you better get out of here right now,” I say, sliding her off of me. “I’ve never thrown a fight, but I would definitely do it for you.”
“Oh no you won’t,” she says, standing up from the couch. “You know I’m not going anywhere. Plus, I’m really looking forward to getting out of town for the weekend. It’s been awhile.”
She kisses me on the forehead and grabs her purse from the coffee table. “I need to go home and get ready for work and pack. Have Tank text me before he picks me up?”
“You got it.”
“You travel safe,” she says. “Call me when you get to the hotel. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I watch her leave, and try to get back into warrior mode, clearing my mind and focusing on my upcoming fight, but all I can think about is how calm I feel. How peaceful she makes me. How good our lives are going to be together. I don’t know if this is a blessing or a curse, but I guess we’ll find out tomorrow in the ring.
CHAPTER 11
Olive:
“Wake up, sleepy,” Tank says, brushing my hair out of my face as I try and pull the covers up over my head. We had a late night at the bar, and cleanup took longer than normal, on account of the rain lately, and a lot of bikers wearing muddy boots. Usually, after a night like that, I’ll lay in bed until it’s dark outside, wake up, shower, and do it all over again.
“Aw, come on, Tank,” I groan. “I’m gonna need at least another hour.”
“You can sleep in the truck on the way down,” he says.
“I’m pretty sure I can’t leave the house looking like this.” I sigh, throwing the sheets off. I’ve got on boy shorts only, and my hair is so knotted it probably has natural dreadlocks in it. My eyes feel like they’re crusted shut because I definitely didn’t take the time to wipe my make-up off last night. I just stripped down and fell into bed.
“I mean, if you put on a shirt, you’re probably fine,” he laughs, pinching my nipple. “Come on, go get in the shower, I made you coffee. You can get ready when we get to the hotel. Plus, I personally like you like this. You’re so pretty without make-up.”
“Oh I’m wearing make-up,” I laugh, kissing him gently on the lips. “Just not in the right places.”
“I think my pillowcase is wearing more make-up than you are,” he teases.
I take a nice hot shower and think about the day ahead as I shave my legs and try and let the conditioner in my hair work its detangling magic. I haven’t stayed in a hotel in a really long time. Actually, I’ve probably never stayed in a hotel. Motels, yes. Anything more than two stars is like an exotic vacation in my mind.
I know Red is convinced that we have nothing to worry about in terms of the possible change in our relationship after today, but it’s hard for me to deny the way I’m feeling.
Tank is obviously Mr. Right. Red is obviously Mr. Right Up My Alley. It hurts to admit which one I prefer, even though I know how bad those relationships always end for me. I feel guilty feeling that way, when the nicest, kindest man I’ve ever met, the man I’m falling for harder every day is in the kitchen right now making me breakfast.
I get out of the shower and dry off, brush my teeth, and pack my little overnight bag with anything I’m going to need for the weekend from
the bathroom.
“Did you brush your teeth?” I yell out into the kitchen. “I’ll throw your stuff in my bag if you want.”
“It’s ok,” he yells back. “I have my own.”
I put on my bathrobe and join him in the kitchen, a cup of coffee waiting for me. He pulls an English muffin out of the toaster and smears peanut butter on it.
“My favorite,” I say as he sets it in front of me.
There’s a knock on the door, and he goes to answer it, peeking out curtains in the living room before opening it. I hear it close behind him and look over to see that he must have went outside. I don’t think much more of it; I just finish up my food and go back in the bedroom to throw on some sweatpants.
I have a really sexy outfit picked out for tonight. If I’m going to be sitting ringside, I want to make sure I look perfect. I double-check my suitcase to make sure I have everything I need, including the scandalous black lingerie that I’ve been saving for a special occasion.
“You about ready?” Tank asks, coming back in the bedroom.
“Who was that at the door?”
“It was my mom,” he says.
“Is everything alright?” I know he has a good relationship with his parents, and I admire that. I envy it, even. The thought that maybe I could one day be a part of a decent family is something so foreign to me. The upsides of dating this man keep stacking up higher and higher.
“Yeah, everything is fine, she was just dropping off some mail that accidentally got sent to their house.”
“She didn’t want to come in?”
The way he’s avoiding my eye contact makes me uncomfortable.
“Olive, I swear she’s going to love you. It’s just…”
“Weird?” I ask. “Awkward?”
“Yeah,” he mutters.
“I don’t disagree with you, babe,” I say. “I’m not going anywhere. We can take this as slowly as we need to. Besides, I don’t want to look like a homeless person the first time I meet your parents.”
