by Layla Frost
Fuck.
“I think you’re great,” I started, and even I knew it sounded like a blow-off. Which was exactly what it was. “I just don’t think either of us is right for the other.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I’m not the same person away from my parents. My life isn’t just a rebellion against my mother. It’s who I am, and, though I can’t see the future, my best bet is that this is how I’ll always be. I’m not dinner-party-Piper. I’m rock ‘n’ roll-party-Piper.”
Don’t forget makeout-and-have-a-sleepover-with-a-badass-Piper.
James nodded. “Maybe I’d like that Piper, too. If you need to think about it, that’s fine. All I ask is you give me the chance to decide for myself.”
My romantic life wasn’t wild but there had always been a decent enough amount of interest. However, two men telling me they were into me in twenty-four hours was definitely a personal record.
On the downside, neither of them were the one that I wanted. Although, Rhys was a whole lot closer to my type than James.
“Okay, I’ll think about it,” I lied. I knew I wouldn’t be putting the thought into him that I would with Rhys. I had zero romantic feelings towards James, and there was no spark between us that hinted at anything developing.
I honestly doubted that his interest in me went much beyond how it would secure his career and future with Thomas’ company. My dilemma came from how to tell him without making it tense and weird whenever we saw each other.
Why is it not acceptable to run away from awkward situations, flailing my arms and screaming like a certain green frog puppet does?
I was trying not to giggle as I pictured that when James regained my attention.
“Piper, do you know that man?” James asked, guardedly.
I looked in my driveway to see a sweet hog next to my Charger. Though facing the other way, I definitely knew that man. I’d spent a lot of time trying not to think about him.
I’d also failed miserably at it.
“Yes, that’s Jake.”
“Are you in some sort of trouble? I know your mother said you were being stubborn about money, but if you’re in trouble—”
“No!” I interrupted. I’d have laughed at the obvious presumption and misperception of Jake, if it weren’t sad. It was also the perfect example of why James and I would never happen. “I’m definitely not in trouble.”
I didn’t think I was, at least. However, the look on Jake’s face as he watched us pull in made me think twice.
“Are you dating a biker?” James looked at me as if the idea was insane.
“No, James. Jake is a friend.”
One that is incredibly hot, makes me think some very un-friend like things, and kisses me until I forget my own name.
James put the car in park and opened his door. He got out and hurried to my side.
Jake beat him to it, though, throwing open my door and grabbing my hand to haul me out. He kept hold of me as he closed the door with a bit more force than was probably required.
I turned to face James, but felt Jake close behind me.
James was all soft and safe niceness. Tall enough at five foot eleven, he had plain, sandy colored hair and brown eyes, though his weren’t quite as warm as Eli’s.
He was safe.
Nice.
Boring.
My mother was out of her damned mind to think that James was who I’d choose. That safe and boring was all I wanted in life. I’d had more than enough of that.
I wanted wild.
“Uh, James, this is my friend Jake. Jake, this is James.”
The men gave chin lifts to each other.
Alright, moving on.
“Thank you for tonight, James,” I said, lifting just slightly to give him a polite kiss on the cheek. It ended up as an air one when Jake used his hold on my hand to pull me back.
“You’re welcome,” James said. Hesitantly, he glanced at Jake, then back at me. “Would you like me to stay for coffee?”
If you don’t leave soon, I will literally push you into your car. Don’t test me!
“That’s okay. Thanks.”
“If you’re sure. Let me know if you need anything. And, please, think about what we talked about, alright?”
“Have a nice night, James.”
Jake turned and walked us to my front door without giving me the chance to wave James off.
When I grabbed my keys from my clutch, Jake took them from me, opening the door and pulling me in.
“What’s he want you to think about?” he asked when we got inside.
“Hi, Jake. How are you? How’s your evening going?”
“Cute. What’s he want?”
“Uhh, about the same as Rhys last night.”
“He wants time with you?”
“He didn’t word it like that, but that was the gist of it. Where are the guys?” I attempted to switch topics.
“Out at The Noise. Why?”
The Noise was supposed to be the best biker bar in the area. One I hoped to visit in a few months when my ID would get me in.
“I thought you were going out with them. Everything alright?”
“Yeah, just makin’ sure you got home.”
I held my arms out. “Well, as you can see, I did. Go enjoy your night.”
“Babe?” I could hear amusement in his voice, and the corners of his lips were twitching, as if he were fighting a smile.
“What?”
“What the fuck are you wearin’?”
“A dress?”
“I got that. But it’s fuckin’ boring.”
“I’m boring.”
“No, you’re anythin’ but.”
“I am. I’m totally boring.” I opened the door. “Thank you for checking on me, Jake. It was very sweet of you. Have fun tonight.”
His arm looped around my waist as he suddenly pulled me to him. “Piper?”
“Hmm?” I mumbled, unable to form words with his body pressed to mine.
“Why don’t you kiss me like you do everyone else?”
“What do you mean?” I had no issue with kissing him. I’d totally do it.
A lot.
All over.
Do that now!
“Everyone else gets a kiss when you say thank you.”
Going up on my tiptoes, my body slid against his. I pulled him down slightly and pressed a kiss to his cheek, feeling his scruff against my lips.
I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe I was focused on the wrong thing. Sure, running my fingers over his scruff would probably feel awesome. Feeling my lips on it, though, was near orgasmic.
“Better?” I asked, happy to sound steady when I felt far from it.
“Not yet,” he answered as I yawned. “Tired?”
I nodded. “And tipsy.”
“You drank?”
“Yeah, a glass of wine. Or four.”
“That’d do it. Go get some sleep.”
I nodded, intending to do just that. Giving in to my drunken impulse, I went back up on my tiptoes. I lightly pressed my lips to his before sliding back down. “Thank you, Jake.”
His eyes went hooded, his voice huskier. “Now that? That I like.”
“Me, too.”
Jake brought his hand up to cup my cheek.
I held my breath, silently willing him to kiss me again.
“Sweet dreams, Piper,” he rumbled, before turning and walking to his bike.
I was drunk enough to call out to him. Drunk enough to ask him to stay the night with me again. To want him to kiss me, to touch me, to make me feel wild.
I was sober enough, though, to know better.
So I did the smart thing and stayed quiet as I watched him leave.
If only the smart thing was also the fun thing.
Chapter Three
Groupie
When I woke up the next morning, I was surprised to see it was almost eleven. It’d been a while since I’d slept in so late. The best part was that I
didn’t have to jump out of bed in a rush.
There were no cakes to bake or homework to do. I had to sketch some designs, but I already had some clear visuals in my head.
I grabbed my phone and burrowed back into my blankets to enjoy the rare opportunity to be lazy. I reviewed some waiting emails, but all of them were business that didn’t need to be taken care of right away. I clicked to check texts.
The first waiting message made me feel guilty.
Dana was one of the only people from my mother’s side of my life that I could stand. We weren’t close, but we were kind of friends. I’d been so caught up with cakes and school that I’d barely talked to her.
Dana: Wasn’t last night your date with the dreamy James? How’d it go?
Only Dana would describe James as ‘dreamy’.
Me: It wasn’t a date. Just dinner at my mother’s. We barely talked.
Dana: Are you seeing him again?
Me: He works for Thomas, I’m sure I’ll see him often.
Dana: You know what I mean. You’ve gotta hook him soon, Piper. I don’t even get how he’s still single. He’s young, he’s attractive, and he’s successful. Plus, he seems to tolerate your… you-ness.
Ahh, isn’t that what every chick dreams of? A guy who totally tolerates them for who they are. Excuse me while I start knitting booties for all the babies that we’re going to tolerate together.
Me: Yeah, he does seem to do that. Anyway, I gotta get in the shower. I’ll talk to you later.
Dana: We have to get together, maybe tonight?
Me: Probably not tonight, but soon.
Dana might be a friend, but hanging with her could be draining. She was competitive about everything and constantly needed to outdo everyone. Last time we’d had lunch, she’d switched between badmouthing her other friends, discussing her diet, and making constant mention of her money and shopping.
She wasn’t always the easiest person to hang out with but she’d never been quite this bad before. Unfortunately, she was unreceptive when I’d tried to gently broach the subject.
On my rare day off, I didn’t want to deal.
I switched to another message and did a giddy bounce when I saw it was from Jake.
Way to play it cool, Piper.
Jake: Mornin’.
Me: Yo.
Jake: Another wine filled date tonight?
Me: I was thinking I’d move up to vodka.
Jake: Cute. Wanna come party instead?
Me: On a Sunday?
Jake: What, you think we take Sundays off?
Me: Ain’t no rest for the wicked?
Jake: Rest is for the dead. Life is for the living, Piper.
His words hit me hard. I didn’t want to play it safe and live with regrets. I wanted to do what I loved and make the most of the life that I had. It’s what I’d been trying to do, what I’d been working for.
While I looked at his words, another message from him popped up.
Jake: So, plans?
As much as life was for the living, it was also for enjoying the rare, peaceful quiet. Especially when that included some chocolate and garbage TV.
Me: Just being lazy tonight, no work.
Jake: So that’s a yes then.
Me: No, it’s a me saying I’m being lazy, so maybe another time.
Jake: Would you change your mind if I said it was a party at our bud Jet’s house?
Me: Uhh, no?
Jake: What if I said that Jet was the X-ers drummer?
Me: No way! I saw them in concert once, they’re amazing. How do you know him?
Jake: We went to school together. They’re leavin’ on tour in a few days. Tonight is a goin’ away thing. In?
Me: Oh, I’m so in.
Jake: I see how it is. When it was just me, you were lazy. Now you’re goin’ for the band. Groupie.
Me: Damn straight. What time?
Jake: I’ll pick you up at eight.
Me: Awesome.
Jake: I gotta get some work done. See ya, babe.
Now how am I supposed to be lazy?
*******
“No, I’m sure this sketch would get approved. Who wouldn’t want a cake that looked like it was cut with a weed whacker?” I muttered to myself. Tilting my sketchbook to the side, I looked at it again. “Or maybe it was mauled by Satan’s cats.” Ripping the paper out, I crumpled it up and tossed it on the growing pile.
When it became obvious that my focus wasn’t on the badly doodled cake sketches I was working on, I gave up trying. Instead, I decided to make the most of my day off and pamper myself with a soak in the tub and all things girly.
Fearing a repeat of Friday night, I didn’t spend too long in the bath. Of course when I gave myself the time, my makeup only took one redo.
Even my hair cooperated when I used a barrel brush to blow-dry it wild. With my luck, I’d expected it to fall flat, become a snarled mess, or maybe even start on fire.
When I finished my hair and makeup, I pulled on dark gray skinny jeans and a thick, hot pink belt. After, I stood, for what felt like forever, staring into my open closet.
Okay, so apparently the perfect shirt isn’t going to catapult itself out at me.
Damn.
Jeans and my hot pink wedge shoes were a safe bet. The top was what would make the outfit casual or dressy.
The problem was that I had no clue what kind of party it was going to be. I could safely guess that it wasn’t going to be overly formal, but that still left a lot of options.
I reached for a fitted t-shirt when something towards the back caught my eye. Shifting hangers, I pulled out a corset style top.
Dark gray with pink detailing, the halter showed off my tattoos, accentuated my curves, and looked rocker glam. I’d bought it on a whim but had never worn it.
If there was any place to wear rocker glam, I figured a party at an actual rocker’s house was it.
I was putting on a gray bolero when there was a knock on the door. Opening it, I was surprised to see Jake.
“Hey, you’re early.”
Jake didn’t say anything, but his eyes swept over me, making me wonder if I should’ve gone with a more casual look.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“No, not really.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Don’t suppose I could convince you to go change, huh?”
“Should I? I wasn’t sure what type of thing this was.”
“Got any sweats and hoodies four sizes too big?”
“Um, no?”
Jake shook his head. “Then don’t bother. You look hot, sweets.”
Sweets?
“Thanks, so do you.”
Which wasn’t quite true. He was definitely working a scorching look in motorcycle boots and worn in black jeans. A white t-shirt contrasted with his tanned skin and showed off his tats and strong arms. His hair was pulled back and I wondered again how it looked down.
And how it felt.
I was thinking I might be starting to get a tiny bit obsessed.
Starting?
Tiny?
Full-blown, baby.
“What happened to the other kind of thanks?” he asked, his voice low.
His arms went around me, pulling me closer as he lowered his mouth lightly to mine.
I liked gentle a lot but my body remembered the kiss from Friday night. Without thought, I used my tongue to trace the seam of Jake’s lips.
He groaned before deepening the kiss.
Too soon he pulled back, ending the moment. “We gotta go.”
“Okay,” I murmured from my haze.
“Fuck, really wanna kiss those lips again, but then we won’t be leavin’ at all.”
“Okay,” I repeated.
I’m sure there’s some appeal to leaving, but I can’t for the life of me remember what. Maybe we should stay here until I figure it out.
My face must have shown my thoughts, making Jake kiss me again, hard but much too fast.
 
; “Let’s go, sweets.”
I locked up and followed him down the walkway, running my hand over the back of my neck. My nerves were on edge about tonight and I couldn’t shake my anxiety lately. I was worried about doing something embarrassing and having to avoid Jake and the guys.
As in, I’d be changing my name and moving to a remote town where the moose outnumbered the people.
I caught sight of Jake’s Fat Boy Lo Harley, pulling me from my heavy thoughts. I’d seen it briefly last night, but the close-up view was infinitely better. Black with chrome detailing, it was sleek and powerful without looking like a crotch rocket. Not that I minded crotch rockets on occasion, but my love was for cruisers.
As much as I wanted a bike, I figured delivering cakes on one might get a little messy, so I went with the van.
“Awesome,” I whispered reverently.
Jake’s lip twitched. He grabbed a helmet and put it on me, his fingers lightly brushing my jaw and neck. Straddling the bike, he took care of his own helmet before helping me on.
Under normal circumstances, even in heels, I’d have had no issue getting on the bike. After seeing him on it, however, I was finding myself a little weak in the knees.
As the engine roared to life, I wrapped my arms around Jake’s waist. He pulled them tighter, moving me closer in the process.
With my front flush to his back, I could feel each muscle ripple, each tendon tighten, as he moved. I rested my head between his shoulders as we took off.
I was disappointed when we pulled into a driveway. I loved the feel of the ride, the sights flying by as the wind whipped around us. It was invigorating. It was beautiful.
It was freedom.
Experiencing it pressed tight to Jake didn’t hurt, either.
Jake pulled up to the side of the house and cut the engine. Hopping off the back, I set the helmet with his and shook out my hair.
“Damn,” someone said from the porch.
I turned and barely contained my fangirl squeal when I saw Jet.
“Hey, baby, I’m Jet. Before anyone else sees you, how about you and I—”
“Too late,” Jake said. Curling his arm around my shoulders, we walked towards the steps.