by K E Osborn
Ari laughs throwing a cloth at Xav as I grab another and begin cleaning myself and then the freezer glass. “Stop it, guys. He’s not that hot. Sure, he might have muscles and a relatively okay face, but that doesn’t change the fact that the douche came in here with his two goons and abused the situation. He could have paid for the yogurt. We’re not making a heap of money in case you haven’t noticed. It’s kinda dead in here for a Friday night. Fox Froyo Bar can’t be giving handouts. We need all the income we can pull in right now. Mom and Dad need this place, Xav.”
Xav’s smile falters, and he nods. “I know. But I’m sure three cups of frozen yogurt isn’t going to send our parents into bankruptcy, Heels. It’ll be okay.” He moves in beside me and bumps into my side tenderly.
“You’re just pretending to be angry so you can avoid the topic at hand anyway,” Ari says.
“What topic?”
She grabs a broom straddling the handle between her legs and starts to gyrate on it. “You want to kiiis him, you want to suuuck him, you want to looove him, you want to fuuuck him…” she sings all while humping the broomstick.
I snort with laughter as Xav pulls out his cell and starts to snap pics of Ari on the broom.
These two. They’re my life. I can’t imagine not having them around.
I turn and continue cleaning, then slip out the back to change while they fuss about singing and dancing to their own stupid made-up song. I ignore them, and my thoughts wander to Torque and the way his muscles rippled beneath his shirt. The way his eyes lit up when he looked at me. The way my body ignited when his fingers touched mine. He definitely lit something inside of me.
But I know men like him, they’re dangerous and not just because of who they are. Sure, he’s a member of an MC—president at that—and I know he’d be into bad shit, but also the fact he’s a biker means he’s probably a womanizer, and I’m not down for that shit. So whatever fascination my body has for him, I won’t let my mind enter into thoughts of what could be.
Because a girl like me and a guy like him—it could never work.
Could it?
Waking up, my eyes feel heavy from an endless night of study and barely any sleep. But it’s Saturday today, and at least I don’t have to attend class. I can spend the day quietly with my head in my books before I have to go back to the store. Thoughts of Torque have plagued my mind all night which made it hard for me to concentrate on my study. Stretching, I sit up on my giant queen-size bed. Living alone definitely has its perks. I can walk around naked if I want, I can sing along to crappy music at the top of my lungs while cooking, and I can leave my room in a pigsty which happens a lot because I’m too busy to actually clean it myself.
Looking around at the piles of papers, clothing, and general chaos scattered over the floor, I groan and shake my head. Pulling the turquoise comforter off me, I swing my legs around. “I really need to fix my damn life,” I mumble into the air as I plant my feet on the plush cream carpet and stand up stretching my arms high into the air with an exaggerated yawn. “But first… coffee.”
Kicking my way through the mess on the floor, I walk out of my bedroom to my small kitchenette. The three whitewash cupboards beneath the bench are so small you can barely fit a set of saucepans in them. The dishwasher is only half the size of a normal one—it’s like a half drawer that pulls out—and my sink, well, that thing is so tiny I can only just fit my dinner plates in there. To the right, there’s a two-burner range hood, and above that, a microwave sits next to another set of high shelving. And all of this sits in a little under seven feet of space. So when I say my kitchen is tiny, it’s not an understatement. But it is home, and it is me, so it’s all I need.
I walk up to my coffee pot and hit the brew button. I set it up last night knowing I’d want a cup this morning after cramming so late last night. So, I set the pot brewing, and walk over to the desk nook to the left of the kitchen. It’s a small alcove inbuilt inside the wall. The wall is painted blue, and an office style desk is built into the indent. My laptop’s closed, but my notes and textbooks are still open from last night’s study session spread out everywhere.
Looking down, I see my Gray’s Anatomy for Students by Henry Gray open, and there’s a detailed illustration of the human body including muscles, veins, and arteries, and I smile a genuine smile.
My life was supposed to follow the family business. Mom and Dad opened an ice-cream bar when they were young, and as times changed and the market changed with it, they morphed the ice-cream bar into a froyo shop putting their life savings into the store. Xav and I are supposed to continue the tradition. Carry the store on for the next generation. Form franchises if we can. But with the downturn in the economy, I don’t see that happening. Plus, my heart honestly isn’t in dairy and being behind the counter.
Xav’s all for it, though. He loves Fox Froyo Bar, so I figure he can keep the family tradition going. Me, I want something more from life than frozen yogurt. I want to be something, but most of all I feel the need to help people.
I want to be a doctor.
I’ve wanted this for as long as I can remember. Ever since the day Xav fell off his bike and broke his wrist. At the time, I felt the need to take his pain away. I wanted with everything in me to help him, but I couldn’t. We went to the hospital, and I was in awe—the way they eased his pain, the way they cast his arm—it was like my eyes were opened up to a whole new world of medicine. I was changed that day. And ever since, I’ve only wanted to be a doctor.
I left high school with every intention to continue at the froyo store. To follow in my parents’ footsteps. And I did. For two years. But the call to medicine was too strong, I couldn’t deny it, so I fought for it, hard. My parents hate it, but eventually gave in and let me attend college to do what I really want, and that’s to sink my hands deep into medicine and not damn dairy products.
So, I’m in the third of my four years of pre-med. It’s fucking hard, and I’m two years older than everyone else in my classes, not that it’s a real issue, I get by. Going to school all day, working in the evenings, and then studying all night is beginning to wear thin. I know I only have one more year of study left then I start med school. I’m looking forward to getting in the thick of it and seeing it firsthand rather than written in a textbook. Sure, we’ve had demonstrations and other stuff at university, but nothing that’s blown my mind. I want to see it all. I want to perform my own surgeries. Hell, I want to diagnose someone and then find a way to fix them. I can’t wait to get in there and get my hands dirty. It fills me with so much excitement I want to burst.
The hot coffee drips slowly into the jug, and I smile knowing I’ll have my caffeine hit soon enough, and the world will be better for it. Stepping up to the pot, I pour my mug full and make my way over to my desk for another day packed full of study before I have to go to work tonight.
But as I sit down, my mind wanders to last night. The way Torque ran into the store. His toned body beneath those tattered jeans, tight black tee and that kinda sexy black leather biker’s cut he wore, has me wondering just how fit he is. He looked like he’d have abs of steel. It’s been so long since I’ve been with a guy, I’ve been way too busy with school to even contemplate my sex life, or furthermore my dating life.
The last physical contact I had with a guy was Spencer. He was a fellow student in my class back in the first year of university. We were study partners. Then one thing led to another, and we studied each other as well as the textbooks if you know what I mean. But the demand for school work became harder, and friendship blossomed. We decided that our relationship was more friendship and having sex, while fun, was starting to feel weird. So we cooled it. We’re still good friends, and we help each other in class all the time. I couldn’t imagine going through pre-med without him in my life.
Going two years without sex, while I don’t have a need for it, sometimes the cravings become hard to resist. And while Torque aggravated my mind, he certainly ignited my body as much as
I don’t want to admit it.
Letting out a heavy sigh, I take a long sip of my hot coffee, allowing the bitter liquid to warm my mouth as it continues its journey and slides down my throat.
Liquid gold.
Taking a seat, I slump into the chair and close my eyes as I clench my jaw tight wondering how a chance meeting with one man can have me so on edge. Sure, mornings aren’t my finest hour, but I feel off this morning. I’m restless. I can’t sit still as I move on the seat from side to side to try and stop the uncomfortable feeling growing inside of me.
I’ve found men attractive in the past, sure. But Torque? He’s dangerously sexy. And as much as I don’t want to admit it, I can’t get him out of my mind. In a way, I secretly hope I’m able to see him again. For two reasons mainly. One, so I can try and take in more of his damn good looks. Two, and more importantly, so I can throw some more sass in his direction. Because the way he looked at me when I was kicking his ass verbally, well that energized me, and fuck if I don’t love that feeling.
Opening my eyes, I shake my head placing my mug down on the desk and stiffen my shoulders. “Get a grip, Heeley. He’s a damn biker, one you’ll never hear from again. Now get to work,” I tell myself as I pick up my pen, slide the tip into my mouth, and focus on the words of the textbook.
My head is full after a long day of study. Well, I can try and tell myself I studied, but in reality, all I did was relive every word and moment of last night with Torque. I can’t understand why someone who annoys me so much, also has me so fucking worked up. It’s pissing me off as I scoop out a serve of yogurt for a customer.
“Would you like any toppings today?” I ask, my voice flat and void of the typical pep and vigor I usually have reserved for my customers.
“Umm… oh, I don’t know…” she stands there for a second, “… maybe the Graham Cracker crumbs.”
I nod and move to the topping section.
“No, wait… maybe the cookie dough, or maybe the chopped Oreos…” She looks to her boyfriend who she’s hanging off, and I slump my body in annoyance. At this rate, her frozen yogurt will turn into traditional yogurt. “Oh… maybe I should get some whipped cream?” She looks at her boyfriend through her lashes and smiles. “I know how you looove whipped cream.”
“Oh, please,” I murmur under my breath, and her head snaps to me, and she frowns.
“Sorry, what?”
“Oh… I said raspberries. They’ll go nicely with this flavor.” I put on the biggest of fake smiles, and she nods and grins back at me.
“Oh, yes. Perfect! This place is great. I like it when you make suggestions. I’ll be sure to tell all my friends to come here from now on.” She beams as I hand her a cup of froyo with a warm smile, and she shifts off to Xav to pay.
I turn to see Ari watching me, and she giggles stepping up while wiping her hands on her apron. “So, you’re in a mood, have been since you started your shift.”
I snort and go about cleaning my station. “Am not.”
Geez, great comeback, Heeley.
She moves in beside me as the couple walk out, and Xav steps up to join us. “You are, too. I’m guessing you’re still annoyed about last night, and the bad boy biker trio showing up in here…Did you tell Mom and Dad?” Xav asks.
I slowly shake my head, then it becomes more vigorous as I realize what he’s said. “What? Are you kidding? No way. If they knew we were harboring felons, they’d keel the fuck over.”
Ari giggles while shaking her head. “How do you know they’re felons? They might be Christian bikers.”
Raising my brow, I tilt my head. “Right, and I’m going to quit medicine and take the dairy industry by storm…” I pause and roll my eyes. “Both things are highly unlikely, Ari.”
Xav shrugs. “I don’t know why you’re so dead against working here. I like this place. I, for one, am happy to be taking over when the oldies decide it’s time.”
“Well, that’s good. You do that. Then I can take care of all the customers that come in with diabetic ailments which need treatment from all the sugar you’re feeding them.”
Ari and Xav both laugh as the door to the store opens, and a young man steps in. That usually wouldn’t be something to cause alarm, but this young man has scruffy brown hair, a face full of an almost neat beard, tattered jeans, a tight black tee and a black leather cut. I stiffen my posture as I look at the young guy. He has a cigarette dangling from his mouth, the smoke billowing through the air as he walks into the store and looks around, taking in our store with not one shit to be given.
I glance to Ari, and she subtly reaches for the broom. Not that it will do much against this guy, but it’s better than nothing.
I’m the first to make a move stepping forward to the dividing bench—which was fixed first thing this morning—and give him a long hard stare.
What is it with these bikers?
Are they all genetically enhanced to be good looking?
“Are you one of Torque’s crew?” I ask gaining his attention as he stops looking around the store and brings his attention to me with a sly smile. He pulls the cigarette from his mouth and blows out a waft of smoke, the smell of tobacco filling the air as he steps up to the divider. His demeanor should be intimidating, but there’s something about his sideways smirk and kind eyes that has my nerves calming a notch.
He points to a patch on the top of his leather cut. “The patch says Defiance MC. So, that’s a giveaway, right?” He takes another drag on his cigarette, and I flare my nose at the smell he’s sending through the store.
I point to the ‘no smoking’ sign which is clearly visible on the counter, and there are signs on the door as well. “You know this is a smoke-free zone, right?”
He chuckles as I fold my arms across my chest. With one swift action, he reaches up grabbing one of the froyo cups and then proceeds to dab out his cigarette in the bottom of the cup.
“Apologies. I kinda forget sometimes you can’t smoke wherever the fuck you want these days. It’s a bad habit. So, ah… I’m guessing by the spirit in your tone you’re Heeley?”
I jolt my head back. “What? Why?”
He shakes his head. “Don’t look so nervous. I’m only here to give you this.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out an envelope and places it on the counter along with the cup that contains his still-smoldering stinky butt. “Torque would be here himself. But he had some…” he pauses searching for the right words and then continues, “… business to attend to.”
I let out a huff. “So what are you? His lackey?” I’m really annoyed, but more at myself for being crappy that Torque isn’t here instead.
He chuckles and nods. “Well, basically, yeah. I’m a prospect for the club. So you can call me a lackey, a minion… hell, you can call me a slave. I don’t fucking care. Think what you like. Way I see it, I’m doing my part for the club I love, for the brothers who protect me and my own. So yeah, I might do the shitty jobs, but at least I’m a part of something real. Something that wraps up your life and takes care of you like a family. I know you won’t understand, but to me having an opportunity to gain my patch is everything. I’d give and do anything for this club, for my president because they’ve given me everything.”
My stomach flips slightly with the amount of devotion oozing from this guy. He believes every word he’s saying, and I have to admit it sounds intriguing. I don’t know much about bikers, other than what you read or hear about in the news, and well, that’s never favored on the good side of things, but maybe they get a bad rap. Who knows? Perhaps there’s more to them than meets the eye.
“Well, I’m glad you’ve found a place that’s right for you.”
He smiles. “And what about you, Heeley? Are you where you need to be?”
A furrow forms in my brows wondering what he means by that. He shoves the envelope forward a little more on the counter, and with a wink, he turns and heads for the door.
I’m a little shocked by his words. It’s like somehow he
knows I want more in my life than this froyo bar. Almost like he’s aware I’m studying medicine, but how can he? I glance up at the man walking away from me and take a deep breath as tightness engulfs my chest. “Wait… what’s your name?”
He doesn’t turn back, he doesn’t stop walking, he merely opens the door with a chuckle. “Tremor,” he merely replies before he walks through the door, and it closes behind him.
I let out a long breath and look to Xav and Ari who are both standing there wide-eyed and mouths open.
“What the hell was that?” Ari asks.
“I have no idea,” I reply with a shake of my head.
“Well… open the envelope,” Xav blurts out impatiently.
I’d almost forgotten about it as I turn to see my name scribbled on the front in semi-legible handwriting. It’s even spelled right. Raising my brow, I pick it up and turn it over slipping my finger between behind the flap and rip it open. There are four green fifty-dollar bills looking back at me.
Blinking a few times, I pull them out and scrunch up my face. “What on earth?”
Ari grabs one from my hand and raises it to the air, looking through the subtle hints of blue and yellow obviously to check if it’s counterfeit, while I examine the inside of the envelope again to see a note which I pull out.
“It’s not fake,” Ari yells as she yanks on both sides testing the bill once more.
Shaking my head, I stare at the handwritten note and begin to read.
Heeley,
First, I want to apologize for not coming in tonight to see you and give you this myself. I have something I can’t get out of, but if I could, I would be there in person.
I hope you will accept this money for the yogurt my brothers and I took from you last night and to fix the counter divider.
If it doesn’t cover the cost, let me know, and I will top you up with the remainder.
I’m glad it was your store we ‘ran’ into. Meeting you was a breath of fresh air in an atmosphere of staleness.
