“Give me two of the Boston creams, three with sprinkles, four glaze, and three blueberries,” I called out the order to the young girl behind the counter as her eyes roamed my body from the floor to my chest.
“Ah. Yeah. Okay. You got it,” she stammered, pinching the tongs and filling the box with the doughnuts one at a time. The barely legal girl batted her eyelashes, giving me what I could only assume to be her best attempt at a seductive look. I smiled respectfully trying not to completely crush her, but I didn’t want to give her false hope either. I wasn’t here to chase tail; I was here only to pick up a peace offering for Mary and get the fuck out. That was the plan before this random girl who was maybe in her early twenties crossed my path…technically, I guess I was in her way, but it didn’t matter. I definitely was getting out of the door as quick as I came through it now. Most of the guys didn’t care if a piece of ass was questionably eighteen or older, I did. It had always been one of my pet peeves.
“I’m taking this to my ex’s house. She likes the glazed kind,” I told her a white-lie, hoping she would get the point without me having to actually spell it out for her. I was technically taking them to Ray’s house, it just wasn’t the one where she currently lived. She used to like the glazed ones, which definitely wasn’t the reason I bought four as if I was wishing to see her. I liked them, too. At least, that was what I told myself because fuck, I didn’t want to go there with expectations.
“You know, most people are ex’s for a reason, right?” She pouted, pursing her lips outward and watched me as she stood closing the box. Not that I was entertaining the idea, because I wasn’t, but if I were thinking about it, I definitely wouldn’t be now. I hated how some people automatically thought they shouldn’t have to put any effort into getting things. Truthfully, the attitude as a whole pissed me off.
“That’s what people say,” I barked a little more aggressively than I had intended and paid for the doughnuts as quickly as I could.
Mary mentioned she wouldn’t be volunteering anywhere today and should be home if I wanted to drop by. I took that as her way of politely telling me to get my ass to her house, and when her eyebrows pulled together, she made it pretty clear I shouldn’t have waited this long to do so. She loved sweets, therefore, going emptyhanded to her house, especially knowing she was pissed at me, would be colossally idiotic.
I killed the engine of my Harley and kicked the standout, carefully leaning the bike’s weight on it. Even though kickstands had been supporting things for longer than I’d been living, I didn’t trust it entirely. I was no physicist by any means, but such a tiny thing holding all that up was sketchy to me. There had to be a window of error, and I didn’t want my bike in whatever small percentage of failure I didn’t know. I couldn’t afford another ride now or anytime soon. The truth was, Ghoul helped me fix one of his old bikes, and I eventually bought it off him in order to have something to ride. To be a brother, you had to have a bike, that was common sense. A person couldn’t be a biker without a bike. There were special cases, like Spider, the old fucker wasn’t able to ride anymore, but he was still our brother. Hell, he was one of the original members of our chapter, and there was never a question of removing him when his arthritis got so bad he couldn’t straddle a motorcycle anymore. Whenever we had church or parties, we all took turns taking a cage to go get him and made sure he was in attendance. Ghoul enforced this rule, which was one on a shortlist that he did. Anyone that Ghoul personally brought into the club held a special place with him. I was one of those brothers.
I took over Dad’s shop a year before he passed away, and it was the reason I stayed in Ohio not chasing Ray and her dream in Kentucky. Someone had to run the family business, and being that I was the only child remotely interested, it fell to me. Honestly, I was lucky it did. We didn’t have the money for me to go to college, and my grades were just below the required level of receiving scholarships. Of course, I could have gotten grants of some type, if I wanted to get technical, but I really didn’t want to do anything other than work on vehicles. I loved taking things apart and putting them back together as did Ray. She tried her damnedest to get me to enroll in electrical engineering with her, saying it was basically like being a mechanic to machines. The thing was, I didn’t want to work on high-tech shit, I liked the simplicity of cars and trucks. With them, there weren’t as many surprises. They all needed their oil and tires changed eventually, and for me, that meant money in my pocket. Well, that was excluding the newer models of electronic cars, those things were foreign to me. I didn’t know the first damn thing about them, but lucky for me, most people who lived around here couldn’t afford them. If they could, they sure as shit didn’t bring them to my shop.
The shop was actually how Ghoul and I met. He rolled up in a mint condition 1969 Pontiac Trans Am, and man, fuck, that thing was sexy. I whistled when he stepped out of it, which earned a very warranted concerning look from him. The whistle was for the car, not him. “Did you wash that motherfucker in a fresh coat of paint?” I said laughing. “That sweet ass car can’t need much. What can we do for you today?”
“Nothing today,” he said. “Just wanted to see that I’d be welcome when I did.”
I smiled and threw him a business card. “Pal, you could fuck my old lady in my own house, and I’d still take care of that ride.” He laughed and shook my hand, and we’d been friends ever since.
Immediately, a new Buick in the nearby driveway caught my attention. Without question, it was Ray’s. While I hadn’t asked much about her, Wren liked to drop hints and keep me updated on the little things in Ray’s life. Fuck! She wasn’t in Kentucky as I had stupidly predicted. To make shitty beginnings worse, I hadn’t fully thought out the plan of buying doughnuts instead of a fucking sealed box of chocolates. They were all smushed together, and a big part of the glaze was at the bottom of the bag. Saddlebags weren’t exactly designed to hold a box of doughnuts.
“Fuck me,” I complained a little too loud and wiped the glaze off my fingers and onto my blue jeans.
“Logan Williams, I will not do such a thing,” a familiar voice answered, and I jumped at the sound.
“Mrs. Flowers? Damn it, sweetheart, I didn’t know you were still alive,” I joked, recognizing the calming tone that flooded a large number of memories from my youth.
“Don’t act like you didn’t see me just last Tuesday. You know damn well where I live, and if you came around more, you would know I hadn’t keeled over yet.” She tipped her nose downward and glared at me over her bifocals. “You used to like us.” She released the screen door from her hand, and it clattered against the wooden door frame.
“Still do.”
“Poor way of showing it,” she called me on my shit, both of us knowing I hadn’t visited here in quite a while. It was too easy to go on with your daily life and forget those who you didn’t see on a daily basis. It was something people rarely gave thought to, unless of course in situations such as this.
“You’re right. I’m a shit, but I’m your shit, and the only shit that you’ll laugh and smile at when you step on it.” I smiled meeting her at the bottom of her steps. “Doughnut?”
“We both know those aren’t for me, but I’m going to take one anyway.”
“Go ahead.”
She grabbed one and nudged her head toward the house across the field…Ray’s house. “Now, go on. Take that girl some happiness. She could use it.”
I wanted to argue with her, but just like any other time, there wasn’t any point. Mrs. Flowers always had called me on my shit, and truthfully, it was refreshing to see that fact hadn’t changed. In a world that was constantly altering every second, it was nice to know some things remained untouched.
I was nervous as fuck at the possibility of seeing Ray. It’d been years and much had changed, but in the same measure, not a lot had. I was balls deep in the club; it was my life. I didn’t make any decision without keeping my brothers in mind. The thing that hadn’t been altered too much was
that I still thought of her. I wasn’t sure if that meant I missed her, or just the idea of having someone by my side. I guess now was as good of a time as any to find out that answer. The only thing I was convinced about was that I picked the wrong time to quit smoking cigarettes cold turkey. I never half-assed anything, and when I decided to do something, I was all in. Now, I wish I hadn’t done it that way. I regretted it, that was for damn sure.
8
Crow
I practiced what I would say to her as I paced back and forth on their porch. This shouldn’t be this damn hard. We didn’t owe anything to each other, but for some reason, I felt the need to explain to her why I quit calling. I didn’t have a reason; we both were guilty of that and traveling to see each other. Society might say I regretted it, but what the hell did those assholes know anyway? Those shits used to think the world was flat, plus, I didn’t owe them anything either. Fuck! This was stupid. I could bag a club skank and not once had my confidence faltered like it did with Ray.
“Fuck,” a female voice shouted, and the bushes at the corner of the porch shook.
“Ray?”
“Yeah?”
“What the fuck are you doing in the bush?” I asked setting the box of doughnuts on the porch, something I couldn’t do at home because Bologna, my dog, would have tackled the shit as soon as it was out of my hands. Thankfully, Wren was keeping him for the time being. She always did during this time of year since he was too big to throw on the back of my Harley, and I wasn’t home enough to take care of him.
“Well, I…I’m stuck.”
I crept down the stairs and to the bush. This, I had to see for myself. She was drenched from head to toe, and somehow, a branch was strung through a belt loop of her jeans. A smile pulled at my lips, and before I knew it, my sides heaved with silent laughter. It didn’t take any time for the silence to find volume and my stomach to ache from how hard I was laughing. “How in the hell did you manage this?” I spat out in between chuckles, trying to catch my breath.
“Quit being a shit, Logan! Fucking help me,” she groused and tried to kick me with her left foot, but I wasn’t remotely close enough for her to do so. Hearing her say my name was a surreal moment. I’d missed her voice, and I wasn’t aware of it until this moment. I used to love it when she said my name, regardless of the emotion behind it.
“Logan, seriously!” She wiggled her ass. The bush shook, a few leaves falling on her face, and she glared at them and then me.
“Alright, fine. You don’t have to be a drama queen.” I snickered once more, grabbing the limb in both of my palms and snapping it to free her.
“We both know I’m not a drama queen.” She straightened her legs, brushing random leaves off her soaked clothes and pulled at her shirt that clung to her body. Now that I could actually see her, all of her, my mouth watered at the sight. She was the same girl I loved so many years ago, but the world had seasoned her into a beautiful woman. Her hair was long and brown the last time I saw her, but now, it was short and a pinkish-red color. I’d seen the color on a few women around the club and hated it, but on her, it was fucking sexy as hell. She had a little more ink than the last time we saw one another, and I didn’t know who her artist was, but damn, they had done an excellent job. Really, given the canvas, someone couldn’t fuck up a tattoo too much. Anything would look gorgeous on her skin.
“I’m not,” she whined, her deep brown eyes searing me with a storm of emotions.
“You’re not,” I mechanically repeated, my eyes glued to hers as I offered my hand to help her off the ground.
She sucked in a hesitant breath and chewed on the corner of her mouth as if trying to decide if she should accept my assistance or deny it. She slowly placed her palm in mine, and it was like fucking wildfire spread throughout my entire body. I don’t think I’d ever been so turned on by such a tiny gesture. Ray didn’t trust easily, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt, she wouldn’t put her faith in me ever again. I’d never been so happy to be wrong.
My dick throbbed with desire, and my balls ached with need. This was bad, and I couldn’t deny it, but I didn’t want it to stop either. I drank the fucking Kool-Aid her body offered me and was thirsty for more.
“So…what are you doing here?” Her eyes roamed over my face before flashing to our joined hands, and she jerked away from me, brushing her fingers through her hair.
“Why are you all wet?” I barely managed to say, and both of us froze. The exchange between us was excruciating. If she were anyone else, I would take her inside and fuck her brains out, but she wasn’t. She was her, and I was me. Too much history preceded today, and along with that came hurt feelings and unspoken words.
“Umm. So, how about those Browns?” She changed the subject as fast as she could and walked around the porch and up the stairs.
“I fucking hate sports.”
“I know. So do I.”
“Then why bring them up?” I probed and bent to pick up the box of doughnuts, opening the lid and pushing them in her direction. “Doughnut?”
“Why buy three glazed?” She immediately rebounded, grabbing one and lifting it to my mouth. I bit down on it, and she grabbed one for herself, taking a huge bite and then met my gaze. “Talking has never been our strong area, so let’s skip it.”
My eyebrows furrowed together, and just as I was about to protest, she spoke again, “Just for a little bit? From the look on your face and the amount of pacing you were doing, you hadn’t planned on seeing me any more than I did you. Let’s eat these and then we can talk. Okay?”
I slowly nodded and curled my tongue around the doughnut in my mouth—it almost dropped out—until we were inside and I set the box down to grab it.
“Okay.” I agreed, but really, I had no fucking clue what I had consented to do.
9
Ray
What in the actual fuck were we doing? This was awkward. Every time I wanted to walk away, my stupid mouth opened on its own again. When I wanted nothing more than to be alone, I invited him inside. When I went to change my clothes, I told him to find us something to drink. It was as if my body was on autopilot and my mouth was driving the whole damn thing, my brain and wants took a backseat on this ride.
I figured things would have changed given the amount of time that had passed since we last saw one another, but if anything, things had intensified for me. The moment I saw him, I hid in the bush. As I did, I was more than aware it was a childish response, but I wasn’t ready to see him. Not yet. The thing about life was, it didn’t matter if you were prepared, it just happened.
Logan was the same person I left seven years ago, yet, in the same measure, he was very different. His facial hair had grown, and he had a couple of new tattoos under his leather vest, but that wasn’t the first thing I noticed. The way he proudly carried his shoulders pinned back and the way he constantly looked around like a snake ready to strike was new. Logan had never been what one would consider a “free-spirit”, in fact, he was borderline OCD with certain things, but this wasn’t a part of that. The world had aged him, and honestly, I didn’t know how. I wanted to, though. This was the reason I didn’t want to see him because when it came to him, my curiosity was never-ending…among other things of course.
I finished the last piece of the third doughnut and sipped on the coffee Logan had made us, realizing the whole no conversation between us was coming to a head. It was a waiting game to see who broke first. We both used to be stubborn as hell, and I was sure that fact hadn’t waivered for either of us. It certainly hadn’t for me, otherwise, I wouldn’t keep stuffing sweets in my mouth to prevent us from talking. It was as if the moment I saw him standing on the porch, all rational thoughts escaped me. I reverted back to the girl who left him behind; somehow, it was like I was no longer a woman and like the past didn’t happen. It had, though. We’d both assessed our priorities, and we weren’t number one on each other’s list—that gutted me, and I knew it did him, too. Life was shitty like that. If it
weren’t for responsibilities, we would have gone on undamaged by the pressures of the world.
“You want another?” he asked, his interest piqued and his eyes wide. He recognized what I was doing: avoiding him. Of course, he did. I wished I wasn’t this transparent, but when you spend the majority of your life with someone, they figured you out, even down to the weirdest habits. This was one of mine; I hated talking about things when they didn’t have a resolution in sight. It was something he and I used to share, and based on the way he was shoving food in his mouth as fast as I was, he more than likely still felt the same. We were both problem solvers—it irked the shit out of me to fail in finding a solution. Perhaps that was the easiest way to describe what happened between the two of us; there wasn’t an easy answer. Hell, there wasn’t even a slightly difficult one to find, so we didn’t. We both gave enough to say we tried, but we didn’t, not really. I’d seen people who tried. They fought for what they had and refused to let it go, that wasn’t what we did.
Bad Like Me: Royal Bastards MC Ohio Chapter Page 5
