by Elias Taylor
“Hey,” he said.
She smiled in greeting and walked over to him.
“I haven’t seen you in ages,” Tristen said.
Kayla was one of the best bikers in the club, as she should be given it ran in her blood. Both her parents were long-time members. Despite this, she rarely made an appearance at events or rides. She and Tristen were acquaintances through the club, and Tristen liked her because she usually laughed at his dumb jokes.
And the fact that she was gorgeous didn’t hurt. He noted that she was looking especially good in a fitted black jeans that hugged her curves and a leather jacket. Her bright red lipstick was the perfect pop of color.
“I’ve been busy with work,” Kayla said.
“At that accounting firm, right?” Tristen asked.
“Yeah,” Kayla said. “Brentwood.”
“I actually saw a favorable article about Brentwood in a projections report,” Tristen said.
“We’ve been doing well,” Kayla said.
She smiled with obvious pride. Tristen admired how intense she was about her career.
“I guess this makes me the only guy in this biker club to utter the phrase ‘projections report,’” Tristen said.
Kayla tipped back her head and laughed. She had a nice laugh, Tristen mused. It was deep and husky.
“Then congratulations are in order,” Kayla said. “This is a momentous occasion.”
“Thank you, thank you so much,” Tristen said. “I’m overwhelmed.”
He put one hand over his heart and mimed accepting an award. Kayla pressed her fingers to her lips as if to stop the giggles from pouring out.
Yes. Kayla Carpenter definitely had an amazing laugh.
“You here alone tonight?” Tristen asked.
“My parents are around,” Kayla said. “I should probably go find them once I track down something to drink as well, I’m parched.”
“There’s beer over here,” Tristen said.
“Nah, I’m not really a beer person,” Kayla said.
“A biker chick who doesn’t like beer?” Tristen said with an over-dramatic gasp. “How scandalous.”
Kayla burst into another peel of laughter that sent rivers of warmth cascading through Tristen’s stomach. He was ready to tell as many corny jokes as possible, as long as he could keep witnessing the way her nose scrunched up and her dark eyes glimmered when she laughed.
“I know, I’m an eternal disappointment to the biker community,” Kayla said.
She started to move towards the crowd after giving Tristen one last smile.
“Maybe I’ll see you later,” Tristen said.
“Maybe,” Kayla said.
Tristen doubted it. He watched Kayla’s slim figure weave between the other bikers as she made her way towards a table laden with drink options. She made a beeline right for the spiked punch bowl. Not a beer girl, she was going for something stronger.
She wouldn’t stay long at the event though. Kayla never did. She usually left with her parents and the other older members. Kayla was nice and smart and had a great sense of humor, but something was always holding her back from throwing herself into a party.
“Yo, Tristen!”
Tristen turned to see Brady, a fellow biker, along with a few other guys.
“Hey,” Tristen said.
“We’re about to get the bonfire started, wanna help?” Brady asked.
“Sure,” Tristen said.
He spent the next half hour arranging a pile of sticks and logs while Brady cursed over how he couldn’t get anything to catch on fire. The sun hadn’t even fully set, but Brady liked to get a headstart on the bonfire.
Every few minutes, Tristen kept glancing over at Kayla. She was clutching a cup of punch in her hand and chatting away, and Tristen couldn’t say for certain, but he was pretty sure it had been refilled.
By the time the bonfire was roaring, the older members had all gone, including Kayla’s parents. She was still in a crowd of guys, talking a mile a minute and drinking that punch like it was water.
It was a strange sight. In all the years he had crossed paths with Kayla Carpenter, he had never seen her do anything fun. She didn’t even go on the overnight rides.
And while she was attractive, Tristen had never heard of her ever dating a guy, biker or otherwise. There was no ill-will or tension, but rumor had it she was a bit of a workaholic. A biker chick by blood, but not the biker type when it came down to her personality.
As Tristen watched Kayla stumble a bit and grab onto the arm of the closest biker, a niggling thought pricked the back of his mind.
Did she even know that the punch was spiked? It was a potent blend, perfected over many biker events, and its danger was that the insane amounts of hard alcohol was nearly impossible to detect. The punch mostly just tasted like fruit juice.
Tristen shook his head. He was overthinking things. Everyone knew that punch was spiked. Or at least, everyone who stayed late at a party before knew.
Tristen sighed and turned back towards the fire. Kayla was entitled to let loose. She was an adult. Besides this wasn’t a random bar. This was a tight-knit biker club, and everyone knew Kayla and knew to watch out for their own. She might have to endure a bit of teasing for getting too drunk, but that was it.
For the next few hours, Tristen nursed a few beers and chatted with some old friends. When anyone asked about how work was going, Tristen gave vague answers. He didn’t want to see the looks of judgment if he were to confess to a friend the lengths he had gone to just to get a promotion. Some of the guys might pity him, but most of them would tease him forever if they found out that Tristen had invented a fake fiancée.
At an hour to midnight, Tristen wandered over to where the boombox was blaring, and a crowd of bikers were getting rowdy.
A twist of worry spiked his gut when he saw Kayla. She wasn’t just a little too tipsy anymore. She was wasted. She kept laughing too loud at whatever anyone said, and she was very unsteady on her feet.
The blare of the music as well as the flickering and smoke from the bonfire seemed to be disorienting her. And she continued to take huge gulps of the punch.
Tristen knew in his gut that she had been unaware of the alcohol. He just knew it.
A surge of anger coursed through him. Why hadn’t anyone else picked up on how much she was drinking? They all knew Kayla. If anyone had thought about it for five seconds, they would have realized that Kayla never drank or stayed late at these events, and her drunken state tonight was suspect.
Then again, maybe that was part of the problem. Everyone knew of Kayla, but she wasn’t super close with anyone in the club. They all just thought this was funny. Quiet and serious Kayla getting drunk was a laugh to them.
Tristen wondered if he should intervene. It wasn’t like he was the boss of Kayla, and she might get mad if he pulled her away.
Then again, Kayla was going to be upset no matter what the next morning, given the hangover she was guaranteed to wake up with.
Kayla whirled in an attempt to dance and ended up colliding with Tim, a biker who was about twenty-two. Tim was a few years younger and was thrilled to grab the beautiful Kayla Carpenter around the waist.
“Woops,” Kayla said.
Her stumble had sloshed half of her punch out of the cup.
“Lemme grab you some more,” Tim slurred.
Tristen gritted his teeth as Tim thrust another full cup into Kayla’s hand. Tim was an idiot and not sober himself. The guy was young, but he should know better. No matter what, Tristen was going to pass a word onto the club leaders to give Tim a talking to on the subject of endangering and taking advantage of women.
“Oh my god, I love this song!” Kayla shrieked.
Before Tristen knew it, Kayla had launched herself up onto the picnic table and started to dance to the pop song. Everyone else cheered and clapped.
She was actually a pretty good dancer. Something had happened to her jacket, so she was just in a cropped tank top
and her high-waisted jeans. Her hips swayed and writhed in sensual figure eights, and the firelight flickered over her bare shoulders.
Tim ogled her in open admiration, but Tristen rolled his eyes. Kayla had a great body, there was no doubt about that, but there was nothing exciting about a girl who was so drunk she had lost a part of herself. There was nothing wrong with dancing on tables, but Tristen knew it was something Kayla would never do. It wasn’t her style.
Kayla lurched for a moment, and Tristen panicked. He was certain she was about to fall off the table. Then she regained her balance and continued to dance.
It was time to put a stop to this. Tristen made a beeline for the table.
He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but he knew he needed to help out a friend.
Chapter Five: Juice
Kayla tasted fruit juice and smoke. And something else that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
She tipped her head back as she whirled atop the picnic table and marveled at the inky black of the sky.
She didn’t understand how it was dark already. She didn’t know when her parents had disappeared. It felt like only an hour had passed, but everyone was acting like it was so much later. The flickering from the bonfire was making her head spin.
And she didn’t know why she was so hot and thirsty. She had been heating up all night, and nothing seemed to help, no matter how much of the fruit juice she chugged.
In the very back of her mind, Kayla realized that maybe she wouldn’t feel so heated if she stopped dancing. But for some reason, that practical thought wasn’t having any actual effect on her actions.
At least she was having fun. Kayla couldn’t remember the last time she had gotten this excited about a song, or when she had ever danced with such reckless abandon.
She was aware of the crowd of bikers, many of whom she didn’t know very well, laughing and clapping, but Kayla didn’t care about them. At that moment, she only cared about how good it felt to let go of her over-analyzing and just feel the rhythm of a song.
Kayla shrieked and swung her hips back and forth in a dance move she didn’t even think she knew how to do. She swayed dangerously to one side and felt her body tipping, but right at the last minute, she found her balance and saved herself. Her dancing was very rusty if she was having this much trouble staying upright.
She turned and grinned. Right below her was Tristen Knox.
Handsome and funny, Kayla should have been avoiding him like the plague. He was way too charming to be good for her.
And yet, all Kayla wanted was to get closer to him.
To her delight, he reached up and tapped her knee.
“Hey, maybe hop down from there,” he said.
His tone was low and even, a stark contrast from the shrieks and guffaws coming from everyone else at the party.
“No,” Kayla said. She tossed Tristen a mischievous grin and pulled her leg away from his hand. “I like it up here!”
The song hit its final chorus, and Kayla threw her arms out and whirled in a dizzying circle. Her face was flushed all over, and one strap of her tank top was slipping down over her shoulder, but Kayla didn’t care. She felt amazing. She felt like the coolest girl at the party. She wondered if Tristen thought she was the coolest girl at the party, and the idea made her giggle.
When she completed the circle, she was looking down at Tristen. He was still there, gazing up at her.
“Why don’t you come up here and join me?” Kayla asked.
She tossed her long hair over one shoulder and gave him a sultry smile. She had no idea where her boldness was coming from, but she went with it. She even extended her hand towards Tristen.
“Come have some fun,” Kayla said.
Tristen took her hand, but he didn’t step up onto the table. Instead he tugged gently so she had to lean down towards him. Kayla crouched down. The song was ending anyway, but she was sure the next one would be just as good for dancing.
While Tristen edged closer towards her, Kayla grabbed her drink from where it sat on the edge of the table. She was so thirsty.
“Kayla,” Tristen whispered.
Kayla’s heart started to flutter. His mouth was mere inches from her cheek. It struck her that they had never been this close. Maybe Tristen was feeling just as bold as she was tonight.
Her glee waned at his next words.
“You’re drunk,” Tristen said. “I think you should come down now.”
Kayla scoffed and rolled her eyes. She tugged her hand out of his, but she remained crouching. Standing back up seemed a little daunting at the moment.
“You’re crazy, I am not drunk,” she hissed. “I haven’t had anything to drink.”
Even as she denied it, Kayla noticed the world was spinning. Her words came out slurred, no matter how much she tried to focus. She squinted down at her drink, then looked up in alarm at Tristen.
The edges of his mouth were twitching oddly. Kayla realized he was holding back a chuckle as he raised his eyebrows.
“What’s so funny?” Kayla asked.
Her voice didn’t even sound like her own. It sounded like the girls in the bar bathrooms at two in the morning, who needed their friends’ to hold their hair back for them. Panic started to rise in Kayla’s chest.
“That punch is for adults only,” Tristen said. “And you’ve been drinking it like water.”
“Oh my god,” Kayla whimpered.
Kayla felt a blush of embarrassment spread across her entire face. The reality of her situation dawned on her, and the truth made her sick to her stomach. Or rather, the hard liquor in the punch she had been chugging was making her stomach heave.
She was such an idiot. It wasn’t fruit juice in her cup, it was jungle juice. Strong jungle juice. Bikers didn’t make it any other way. Even though she never stayed late at these parties, Kayla should have known that. She was an adult. She was a twenty-five-year-old career woman, not a high school girl at her first party.
It had seriously tasted just like Kool-Aid. Why had Kayla not even questioned what was in it? It’s not like she lived under a rock. The sweeter and fruitier a drink, the easier it was to hide the liquor. She knew that.
She knew all that, and she had still thrown back cup after cup.
Kayla blanched as she tried to remember just how much she had consumed. Three cups? Four? Even more than that?
Kayla felt her eyes go bigger and bigger as she replayed the last few hours. Or what she could remember from the last few hours. She hadn’t lost all her inhibitions, alcohol had just blurred all her common sense.
She was up on a table, for crying out loud. How had she not suspect her judgment was impaired?
The other bikers were going to be talking about what an awful dancer Kayla was for weeks to come. Her parents might even hear about it.
Kayla wanted to cry. She didn’t know what to do next. She wanted water, but she had no idea where to get it. She supposed she had to get home, but she couldn’t drive. And she wouldn’t be able to show her face at another party. It was mortifying.
Alcohol made her stupid. She couldn’t even figure out how to get off the table without causing a scene. The faces of everyone except for Tristen were becoming blurry and out of focus.
Kayla wobbled and took a step, only for her foot to land on nothing but air. Kayla pinwheeled her arms and gasped as she started to fall off the table.
In the millisecond during her fall, Kayla accepted the fact that she was that girl. She was going to become the laughing stock of the party. For months, maybe even years, everyone in the biker club was going to talk about how Kayla Carpenter had made a fool of herself because she was too clueless to realize that the punch was spiked.
As she fell in her drunken state, Kayla figured the best she could hope for was to hit her head so she could be unconscious for the rest of this awful night.
Then her torso collided with Tristen’s wide chest. She felt his strong arms snake around her waist before guiding her gently to th
e ground.
Kayla blinked up at him. This was still embarrassing. But also, she would be lying if she were to say she had never thought what it would be like to be held by Tristen Knox. She knew nothing would ever happen between them, it was just an idle crush. And if she did want to pursue something with him, this would not be the ideal starting point.
Even so, she was glad it was him catching her and not one of the other biker guys. She would never be able to look Tristen in the eye after this scene, but at least she sort of trusted him. She knew him better than the other bikers anyway.
Too bad he was going to be steering clear from her for the foreseeable future. He was probably so turned off by her overdrinking. He was embarrassed for her, that’s why he had tried to get her off the table.
Kayla’s feet found the ground, but she was still unsteady. Tristen kept one arm around her shoulders. Kayla knew she should be ashamed at what a mess she was, but mostly she was grateful for his help.
Then she registered the flash of a camera. Kayla whipped her head around to look at Tim as he hooted with ecstasy.
“Yo, I got that whole fall on film!” Tim cried. “That was hilarious, I’m definitely posting this on my Instagram story.”
Tim held up his phone and started to replay a video for his buddies. Everyone crowded around and laughed. They were drunk too, Kayla realized. Their laughter wasn’t real, it was amplified by the alcohol.
The shadows from the fire flickered over Tim’s face, making him look like some villain in a children’s fairy tale.
In an instant, Kayla’s drunken stupor was momentarily drowned out by a wave of fury. She pushed Tristen’s arms aside and glared daggers at Tim.
“Delete that,” Kayla said. “Delete it now.”
She didn’t have the patience or the finesse to say please or try coaxing; she just knew that she needed that video to be erased from Tim’s phone.
Kayla had seen firsthand what a dubious social media presence could do to someone’s career. She had helped out during hiring season at the firm, and in this day and age, the Facebook and Instagram accounts were perused right after a resume. Companies wanted to make sure that the person they hired was sensible enough to keep private things off the internet. Anyone who was lackadaisical or sloppy on social media was not going to be a good accountant. Drunk photos or inappropriate outfits were a major red flag.
