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Sweet wasn’t a descriptor that had ever been used for our darling Bea. We’d met through mutual friends over a year ago and clicked for reasons still beyond me. She was a decade younger than me, snarled at strangers, had blue hair and a septum piercing, and worked in catering. On the surface, we had nothing in common, but the three of us had clicked. Our differences jibed, guaranteeing there was never a dull moment when we were together.
Before Bea and Shira, I’d never had girlfriends I could say anything to without worrying I’d be laughed out of the room.
I hadn’t told them about Jake, though. I had no fear of judgment. That wasn’t why I’d been reticent. It was that I was inexplicably possessive of our encounters. They belonged in that dark hotel room. If I spoke them aloud into the light, it would change how I viewed them.
Then yesterday, when Jake turned out to be Jake Hayes, heir to Motor Zone, everything changed.
“Okay.” Opening my eyes, I glanced back and forth between my friends. “I’m going to tell you everything. Let me get it all out before you ask questions, okay? I just need to say it.”
They both nodded in agreement, keeping quiet to show me they understood.
“A little over a year ago, I took my bike out on the road and ended up riding with a mixed pack out to Skyridge. I stopped there, got a room, and walked around a bit. There was this biker bar near my hotel, and something compelled me to go in. I guess…I wanted to see if anyone would look at me. It had been so long since I’d been looked at like a living, breathing woman I wanted to remember what it felt like. Then, a couple guys tried to buy me drinks, and I almost ran out of there. I didn’t, though. The same urge that had compelled me to enter the bar kept me glued to my seat. It didn’t take long for another guy to take the stool next to mine without asking if it was free. He got the bartender’s attention, ordered a beer, then looked at me and asked me what I was drinking.”
I shivered at the memory of experiencing the slow, sensual slide of Jake’s full attention for the first time, of his leg touching mine and not moving away. His eyes on me, never leaving.
“One beer. That’s all I drank with him before I stood up, held my hand out, and asked if he was in or out.”
Shira gasped.
Bea was grinning like a proud papa.
I covered my face with my hands. “I don’t know where I’d gotten that line or how I’d managed to actually say it, but Jake was in. We went to my room and”—I dropped my voice to barely above a whisper—“fucked all night. I have never done anything like what we did. I’ve never been touched that way or spoken to like that.”
“Like what?” Shira murmured.
My exhale came out in a whoosh. “Like he owned me. Like my body was the answer to every single one of his problems. Like he was grateful to be with me and had to make sure I understood that.” I shook my head. “I’ve never had a one-night stand, but I don’t think they’re supposed to be like that.”
“They’re not,” Bea assured me.
“He took me over and over. All night long. And in the morning, he was still sleeping, and I just…left.”
Shira blinked a few times. “You left?”
“I left. I thought that was it and didn’t want to ruin it with morning-after awkwardness. A couple months later, I got restless and took another ride, ending up back in the same bar. I didn’t think there was any chance he’d possibly show up, but an hour or so later, there he was.”
“Was it just as good?” Bea asked.
I scrunched up my face. “It was somehow better, which I wouldn’t have thought possible. We didn’t exchange numbers, though, so I thought for sure that was it.”
“But you got restless again?” Shira guessed.
“Two more times. We met up twice more, and each time was better. I almost asked for his number the last time, but I didn’t. I told myself I could have him if I left it to chance. I’m not dating, so I won’t pursue anyone. Jake was my exception.”
“Why are you using past tense? This sounds like the perfect setup,” Bea said.
I groaned. “It was. Until I ran into him in town. He lives here, and I had Nellie with me.”
“Oh no…” Shira sighed.
“Oh yes. But that isn’t the worst of it.”
Bea chuffed. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a terrible storyteller? Stop edging us, or I’ll lose interest out of spite.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “No you won’t, and Nellie says I’m the best storyteller ever.”
“That’s because she knows five people.” Bea wasn’t wrong. “Plus, she’s nice and doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.”
“Bea has no problem doing that, though,” Shira said with a little laugh.
