Page 42 of Rowdy & Kat

“Okay, my turn,” he said. “I used to listen to ‘Three Little Pigs’ by Green Jelly on repeat. It’s one of the worst songs ever recorded, but I loved it.”

“Is that a big band song?”

“No, baby, it’s an alt rock thing. Don’t listen to it. You’ll struggle to ride my dick afterward.”

Rather than harp on our embarrassing musical tastes, Rowdy and I decided to listen to big band songs and cuddle up on the couch. Soon, we’d share these moments in Little Memphis. I couldn’t quite picture his condo despite the pictures he showed me. The city felt overwhelming, and I wasn’t sure how I would take to living in a condo building.

However, Little Memphis was a town filled with people who already cared about Maria, the boys, and me. There was no going back. Rowdy’s home would soon be mine.

ROWDY

I felt more like myself as I rode to Little Memphis. The familiar rumble of my motorcycle awoke memories of my old life. Pax claimed I’d been immersed in Kat and Maria’s calm, feminine space for long enough to lose my edge.

Admittedly, I missed that calm as I arrived in Little Memphis to the sounds of construction and police sirens.

My condo at the Five Points Loft was my first real adult home. Rolling into the secured underground parking lot, I remembered how excited I had been to have a place of my own.

Each unit was owned by a person connected to the club. The few LM Jokers who lived here were original members and the kids of former Little Memphis Motorcycle Club members.

I parked in my open spot next to my truck. Each unit had two parking spots. I considered the guest spots located farther from the elevator. When Kat and Maria moved here, I’d need to park in the guest spots to ensure the better locations were left for their vehicles.

As I entered the elevator, I passed Tricky Curran. The tall, bearded ginger gave me a head nod. His father had been the president of the Little Memphis MC. My dad and uncle were his most loyal enforcers. I grew up viewing Joker Curran as an uncle. Though I considered Tricky a friend, I no longer trusted his judgment.

Taking the elevator to my fourth-floor condo, I figured something broke in Tricky when Clint started the Crimson Guard rather than join the LM Jokers. He had always looked up to my cousin. Tricky probably planned to make Clint his VP instead of Jagger.

But as soon as the Little Memphis Motorcycle Club was disbanded after Joker Curran’s gnarly accident, Clint was a man on a mission. He put together the Crimson Guard over a weekend, scooping up ninety percent of the offspring from the Little Memphis and Rawlins Heretics clubs.

As I strolled to my condo where Vanessa and Moe waited to unveil their hard work, I almost pitied Tricky. Not only had Clint ditched the LM Jokers, but so did everyone else. Tricky’s ego had clearly not recovered from the slight.

Opening my front door, I felt strange at how Goblin wasn’t around to welcome me home. The Chihuahua had spent time with Clint and Ivy before bunking at Lula’s place. Finally, he moved into the Sorority House, where Vanessa and Sabrina lived with many of the other foxes.

“We did a fantastic job,” Moe announced while dancing around in denim shorts, a white tank top, and red high heels. “I picked out the furniture, curtains, and rug. I supervised Farley, Benji, and Nine while they put together the cribs and dressing table.

“I chose the colors,” Vanessa said and opened the door to the second bedroom right off the area meant to be a dining room, but I had used to extend the family room seating area.

As Moe waved around like a model from “The Price is Right,” Vanessa explained the base walls were a buttery cream. One wall with a crib was a soft medium blue. The other crib wall was a hazy green. On the dark hardwood floor was a colorful rug with shapes in blue, green, and orange.

“I tried to mimic the color scheme at the twins’ townhome,” Vanessa explained excitedly. “What do you think?”

“It’s perfect,” I said and tugged my sister into my arms while Moe ran away from my affection. “The colors feel right for kids without being obnoxious.”

“I call it gently masculine,” Vanessa said and hugged me tightly. “My nephews need to grow up to be softly tough like their dad.”

“They’ll grow up to be a pussy, you mean,” Rock taunted, having snuck into the condo while Moe was fleeing.

My club VP entered the bedroom and looked around. “This isn’t very kid-friendly. Is your baby mama into weird shit? God, am I going to have to listen to her talk about her boring hobbies?”

“Kat and Maria have an entire crafts room at their place,” I mocked and pointed in his face. “I hope they bore you to fucking death with their tales of painting, pottery, and other p-related hobbies.”

Rock took the bait and glared at me. We had been dancing this bitchy tango for years. Fucking with him was one of my favorite hobbies!

“I can’t believe you knocked up this chick,” Rock snarled. “You’re nearly thirty. Why the fuck don’t you know to wrap up your tiny dick?”

“Of course, a heartless dipshit like you wouldn’t understand how a man can care about a woman so much that he wants to feel her pussy free of barriers. What a big fucking dum-dum you are.”

“I think you said romantic stuff,” Vanessa cooed at me. “I want to babysit the boys as soon as they visit.”

Rock ignored Vanessa’s praise and asked, “Where’s the other sister going to live?”