P-Nut

I sat in a wooden chair in the corner, slightly weathered from the 13-hour trip, half of which was in a torrential downpour.

She came out of the bathroom wearing a tee shirt and shorts. The occasional streaks of blonde that were woven through her brown hair gave hint that she’d spent time at the beach, but her pale skin told another story.

I’d always believed her to be attractive. Attractive, but off limits. After learning she wasn’t lesbian, the age difference between us was the only hurdle that remained.

With each passing day, it seemed the bar was being lowered. At the rate things were going, by the end of our trip, I’d be able to step over it without effort. The thought of it excited me.

And scared me to death.

“Sorry they only had a single room,” I said.

She flopped onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “Okay with me.”

“I just don’t want you to think--”

She turned her head to the side. “Stop it. I don’t think anything.”

“I was just saying--”

“Stop it. We’re both adults. Act like one.”

“You smart mouth little--”

“Little what?” She sat up. “Bitch?”

I started to respond, but she interrupted my thoughts.

“When you call me a sexy bitch? I like that. If you’re just going to call me a bitch, prepare to fight. I’m not going to let another man run over me. Not now. Not ever.”

Damn.

I raised my hands in a mocked surrender. “I wasn’t.”

“You weren’t what?”

“I wasn’t going to call you a bitch.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

I chuckled. “I’ve already been educated on the matter. If I use the word, it’ll only be affectionately. I was going to call you a smart mouth little shit.”

Her eyes fell to the bed. In an instant, she looked up. “I like that.”

“I’ll forewarn you,” I said. “I do dumb shit sometimes. But. I’m not a dumb person.”

“I’ve never thought that about you.”

“Okay.”

She flopped onto her back and gazed up at the ceiling. “I do dumb stuff, too.”

“It’s human nature.”

“I guess so.”

“Pretty impressive today,” I said.

She looked at me. “What was?”

“You were.”

Her brow wrinkled, and she sat up. “How’s that? I just sat there.”

The difference between barhopping and taking a trip on the open road is immeasurable. Many men think they want to be part of an MC, then quickly decide after they make the first road trip that they weren’t cut out to be a real biker.

Being a biker wasn’t for everyone, and it damned sure wasn’t easy. The ability to last on the open road for an entire day – through all kinds of weather – is what separated the men from the boys.

Smudge made a 13-hour trip that covered 850 miles without a single complaint. In my book, she was Ol’ Lady material for that reason alone.

I stood, and then turned to face her. “That’s my point.”

“I impressed you by sitting on the back of the bike?”

“Yep.”

“I would have guessed you for being a little tougher to impress,” she said. “I’m disappointed.”

“I’m not easily impressed, I can assure you of that. I don’t pay compliments where they’re not due, either. Most women would have thrown in the towel after an hour or two. Hell, a couple of times, you didn’t even get off to piss. Pretty impressive in my book.”

“Thank you.”

I gave a nod. “I’m going to shower.”

“Maybe most women like the thought of riding. Or, the thought of being a biker’s Ol’ Lady. I love being on the back of your bike. It’s hard to explain. It just…” She gazed aimlessly around the room, and then she looked at me. “It’s difficult to explain. Being there is like. It’s soul cleansing.”

She hit the nail on the head. It was soul cleansing.

I looked her over. If I simply set the age difference between us aside, she was perfect. I decided when the time was right that I was going to develop the courage to ask her on a proper date.

“My soul’s cleaner than a motherfucker, but my body’s covered with bugs and dirt. I’m going to take a shower.”

She patted the bed with her hand. “You know where I’ll be.”

I went to the bathroom, closed the door, and got undressed. After I shaved, I stood in front of the mirror, gazing blankly at my reflection.

The club described me as a lone wolf.

A recluse.

They were right. But, being a loner had its benefits.

Leaving on a whim.

Having no one or nothing to hold me back.

It also left me feeling empty at times.

Waiting had never been one of my strengths. It was time for me to tell Smudge how I felt, and see if she’d consider taking our friendship one step further. I wiped off my face and opened the bathroom door.

“So, I was thinking…”

Flat on her back with her hands behind her head, she gazed up at the ceiling.

I took a step toward her, and then paused. “You and I have a lot in common. We both like tinkering with bikes. We enjoy the freedom of being on the road. Hell, we could take road trips on the weekends and have one hell of a lot of fun. So, anyway. There’s this age thing between us. But. The more I think about it, nine years isn’t that much. Not really.”

I inhaled a lung full of courage and stepped to the end of the bed.

My heart sank at the sound of her light snoring. After admiring her for a moment, my mouth curled into a smile.

She was a beautiful woman.

And, there was always tomorrow.