Not text one goddamn text from Paige in three days. She hasn’t said a word to me. Nothing further has been discussed about the Bartin twins using Havre and Bell for accounting and my co-workers continue to dwindle.

It’s Friday, and my job has remained, for Monday to be decided for me. I’ve reverted to my bitter attitude, especially when Megan started coming back around. She couldn’t handle a week away.

A. Single. Fucking. Week. Apart.

I’ll give her credit; she’s been cool about what went down last week. Claiming that we are only friends, Megan has kept her distance from my bedroom but has hung out with me and the guys twice so far this week.

I can handle that.

But there are no promises if she starts to play girlfriend again.

“You should come with us tonight.” I’m sitting at the breakfast bar, already nursing a beer when Jax wheels down the hallway, pulling a shirt on.

“Why?” I don’t even try to tilt my head as I down the rest of my beer. I don’t feel like moving.

Jax never gave up on the life he loved. He went from racing in motocross to promoting it through Double X, one of the top sponsors in the motocross world. His boss loves him so much he gave Jax a quad to ride around the races in when he is working.

Tonight, his company is having a huge bonfire out on Millcreek Canyon Road. He’s invited all of us—Levi, Megan, and myself. It is a massive party for riders, employees, friends, and fans of Double X and their riders.

“Come on, buddy.” He slaps me on the back because he can’t reach any higher. “It will be a blast. Jim is bringing in some trophy girls. Hell, I heard even some models were planning on coming.”

That’s just what I need; another woman to add to my troubling week.

“It wouldn’t be the same without you.” He sighs, and the distinguished squeak of his tires on the hardwood indicates his departure.

The beer in my bottle moves smoothly as I roll my wrist.

What else could I do tonight?

Sure, I could play something on one of the many gaming consoles we have, but what fun is it to play a game by myself?

“Fine.” Standing, I down the rest of my beer before dropping it into the waste bin and reluctantly go after Jax. “I’ll come.”

“Yes!” Jax thrusts a fist into the air. “Then let’s get going. Bangin’ Wagon is leaving. We still need to pick up the others.”

Grabbing my worn Fox hat, I pull it low over my eyes and follow him out. When I got home from work, I had changed into a pair of basketball shorts and a tank with the intent of going to work out. I never got that far. Once I opened the refrigerator to grab my water bottle and saw the beer sitting there, I grabbed one instead and stayed.

I’m not worried about changing for the party. And I really don’t give a shit. I’m going to get shitfaced, not rub elbows with anyone. I opt for the backseat, allowing me to have an open container.

And no, it isn’t legal, but after the fucktastic week I’ve had, I don’t give a shit. Jax wisely says nothing when he takes off in the direction of Levi’s place and then Megan’s.

“Is that what you are seriously wearing?” Lifting the bill of my cap, I find the annoyed glare of Megan. She’s dressed up as if she is going to gain male attention.

More power to ya, girly.

I just won’t be the one tapping your arse tonight.

My plan is perfectly clear; I’m going to ignore and stay clear of any female attention tonight. I’m not in the mood to even deal with the randomness of a blow job hookup.

“Yes.” Taking a massive pull of my beer, I turn my attention briefly to the mirror. “Is that what you are wearing?” I tip the new bottle at her, pointing a finger at her slut-wear.

You know the look girls, women, anyone who has a vagina over a dick gets when they realize what they are wearing? Yeah, the ‘oh, this old thing?’ look. She’s wearing it now. It’s annoying as fucking hell. I’ve seen almost every single piece of this woman’s clothing, and I can guarantee I’ve never seen this top or micro skirt before.

“Just something I dug out of my closet.” She looks back at me. “Why didn’t you at least put on a nice pair of jeans and top?”

“Because I don’t give a shit.” Looking back out the window, I watch the city view slowly disappear as we get closer to our destination. “I’m going to drink, not find someone to fuck.” I don’t care if my words are brash; they are the truth.

“So? You could at least look presentable.” She crosses her arms, trying her best to shove her tiny tits up more.

“And you seem to confuse me with someone who actually gives a flying fuck.” This is why I can’t be friends with women. They care far too much about what others think of them and their friends.

“Quit being an asshole, Axle.”

“And quit being a picky bitch, Megan.”

Yes, I went there. I did the one thing that pisses off any woman in an instant. By calling her a bitch, I might as well get my death certificate signed now.

Only if Megan was the vengeful sort, though.

She’s not.

Commence the cold shoulder in …

Three.

Two.

One.

She turns away from me, focusing on anything outside her own window while tightening her arms around her and biting her lip to keep from yelling at me.

Levi and Jax remain silent, wisely not jumping down my throat or putting Megan in her place.

Why did we bring her again?

The party is in full swing by the time we arrive. Mega speakers in the back of a couple of trucks amplify the loud music, and the flames of a massive bonfire illuminate the party, making it look as if the party goers are nightmares dancing through some poor cunt’s slumber.

“Fuck, yes.” Muttering to myself, I climb out of the van and make my way, without my friends, to the alcohol. I may not remember half of the night in the morning, but I know I won’t be getting sick anytime soon.

I meander, drink, and chat with a few riders I knew from back in the day. Most people who knew me then are wise enough not to bring up the past; the younger riders who know all about me, not so much. My jaw usually sets as I try to keep my temper in check until I tell them to fuck off or just walk away.

Tonight, everyone is far more interested in getting shitfaced than in talking about what could have been. I know what I could have had; I don’t need a reminder.

I walk around the fire pit a few times, spotting Megan dancing with a bunch of other slutty dressed women and the men who are watching them and then finally find Levi and Jax. Levi is busy playing tonsil hockey with a legging rainbow hair girl while Jax isn’t doing much but watching them.

“Nice party, right?” I take a spot, standing next to him, and join him in watching our whore of a friend. Most days, I wouldn’t mind doing the same, but I’m over women at the moment.

“Yep.” Looking down at my cup, I swirl the liquor in it. “Where’s your boss?”

“Oh, Jim?” Jax finally looks up at me, breaking his creeper contact with Levi and the woman. “He rarely comes to these things.”

“Then why have a party?” I down the rest of my drink and quickly look around for something to fill my cup with.

“He’s been working on a deal with the Bartin twins, and this is his way of celebrating.”

Curse my friend. He just had to bring up that surname.

Fucking fantastic.

“Parker and Paige?” I really need another drink now. “What sort of deal?”

You may be wondering what kind of hell I enjoy. I’m a masochist. It’s horrible, but I can’t control it. Much like an out of control roller coaster, I’m always on the ride of my life; the highs and the lows.

“Double X is one of their sponsors, you know?” I nod even though I didn’t know. Shit, I know them financially pretty well. And carnally know Paige to an extent. “Jim and the twins have been working on a program to give underprivileged kids the opportunity to learn to ride.”

“That’s awesome.” I had my dad teach me, and I taught myself a lot of what I know now. But for other kids, I’m sure a program like that would be amazing.

“Apparently, a program like that was formed years ago. It was run by the city government, and that’s what gave Parker and then Paige the chance to learn to ride.”

Really?

I’m intrigued now; a small look into the life of Paige Bartin. I’m like a fat kid at camp who eats all the sweets before anyone else gets the opportunity. I’m greedy.

“Really?” Yes, my voice went up an octave like one of my balls was just lopped off.

Do I care?

No, no, I don’t.

Releasing an exacerbated sigh, Jax shakes his head. “Ax—”

“Dance with me!” An annoying and slightly intoxicated giggle bubbles around us, and I look to find Megan dragging some poor fool out to where everyone else is dancing.

“It’s more like dry humping, and baby, I’m game for that.” I know that voice and the black leather jacket. You know him too. Parker’s sex-romped hair barely moves as Megan leads him to dance.

“Whatever you say, handsome.” She’s drunk. Has to be. That’s the only reason she would entertain any idea with a guy like Parker.

Now, wait a minute.

You think Parker and I aren’t different, don’t you? We are both man-whores; spend too much time in the company of random women and in their beds. Well, you are right to a point. I do sleep around like him.

But—and it’s a big but—we are different. I’m not a tool. I don’t pretend to give a shit. Every woman I hook up with, aside from Megan, knows not to expect anything from me after our night together. I’m positive Parker is the bad boy all the girls he hooks up with think they can change or at least think will want more only to find out in the morning what kind of guy he truly is.

We are different.

End of story.

“Well, that’s interesting.” Jax laughs, actually laughs at the poor fool’s mistake.

“You should just ignore that hot mess.” I zap out of my intoxicated state with the smooth voice I haven’t heard in a few days.