Chapter 4
Quinn
I had walked into the Rusty Pelican with a big fat smile on my face, expecting to be greeted with open arms by people, or at least my father. What I found at the bar instead, was a place full of men whom I didn’t recognize.
I shouldn’t have been surprised though, I hadn’t been here in several years, perhaps last when I was a teenager. After I left Long Beach, my association with this place became even more estranged.
I had a pretty fair idea that all my dad’s friends were much older by now, and chances were that they didn’t hang around the bar that often anymore. Now when I walked in, I saw that the men here were younger, closer to my age, even though they were all wearing the same sort of leather jackets that my dad and his friends used to wear, with the same patch on their backs. I couldn’t see my dad around.
I weaved around the tables, looking to see if I could catch a familiar face. Nothing really had changed about the Rusty Pelican, it was still full of men with tattoos and beards and in leather jackets. There were still muscle cars and Harleys parked outside. My dad clearly entertained the same strain of crowd.
I shook my head as I sat down on a stool at the bar. That smile was creeping back up on my lips again. How did my dad, who ran a place like this, manage to buy a house in a neighborhood like ours? I had always had a feeling that my father was involved in more stuff than he would let on. But I had never really asked him about it. How had he managed to keep me apart from this aspect of his life? But the bar seemed to be doing as good as before. Men were playing pool, scantily clad women were serving drinks, the music was metal and grunge, and I bobbed my head, realizing that I had always quite enjoyed this music. Another one of my traits that had shocked all my college friends.
“Vodka on the rocks, please,” I said to the tattooed bartender, who was looking at me up and down. It was obvious that he didn’t know who I was, and I wasn’t surprised that I was attracting a lot of stares in a place like this. For everyone at the bar right now, I was just an ordinary girl, who had walked in and didn’t look like I belonged. I smiled to myself, wondering how shocked everyone here would be when they found out that I was the owner’s daughter.
My drink arrived, and I thanked and paid the man, before bringing the cold glass to my lips. This was the first time in my life that I had ordered a drink at my dad’s bar, and I was sitting here, drinking it! How surprised and stunned was he going to be when he saw me? I bit down on my lip and looked to the side.
Beside me was a man, who I had noticed earlier. I’d caught his eye when I was weaving around the tables and walking towards the bar. He had looked away then and was now talking to some other guys. They were loud and talkative, and I could sense that they were making jokes about women. I was aware that it was the kind of talk that went on in a place like this.
Something about this mystery man though, made me look at him again. He didn’t stand out in a place like this, although he would have turned a lot of heads in my neighborhood.
He was tall, with masculine broad shoulders and a wide chest. He was in a leather jacket too, and dark jeans. His hair was dark and shaggy, with some strands falling over his dark eyes. It added a boyish charm to him, despite his dark scruffy beard and muscular build.
I couldn’t stop myself from looking him over. He had strong muscular legs, and even through his jacket; I could sense that he had bulging biceps and a flat stomach hiding. I could see a tattoo creeping up his neck. He was a tough guy, a biker…not the kind of man I usually went for.
He was the kind of man that my dad and his friends would have looked like in their youth, and as much as I adored my father; I had just never thought that they were the kind of men for me. The handful of boyfriends I had till now; none of whom had been serious, had all been clean shaven, athletically built guys with good SATs. This guy, with his loud laugh and large hands, and the thick silver rings on his fingers; did not strike me as the kind of guy who had ever sat for any exams.
I gulped and looked away from him. I had a sudden image in my head, of his hands on my waist, his body pinning me to the wall behind the bar, his lips on my breasts while the bottles of alcohol and glasses came crashing down from the shelves.
I had to press my legs together because there was a throbbing in my core. I was fantasizing about this man standing right next to me, and I could feel my cheeks flushing. The back of my neck had grown hot.
I took a large sip of my vodka, hoping that the drink would settle my stomach and stop it from doing flips. Just one look at this guy beside me and my body was already doing somersaults. He wasn’t even the kind of guy I usually went for, he had barely even looked at me!
I tried to focus on my drink, to force myself to not look at him again. I couldn’t help it though, I chanced a look at him again, he was still talking to his friends. I watched his lips on the mouth of the beer bottle. I imagined those lips in between my legs, and I pressed my eyes close and looked away from him.
I felt like I was suddenly going insane!