The murmur of my brothers’ voices washes over me as I continue to sit there in silence. In my mind’s eye, I flash back to the last time I saw Jenna. It’s almost five years ago now. Hard to believe.

Jenna came back to Tanner Springs for the summer at the end of her freshman year at the university. Somehow, even though Jenna has always been smart as hell, she’d managed to flunk out of college. She came back to town with her tail between her legs, swallowing her pride to face up to her father’s wrath.

It was funny: Jenna had never been much of a wild thing when she was younger, but that summer she seemed completely changed. She spent a hell of a lot of nights partying with whichever group of friends she happened to be out with, and because of that, our paths crossed more than a few times.

Looking back on it now, it was probably inevitable that we were going to hook up eventually. Jenna and I had been circling around each other for years, truth be told. By then, I’d been around the block with enough girls that I could usually tell by just a glance when one of them was waiting for me to make a move. With Jenna, it was a little tougher, but I’d catch a little flicker of something in her eye, or see the way her lips parted when she knew I was looking at her. She had the most fuckable goddamn mouth I had ever seen. When she was around, all I could think about was what it would feel like to have those full, pouty lips wrapped around my cock. And judging from the way she looked at me, I was pretty sure she was willing.

I wasn’t wrong.

I ran into her one night at a big-ass bonfire someone had set up at an abandoned farmhouse outside of town. It was the end of August — way too hot for a bonfire — and the night had one of those end-of-summer blowout feels to it. I knew from Gabe that Jenna had pulled her shit and her money together over the summer and managed to get herself enrolled at a community college about an hour away, to try to make up the credits she’d lost by failing out at the state university. That night, she acted like she was looking for a last hurrah, as well.

Normally, Jenna didn’t drink all that much when she partied — though she would dance with a wild abandon you couldn’t help but admire — but she seemed like she was a couple beers in when she strode up to me in the dark with a saucy smirk on her face and a challenge in her eye.

“Haven’t seen you around much these past few weeks, Cas Watkins.” Her chin lifted toward me, her mouth slightly open in that tempting pout that always made me want to pull her lips down onto my waiting cock.

It was true, I hadn’t been around much. I’d stopped going to as many parties with the townies I’d gone to high school with. I’d recently begun prospecting with the Lords of Carnage, and the club was taking up a lot of my time.

“I didn’t figure you’d notice,” I drawled back at her, curving my lips into a lazy grin that I knew from experience drove girls wild.

Jenna blushed, but the alcohol made her bold. “I’m leaving town tomorrow.” Glancing over toward where all our vehicles were parked, she added, “How about taking me for a ride on that motorcycle of yours?”

It was my first bike, an old but serviceable Harley that I’d gotten for free from one of my uncles who wanted to get it out of his garage.

“You sure you’re in shape to take a ride?” I teased her, nodding toward the beer.

“This is only my second one,” she protested, holding it up to show me. “And besides. I won’t be the one driving.” Jenna took a step toward me, until she was close enough that I could smell the faint perfume of her shampoo. “I trust you,” she said softly.

I was used to girls throwing themselves at me — even flat-out propositioning me — but with Jenna it kind of threw me for a loop. I’d spent so much mental energy keeping a wall up between me and her because of her brother that having it knocked down like that knocked me off my guard a bit. My cock jumped in my pants as I imagined how it would feel to have her body tight against my back as we rode.

“You ever been on a bike before?” I asked her.

“No,” she breathed, looking into my eyes. Suddenly, it somehow felt like we were talking about something else. “But you know what to do. You’ll teach me.”

I put her on the back of my bike and took her out into the country, driving just fast enough that she clung to me and pressed her breasts against my back as we rode. My cock was like a fucking iron rod the whole time, and by the time we arrived at the lot with the old motor home a distant cousin of mine used as a hunting cabin sometimes, any final resolve I was hanging onto had melted away into the night.

I broke the lock on the motor home, pulled Jenna inside, and took her once, then twice, the two of us writhing and clutching at each other until we were both drenched with sweat and exhausted. Eventually, we fell asleep, with her in my arms, and didn’t wake up again until right before dawn. I took her once more before we left, then drove her back to town. I dropped her off a block away from her house, and she kissed me deep and long before dashing off through a neighbor’s yard toward her back door.

The next day, she caught holy hell from her dad about staying out all night. I heard about it from Angel, who of course had no idea that it was me she’d been out with, or what she’d been doing. To this day, I’ve never told him. And I don’t plan to. It was maybe the best night and the best sex I’ve ever had in my life — the culmination of years of pent-up feelings and desires. But both Jenna and I knew it was a bad idea. A mistake. Even though it felt better than any other mistake I’ve ever made, before or since.

Sarge’s bark of laughter as one of the brothers tells a joke brings me out of my reverie. With a start, I glance over at Jenna’s booth to see that she’s paid her bill and is standing up. She holds out her hand, and the little boy takes it. Together, the two of them walk out the door. My throat constricts a little as I watch them leave. I’m not sure why.

I should have said hello, I think. Well, fuck it. I’ll wait for the right time, whenever that might be.

* * *

Back at the clubhouse, I can't stop thinking about Jenna. I’m hanging out at one of the low top tables with Angel, playing Texas Hold’em and drinking beer. Jewel’s still out with her fucked up hand, so one of the prospects is behind the bar, looking kind of harried.

“The board gives me a straight flush,” I announce, laying my cards out on the table.

“Goddamn,” Angel swears, throwing his hand down in disgust. “That’s the third hand in a row you’ve won.”

“You sure you don’t wanna play with one of the prospects?” I kid him. “Up your chances?”

“Fuck off,” Angel tosses back. He moves to grab up the deck when Rock’s voice explodes toward us from over near the bar.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” Rock yells. “How hard can it be to make a Red Rooster? It’s just fucking beer and tomato juice!” He flings the glass he’s drinking from toward the floor, emptying its contents with a splash, then slams the mug back down on the bar so loud the prospect jumps a mile high.

Angel snorts. “I don’t know how he can drink that shit,” he mutters.

“Just give me a goddamn beer!” Rock bites out. The shaking prospects reaches for the empty glass, and Rock explodes again. “Give me a fucking clean glass!”

“Holy hell,” I chuckle. “That prospect must be pissing himself.” I’m guessing some of this is just for show, to test the prospect’s mettle. But Rock is definitely particular about his drinks.

And then, as Angel and I are chuckling at the show in front of us, the germ of an idea takes hold in my brain.

“Hey,” I say, leaning over. “Didn’t you say your sister was a bartender in the city?"

“Yeah,” Angel replies absently, and then his face transforms into a frown. “Wait. Are you seriously suggesting my sister should be a club girl?” His fist tightens around his beer bottle.

“Fuck, brother, not a club girl,” I laugh, spreading my hands. “A bartender. Hey, you said she needs a job. And she's your sister. Nobody here will touch her."