Harlow

 

 

“Hello?” I yell into the apartment. I shuffle in clumsily, my arms heavy with shopping bags and two gallon jugs of milk that hang from my frostbitten fingers. “Is anybody home?”

As I step inside, I trigger a candy dish with a skeletal hand in the center. It reaches for me with a subtle whir of the tiny motor and a loud cackle from somewhere inside its mechanics. It’s about the thousandth Halloween decoration that’s yelled at me today, and I’m so over it I nearly knock the damn thing off the table to shut it up. Halloween is only a week away but it can’t come and go soon enough for me.

Footsteps come hurrying down the hall with long, determined strides. I smile when Duke appears; lanky and young, barely fourteen, with dark Devopblovic hair and his dad’s gorgeous blue eyes. I’ve never met the guy but I’ve seen pictures, and damn. The man is smokin’ hot. Duke is going to be a heartbreaker someday.

Nika had him when she was sleeping with the very charming son of the college dean. Nika was seventeen. Prince Charming was twenty-three. To avoid being prosecuted for statutory rape, he paid Nika off. She was young, dumb, and scared, so she took one lump sum and signed away the right to demand child support or anything else for Duke. I’ve heard different stories from different people on how big that lump was, but from the state of the apartment and how often Devo and I have to bail Nika out, I’d say it was never very much.

“Hey, Aunt Harley,” Duke greets me, immediately unhooking the milk jugs from my fingers.

I sigh with relief as I wiggle them back to life. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Where’s your mom?”

“Sleeping.”

I pinch my lips together as I follow him into the kitchen. “Have you seen her today?”

“I checked on her before I went to school and when I got home. She’s okay.”

She sleeps all day. All. Day.

She’s not okay.

“Alright, good.” I grunt as I hoist the groceries up onto the counter. I carried them from the truck, up three flights of stairs, and down the long corridor to the apartment. When I release them, my arms feel like Jell-O. Like they’re lighter than they should be, rising up at my sides from muscle memory. “Do you have a lot of homework?”

He shrugs, digging into one of the bags. “Not much. I have to read chapters in a book.”

“What book?”

“The Pigman.”

“Never heard of it.”

“It’s pretty good, I guess. Except the old guy dies.” Duke frowns as he stacks tuna cans in the cupboard. “That’s a bummer.”

“The classics are like that. Wait until you get to Wuthering Heights. That thing’s a real nut punch.”

“Did you have to read a lot when you were in school?”

“Uh, they definitely wanted me to,” I chuckle.

“But you didn’t want to?”

“I had a hard time with reading.”

“You didn’t like the books?”

“I didn’t like the letters,” I answer reluctantly. I swallow hard, eating my shame. “I have dyslexia. Do you know what that is?”

Duke shakes his head without a word, his eyes tight, and I wish I’d phrased that differently. Two years ago he lost both his grandparents to leukemia and angina. Boom. Boom. One month after the other, dead. Ever since then, he’s been terrified of disease. If you get a cold around the kid he’s waiting for you kick the bucket before the night is through.

“It’s not a big deal,” I tell him casually. “It’s like Ava’s autism. It’s a mental thing. It doesn’t mean we’re sick. It just means we see things different than other people. It was hard for me to learn to read. I’m still pretty slow at it, but I got better with practice. Lots and lots and lots of practice.”

“And you didn’t like practicing in school?”

“I hated it, but then I got a good tutor and it got easier.” I curl my lip up comically at him. “I still think reading blows, though.”

Duke laughs, his face lightening. He’s accepted that I will not die of dyslexia.

“Was Uncle Erik your tutor?”

I laugh hard, nearly doubling over. I’m breathless when I finally answer, “No. Jesus, no. Devo was not a tutor.”

“Why not?”

“Because Devo hated school. He barely went.”

“Did he graduate?”

“Just barely.”

“My mom didn’t.”

“No. She quit to have you, but that’s okay.” I grab his face between my hands, squeezing it affectionately. “You’re better than school.”

He laughs as he gently shakes his face free. “I think she should go back.”

“You do, huh?”

“Yeah. Maybe if… you know, if she goes back to school she might be able to get a job when she’s done. I bet it’d be easier.”

She could get a job now if she got her ass out of bed, I think bitterly, but I keep that shit to myself. That’s something for Devo and Nika to discuss. Again. That’s nothing for Duke to be worrying about.

“I think you’re right, Duke. That’s a good idea.”

He glows under the praise, unloading groceries with a renewed energy. I watch him with a little amazement. He’s the polar opposite of me at that age. Confident and driven, excited about life in ways I still can’t muster. I wonder if it’s the difference in our upbringing or is it just that Duke is better than I am? Even if Nika raised him the way my dad raised me, would Duke have turned out the way he is? Happy and helpful. Eager about everything, especially his Uncle Erik.

We both hear the roar of the motorcycle at the same time, but while I keep unloading groceries, Duke ditches me to run to the door. He leaves it open as he hurries to the stairs. The sound of the engine gets louder as the outside pours in. I hear Duke shout something down to the parking lot.

Down the hall, a door opens and shuts with a bang.

“Hey, Nika!” I shout to her.

“Harley,” she answers groggily. I hear her shuffle in behind me, going to the fridge. “Did you get the orange juice?”

“Yeah, it’s here.”

“I don’t see it.”

I yank it up out of the brown paper bag. “I haven’t unpacked it yet. You wanna help me?”

She takes the juice from me, shaking her head of long, dark hair. She’s older than Devo by eight years but when you see them side-by-side, they look almost the same age.

“I’m still waking up,” she complains. “Give me a few minutes.”

“I’ll be done by then. I gotta get back to the bar for my shift.”

“I heard a bike. Is Erik here?”

“Yeah. Duke ran out to get him.”

“Good. I need to talk to him.”

She’s going to ask him for money. Even as I stand here putting food in her kitchen, food I paid for, she’s going to hit her brother up for more.

Un-fucking-believable.

If I didn’t love Duke so much, I’d be done with Nika by now. I’m pretty sure Devo would be too.

Boots clomp their way up the stairs outside. I hear Duke talking excitedly, going on about his day and a soccer game he has coming up.

“They’re good, but we’re better,” he promises. “We can do everything better than Culver, right, Raw?”

“You got it, man,” Raw answers enthusiastically. “Harley! You in here?”

“Kitchen!” I call back.

“You about done?”

“Just about. Why?” I push my hair out of my eyes, turning to him. “What are you doing here?”

“We need the truck. We spotted it as we were driving by and swung in to see if we can snag it from you.”

“Who’s ‘we’ and how the hell am I going to get ho—”

My words die in my throat when I see Josh. He steps in behind Raw and Duke, his hands in his pockets, his arms looking huge under the long, tight sleeves of his black shirt. He smirks at me, cocky and slow. Sexy.

He’s been around constantly. Over the last month, he and Raw have become tight, working together when they have to and hanging out when they don’t. With his power off and his work tied to the club, he spends a lot of time in the bar at a far table pouring over his textbooks. When I’m at working, he’s always in my peripheral. I catch myself glancing at him more than I should, drawn in by the deep crease of concentration in his brow and the way he chews absently on the end of his pen. It’s hot in ways I haven’t quite figured out, but even if my mind doesn’t get it, my body does.

It took two days to get my keys back from him, and when I finally did, I thought that would be that. I’d get some distance from him and that song that sings in my veins whenever I see him, but I’m not that lucky. He’s everywhere all the time. Constant as the tide, wearing me down. Eroding my defenses.

“What’s up, Harlow?” he asks me now, quiet and unassuming.

“Her name is Harley,” Duke corrects. “Like the bike. And, Harley, he said I could call him Strat. Like the guitar.”

I smile at him mildly. “That’s really cool, D.”

“It’s short for Stratford.”

“I know.”

“How do you know?”

I gesture to Josh with the box of rice in my hand. “Josh and I went to school together. He was the tutor I told you about.”

Josh grins smugly. “You were talking about me?”

“We were talking about books and learning disabilities. You came about by accident.”

“Story of his life, right?” Nika jokes darkly, referencing the rumors about Josh’s parents.

I glare at her, about three seconds shy of coming at her hard. Raw sees it, immediately running interference.

“Can I get a glass of that?” Raw asks her, nodding to the juice.

Nika smiles at him as she goes for a glass. She looks for one on the top shelf on purpose, reaching high to elongate her body and show off her ass.

Raw leans against the opposite counter, drinking in the view.

He’s always had a thing for Nika. Even before Devo joined the Due, Raw had seen Nika around town. He had plans to fuck her at some point but then Devo became a brother and his sister went off limits hard. It’s a sore spot between Raw and Devo, one Raw likes to poke at now and then. Just for fun.

“Why do you guys need the truck?” I ask pointedly, pulling Raw out of his eye-fuck session with Nika.

“We’re heading to Culver to pick up some stuff for Angela,” Josh answers. “Can’t fit it on the back of the bike.”

“Yeah, not with him hugging my ass,” Raw agrees. He takes the glass Nika offers him, pounds the juice in one long gulp, and hands it back with a wink. “What about you, baby? You wanna go for a ride on a bike?”

“Not on a bike, no,” she answers meaningfully.

“I want a ride,” Duke insists.

I put my arms around his shoulders, hugging him from behind. “No, dude, you don’t. Not this kind of ride.”

I feel Duke shudder. “Gross.”

“I know.” I nod to Raw. “If you take the truck, I don’t have a ride out of here. Unless Nika wants to take me to work.”

“I can’t,” she answers immediately. “I have errands to run.”

“Like what?”

“I have shit, Harley. Jesus.”

I roll my eyes. “Whatever.”

“Strat will drive you,” Raw offers. “I need him to take my bike back to the club anyway.”

“Since when can Josh ride a bike?”

“Since Josh got a crash course last week,” Josh answers simply.

Raw snorts. “Literally. He nearly put my baby through the side of the trailer.”

“My trailer?”

“Fuck your trailer. I was worried about my bike.” Raw holds out his hand to me. “Can I get those keys? I gotta get moving if I’m gonna make it to Culver before the warehouse closes.”

I hand them over. “What are you picking up?”

“Farming shit.”

Marijuana shit.

“Got it. Okay.” I glance at Josh, my eyes immediately darting away when I find him watching me. “I don’t need a ride. I can walk. Thanks.”

Raw laughs. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“It’s a nice day. I could use the exercise.”

“It’ll take you over an hour to walk home.”

“That’s fine.”

“I thought you had to get to work,” Nika argues because she’s so helpful.

I sigh, nodding. “Yeah. I do.”

“Then ride back with Strat,” Raw tells me.

He’s eyeing me funny, trying to work out what my deal is. It’s better for everybody if he doesn’t work on it for too long.

I smile at Josh, warm and bright. Normal. “Try not to kill us both, okay?”

“I’ll do my best,” he vows.

I hug Duke goodbye, promising to be at his soccer game this weekend. Nika disappears back into the bedroom before I can say anything else to her, which is fine by me. Raw takes off with the truck, in a hurry to get to the warehouse.

And in a matter of minutes, Josh and I are alone.

“You’re getting pretty tight with Raw, aren’t you?” I ask as we walk down the stairs. We’re side by side, our arms brushing against each other with every step. Each contact is like a static shock, especially when his fingers graze mine.

“He’s a good hang. I like him.”

“Everybody does.”

Josh glances over his shoulder, checking to see that we’re alone. “Nika definitely does.”

“She wants to fuck him so bad. It kills him too because he can’t. He promised Devo he wouldn’t.”

“Sucks.”

“You’re not a brother in the club,” I remind him. “You could fuck her if you want.”

He chuckles. “Can I? You giving me permission?”

“You don’t need my permission. I’m just telling you what your options are.”

“I don’t want options, ‘Low,” he tells me deeply.

I don’t test him by asking what he wants. I know what he wants. He’s told me what he wants. He’s shown me what he wants. But he can’t have it, so he needs to drop it. He needs to get this year with the club over with, head off to MIT, and find a nice girl to knock out some babies with. That’s what I want. That’s what I’ve always wanted for him; more than me. More than Opal. More than the rumors and the bad blood that follow him like a shadow.

Josh is silent as he gets us settled on the bike. It’s weird to watch him throw his denim clad leg over the black leather and glistening chrome. Surreal to see his large hands gripping the handle bars, molding around them like they were made for him. His big body easily hoists the heavy bike up off the kick, the muscles in his arms standing out strongly under the thin material of his shirt. It’s like watching worlds collide, my past and present melding together in a sinuous, sexy blur that leaves my heart in my throat and my self-control laboriously heaving its last breath. Especially when I climb on behind him, the curve of the seat sending me forward against his back. My legs pressing tight to his ass. His thighs. It’s not a great way to be for us. It feels like tempting fate. It feels like a precursor to fucking, and suddenly I’m so aware of his body and mine that I worry my breathing has changed. I worry he can feel it; rapid and rising against his neck.

As the bike rumbles to life, I put my arms on his hips to steady myself.

He immediately takes my hands and pulls them forward, wrapping them around his waist. Forcing my chest into his back.

“I don’t want you falling off,” he mutters over the purr of the engine. “I doubt Devo would be happy with me if I broke you.”

He’s needling me. Looking for a reaction by bringing up Devo, but I decide not to give him one. Instead, I settle in on the bike and hold on tight as he pulls us out of the parking lot, out into traffic.

For someone who just got into riding, Josh is surprisingly smooth. There are only a couple of moments where I feel like we’re going to tip. Where I gasp, clinging to him tighter by instinct. Both times, he reaches down to put his hand on my thigh, steadying me. Reassuring me.

It makes me wonder if it’s not on purpose.

Riding with Josh feels different from riding with Devo. I’m a little more afraid. More alive. More aware of the air rushing around me, the road under me, and the body against me. I feel every shift in his weight. Every breath in his lungs. I spread my palms flat against his stomach, feeling it flinch and relax under my touch. I feel his breathing fall in sync with mine as we lean together. As we ride together.

We get back to the bar in one piece. There’s a scary, squirrely moment when we ride onto the loose gravel, my thighs tightening around him and my fingers digging into the rigged landscape of his abs. He corrects it quickly, though, and before I know it, we’re stopped. The engine is off. Josh is waiting for me to untangle myself from his body so one of us can open the locked gate leading to the back lot.

I pull my hands from his stomach, getting ready to dismount.

Josh stops me with one quiet question. “What were you wishing for?”

I freeze, unable to move. To breathe.

All I can do is remember.

“This is us,” he promised me. “This is the way it should be. Always.”

“I wish... I-I wish…”

“It doesn’t matter,” I whisper nervously.

“It does to me.”

I glance around the parking lot. There are quite a few cars for a Thursday evening, but very few bikes out back. Kill, Bear, and probably Angela are here. Devo is not. “We can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what?” He turns his head to the side, showing me his profile. “You can’t be real with me? It used to be I was the only one you were honest with. Now you’re lying to me every time you look at me.”

I sigh, letting my head fall against his back. It’s warm. Soft and rigid at the same time. “If I tell you, will you let it go? Will you leave me alone about it and the kiss and everything else?”

“Will you tell me the truth?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll try. That’s my truth. That’s as good as you’re gonna get.”

I lift my head, my eyes stinging in the cold air. My heart hot as fire in my chest.

“I was wishing I could stay there with you forever,” I tell him tightly, my throat clenching. I take a deep, shuddering breath. “I wished I could love you the way you should be loved. I wished I wasn’t so broken and shitty. I wished I was good enough for you. That’s what I wanted more than anything in the world. More than getting out of my dad’s house. I wanted—”

“Me,” he finishes for me, his voice thick with emotion. “You wanted me.”

“Desperately.”

He shakes his head, running his hand over his mouth. “Fuck, Harlow, you could have had me. You already did. Every fucking inch of me belonged to you. All you had to do was stay.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be sorry.”

“Then what do you want?”

He turns on the bike until he’s looking in my eyes. Until he can wrap one arm around my waist and hold me to him tightly. “You. I still. Want. You.”

He says the words slowly, punctuating each one with a tightening of his fingers on my hip. It’s possessive and nearly painful, but it sends a thrill through my body that I can hardly bare.

“Josh, I—”

“Harley?”

Josh releases me immediately. I practically fall off the bike in my rush to untangle myself from him. I’m on my feet in the gravel when Lila comes around the back corner of the bar.

She frowns at me, a cigarette burning brightly in her hand. “I thought I heard a bike pull up.”

“What’s up Lila?”

“I’ve been looking all over for you. Vanessa is out sick. Can you start your shift now? I’m totally swamped and Kill does not do good behind the bar. No one wants to talk to him.”

“Yeah, sure. I’m right behind you.”

She presses her hands together in a sign of prayer. “Thank you!” She pauses when she notices Josh on the bike, her eyes widening with surprise. “Isn’t that Raw’s bike?”

“He took the truck and sent me home on his bike with Josh,” I explain in a hurry.

Lila smiles. “Lookin’ good, Strat. We might make a biker out of you yet.”

Josh chuckles, deep and easy. “Show me where to sign.”

I frown at him as I hit the button to open the gate. He walks the bike in, lining it up perfectly with the others. I follow Lila to the backdoor without a word to Josh, but I can feel him watching me. I can feel a pull in my gut, in that place where we’re connected. Where my soul ends and his begins, tethered together.

Forever.