CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A week later, Billie sat on one of the big sofas in the back area of the Flyers' club house, facing the TV.
She had a hot blond biker wannabe on her right, and a hot, dark biker wannabe on her left. She was showing Drew and Streak all the game hacks she knew for Elven Wars.
"Aww, man," Drew said admiringly as she sent a massive troll down in a blaze of fire and smoke, the sound effects of sizzling flesh and his horrid death groans thundering through their corner of the clubhouse, over the sounds of the ever-present music, which this evening was country-rock. "That is so fucking cool. Show me that again."
Billie bent his way. "This, this and that," she coached. They shared a grin of pure glee as another troll died a horrible death.
Then she pushed off the sofa and looked down at them. "I'm getting a soda, you guys want anything?" They both shook their heads.
It was five o'clock on a sunny Saturday afternoon, and the clubhouse was quiet, as most of the Flyer brothers were off doing something in the garage that abutted the north end of the club house, and the women were outside getting a barbecue together.
It was a family affair. Billie had invited Delia, but her new friend had declined with very real regret—in fact, Billie swore she'd seen tears in the woman's dark eyes—saying she had to go home for the weekend, for a birthday. She made Billie promise to invite her to another club barbecue. "I'd love to meet your sister, and all those hot biker boys!" she'd gushed, hand to her heart, making Billie laugh.
A pair of cute little blond boys were running in and out of the clubhouse, making motorcycle noises. A pre-teen boy and girl were following them, alternating between keeping an eye on the twins, and playing a game on one of their own phones.
Billie smiled—because if she did only one thing this evening, she swore she would keep a carefree smile plastered on her face—as she dodged them on her way to the bar, where she poured herself a Coke, and walked back to her two new buddies.
Then she stopped in her tracks as Streak spoke through a lull in the game. "Be careful, that's all I'm sayin'. Rocker has his eye on her, and you do not get in the way of the club veep."
Billie wanted to scream, and throw her drink on the floor, and tell him to butt out, because Rocker was about as interested in her as yesterday's newspaper.
Instead, she sashayed back to the sofa, with a special smile for Drew, and sat down, a little closer to him this time. "What'd I miss? Did you guys kill that dark warrior?"
Drew grinned at her, and handed over her controller. "No, so how about you show us how?"
"Why, I'd love to," she said. And did that.
A short time later, Sara, the statuesque blonde who was Stick Vanko's old lady, poked her head in the door. "Streak? Sorry to interrupt the maiming and killing, but would you please come and help Webb and Knife get the burgers and brats on the grill?"
Streak followed her outside, leaving Billie and Drew on the sofa. Drew smiled at her, and she smiled back.
"You don't need to worry about Rocker," she told him. "We had a thing, but it was just a weekend, that's all."
Then she blushed hotly. "Uh, if you care, that is."
He laughed quietly. "Yeah, I care. I like the way you kill trolls. It's hot."
They looked at each other and laughed, and she relaxed.
She could do this. She could be fun and casual and be with other guys.
And she did, smiling and having a good time even when the Flyers spilled back into the clubhouse and Drew went behind the bar to do his thing there.
She ate burgers and yummy salad and potato hot dish with Lesa and Kit. She had a beer with T-Bear, who hugged her and told her it was nice to see her looking cheerful, and with the silent but not unfriendly Moke.
She met some of the other old ladies, including Sara, whom she really liked—not to mention admired for being able to handle Pete's scary older brother, Stick.
And when Rocker and she happened to cross paths outside the bathrooms, she managed by incredible effort of will to hold onto her smile, which he returned, and then held out a hand, stopping her and tipping his head down to look into her face.
"Hey babe. Glad to see you. How've you been?"
Since he waited, she answered him. "Oh, just great. Thanks for asking." See? She could do this, pretend that nothing special had happened between them.
"Sorry I never made it by your place last weekend," he went on. "You all settled in again?"
"Oh, that's no problem. I'm sure you were busy." Busy screwing other women. Not that it was any of her business.
"Yeah." He tipped his head and smiled. "So, we good?"
"Sure," she chirped, her cheeks aching from the effort it took to smile back. "We're good."
He searched her face with his dark gaze and gave her a chin lift. "Glad to hear it. We had a good time, hate to spoil that by avoiding each other for the next year. This place ain't that big."
A good time, that's all she'd been to him. She'd been falling for him, and he'd been having 'a good time'. One of hundreds, from the sounds of it.
And no one to blame but herself.
"Ain't that the truth," she agreed, and even managed a little laugh. "See you around, huh?"
He gave her arm a gentle squeeze. Jeeze, could he not feel the sparks shooting from his touch, like a pulse of magic from an elf wand?
She jerked her arm from his grasp, tossed her hair back, and walked away into the women's bathroom, where she dodged two women she didn't know, young and attractive, who were fussing with their makeup at the mirror, and gossiping about one of the bikers from another chapter.
Billie walked into one of the stalls, where she did her business, and then just sat for a moment, staring at the door in front of her. 'See you around?' she repeated to herself under her breath. 'Big, hot, biker asshole.'
She jerked her jeans back up, then washed her hands and fluffed her hair up, freshened her lip gloss, and stalked back out into the club.
She slid onto an empty barstool at the far end of the bar and smiled at Drew, who smiled back. He really was cute, in a fledgling biker way.
"What'll you have to drink?" he asked her, leaning across the bar.
Billie shrugged. "Surprise me."
He laughed, and pulled a bottle of whiskey from under the bar. "How about Jack and Coke?"
"Sure," she agreed.
He poured her drink, and then stood smiling as she took a drink. Billie choked, her eyes going wide as whiskey burned down her throat.
"Oh, shit," he said quickly. "Too strong? You want some more Coke in that?"
She nodded quickly. He added more Coke, and handed it back, grinning at her. "How to impress a chick, right? Strangle her with whiskey."
They laughed together, until Pete moved behind the bar and called Drew to come and help him pull beers.
Billie sat and sipped her drink and watched. She could do this. Everything was fine. Just dandy in fact.
That is, until she saw Pete saying something to Drew that made Drew's smile disappear, his gaze darting to her and away again.
Then Rocker moved to the bar and joined the conversation, and Drew's cafe-au-lait skin turned a paler hue. He nodded again, and then avoided looking at Billie at all for the next ten minutes.
And it wasn't like he was that busy.
Billie slid off her stool and marched through the crowd, straight to Rocker, who now had a pool cue in his hand, ready to play a game with T-Bear and Stick Vanko. Rocker watched her come, his expression softening. Billie ignored the enticing look, setting her hands on her hips to glare at him.
"What the hell?" she demanded. "You don't want me, but now you're warning other guys away?"
He raised his brows at her. "What're you going off about now?"
"Right, pretend you don't know. I saw that thing with Drew," she snapped, waving a hand toward the bar. "You were warning him off, weren't you?"
His quizzical look went opaque, and he grabbed the chalk and started chalking his pool cue. "Not my business, babe. You fuck any guy you want, as many as you want. Look to your sister's man, he's the one looking out for you."
Billie took a half step back, hand to her middle, her breath squeezing as she absorbed this blow.
Movement caught her eye, and she saw T-Bear watching, his craggy face and blue eyes full of what looked like pity. Stick Vanko was leaning over the table, his back to her. He sent the cue ball racing over the felt with a smooth motion of his cue, and the balls broke with a clatter.
Billie turned, and hurried away, outside where it was at least dark. But, she ended up on the back patio at the same time as Lesa. The moment she saw her sister, Billie’s eyes filled with tears.
"Oh, honey, come here," Lesa crooned, giving her a warm hug. "Rocker again? I swear to God, I'm gonna ream that man's biker ass."
Billie sniffled and wiped her wet cheeks. "No, sis, you need to stay out of it. He's your friend, and Pete's friend. I just need to grow up, I guess. He's just not into me, and he never will be."
Lesa gave her a fierce scowl. "He's a dumbass. And it's a shitty deal. Why do these men have to be so darn hot and so annoying? I could just smack him upside the head for hurting you."
Billie shook her head. "No, Leese. I've had some time to think this past week. And what I realized is, I'm the only one to blame for my heartache—or whatever the heck it is. Rocker never made me any promises, and he didn't sweet-talk me into bed. He was just being himself—I'm the one who wanted more, so I convinced myself it could be more. But that's not true, so I just need to learn to live with it."
"Wow," Lesa breathed, her eyes holding a new respect. "That's really deep, honey. I'm proud of you for being so mature about this."
Billie swiped her face and tried to smile. "Thank you."
Lesa hugged her again. "Okay, enough adulting for now. Time for shots. We're gonna party, high style!"
Billie allowed Lesa to tow her into the club house, and over to the big table where Pete sat with some of the others.
Pete's face lit from within when he saw Lesa, and he stood, swinging her up against him for a kiss.
But seeing Rocker standing there watching, Billie veered away, toward the bar, where trays of shots sat waiting for anyone to choose.
T-Bear shoved in beside her there. "Man, you and Rock need to sort out whatever shit's between you," he rumbled, giving her the side-eye. "He's grumpy as an old grizzly in springtime, and you look like you been cryin' again. You two are putting a hex on the party mood here."
Billie's lip quivered with hurt. "You think I should leave?"
"No!" he said, waving one huge hand. "Just... I dunno. Stop lookin' like your dog died, or somethin'. Here, have a shot."
Billie did two shots and grabbed another one, turning away from the bar with a huge smile on her face. Lesa was right—enough adulting for one night. She was ready to have some fun.
"Let's party!" she shouted to Kit. The redhead was just walking to the bar, followed by two Flyers Billie hadn't seen before, one a silver fox and the other a Native American hottie. Whoa, these must be Kit's men.
Billie couldn't even manage one biker, and Kit had two? She downed the third shot. "Dance moves!" she yelled.
Two of the strippers were walking in just behind Kit and her men.
One of them was Candy, an attractive brunette with DD's she liked to show off in extremely low cut tops. She was so friendly she had introduced herself to Billie the moment they crossed paths, admired her hair and told her if she ever wanted a new career in dancing, to give Candy a call and she'd get her up on a stage just like that.
Now the busty brunette laughed and gave a full-body shimmy, which caused all her parts to move in separate directions. "You are so right, girlfriend. C'mon over here and we'll show you some moves."
Kit shook her head, her eyes wide. "Hey, Billie, why don't you come sit with us?"
"No," Billie hollered back, ignoring Kit's look of concern, and the quizzical looks from her two men. "It's time to move."
"I wanna drink," the other stripper, Suzy or Starr or something, said. "You girls shake it without me."
Billie skipped after Candy to the open space by the big screen. Her head was spinning, she felt loose and floaty, and she did not fucking care what anyone else thought of her. She was gonna have fun and do what she wanted to do.
The music changed to Jerrod Niemann's 'Lover, You Don't Treat Me No Good No More' and Candy struck a pose and crooked her finger, calling Billie to come and join her.
Billie hurried to her side, and one of the bikers let out a whoop, calling others to watch. Candy shook her bootie at the crowd, and Billie did the same.
"Slap that, baby!" Someone hollered.
Billie threw herself into the sinuous moves, shaking her booty and then her tits as close to Candie's practiced moves as she could.
It was fun, and the crowd hollered encouragement to take it off. Feeling mischievous and sexy, Billie slowly unbuttoned her shirt then pulled it open, to reveal the cami beneath.
A chorus of groans greeted this. "More, show us more! Show her how, Candy!"