Chapter 4
Zoey
I busted into Milo’s and began looking around. I was prepared to eat and drink alone tonight, but a part of me didn’t want to. I hadn’t come back home to sit alone in my parent’s house pathetically applying for jobs and hoping one called. I had come back to bond with my brother. To learn about his life. To help my parents and to make friends of my own volition. I looked around for my brother, trying to find him amongst the sea of people who were settling down in hushed tones.
But I couldn’t see him, or anyone else for that matter.
It didn’t shock me that I didn’t recognize anyone. Even if some of the guys were in here, I would have no idea what they looked like. I hadn’t seen most of them in years. Since before I had graduated high school. Colt shielded me from that lifestyle as much as he could, so I had only met some of them a handful of times. I used to think it was because he was ashamed of me. He didn’t want his geeky sister mingling with his cool ass friends.
I came to understand, however, that it was because he was trying to protect me.
I wasn’t ignorant. I knew what the life of a motorcycle gang entailed. It wasn’t glamorous like most people thought and it required a lot of slick work to fly underneath the radar. Illegal activities that lined their pockets with money and fall guys who willingly spent months-- sometimes years-- in jail for the club they gave their life to. Men in clubs like The Fallen Reapers traded solitude and normal lives for adrenaline, freedom, and lifelong bonds.
But that shit came with a price.
It always did.
After looking around the bar and not recognizing anyone, I scanned for a place to sit. I thought about leaving. Going back home and cooking dinner instead. I had purchased steaks and a head of broccoli as well as potatoes to make a creamy, whipped concoction of potatoes, sour cream, cheese, and bacon. It would be easy to throw together, and I could set plates aside for Mom and Dad.
But I could just as easily get to-go trays for them from here.
I decided to stay just in case my brother showed up. I hadn’t seen him at all since I’d gotten home and I got the distinct impression that he was avoiding me. Even though we patched things up over the years and even though he came to my graduation, it still felt like he was trying to erase me.
And if he didn’t want to come over to the house, then I would simply inhabit the places I knew he enjoyed until he showed up.
I found an empty place up at the bar that suited me just fine. People were staring at me. Men were raking their eyes up and down my body. And while most women would roll their eyes and scoff, I drank it all in. It reminded me of my job in college. Of the connections I made and the men I served and the protected atmosphere they created. Yes, they were dogs. Whistling at me and tapping me on the ass so I could secure a nicer tip. But if shit ever started in that bar, they were the first to jump to my rescue. The first to throw themselves in the line of fire to make sure I was okay. They worked hard, and they partied hard, but they defended those they cared for hard as well.
I never took it to heart. Especially when it lined my pockets with money that helped save up to help my parents.
I rolled my shoulders back and started for the bar, my eyes settling on the man I was going to be sitting beside. His frame was strong, and his hair was dark. It accented the sun-kissed element of his skin as he talked with the guys that sat beside him. They were all murmuring to one another as their eyes traveled my body. But his eyes were different.
His eyes stayed connected with mine. Never once dropped to my breasts or my ass or my thighs.
I sat down beside him, my eyes taking him in. His posture was unassuming. Unguarded in a way the rest of the guys weren’t. There was something familiar about the entire situation. There was something familiar behind the hazel eyes staring back at me. The bartender approached us and asked me for my order, peeling my attention away from the handsome man beside me.
If I weren’t so thirsty, I would’ve been annoyed at the intrusion.
“What’ll it be?” the bartender asked.
“Whatever beer’s on special,” I said.
“You didn’t strike me as a beer drinker,” the man said.
“Yeah? And what kind of drink did you think I would enjoy?” I asked.
I had his attention, and I wasn’t letting it go. I could hear my beer sliding towards me, and I reached out for it, clocking it in my peripheral as I caught it between my fingers. The man’s eyes fell to my hand as I brought the beer to my lips, his eyes following my every move as I tilted my head back.
I made a show of how easy it was for me to swallow the liquid down as the men behind him groaned.
“I don’t know. A fireball?” he asked.
Now his grin matched mine as I set my beer back down on the table.
“That a quip on my hair? Good one,” I said.
“I’ve got more if you’re interested.”
“Assume I am, Clever Boy,” I said.
“Boy?” I asked. “What makes you think I’m a boy?”
“Your charm.”
He was a fun one to play around with. And I was surprised at how attracted I was to him. The rough bad boy type had never been my thing, especially since Colt kept me shaded from that life. Even if it was my thing, I could never get within a mile of someone like that before my brother stepped in. He didn’t want to spend time with me and hang out, but he sure as hell was ready to come in between me and a piece of nice cock.
But now, Colt was nowhere to be found, and I was falling into the hazel embrace of the man sitting next to me. His legs were strong, and his chest was broad. His forearms were flushed with veins that were bulging for my viewing pleasure. I felt my body yearning for him. I felt the heat rising up my back and threatening to choke my air supply off. There was something that drew me to him. An invisible force that felt both erotic and recognizable.
I knew he had to be one of Colt’s friends, I just didn’t know from where. He wasn’t wearing a leather cut so he couldn’t be a part of The Fallen Reapers. But he looked familiar somehow.
The guys he was with had leather jackets, but they were tossed over the chairs they were sitting in. If they were leather cuts, I couldn’t see any names or logos on them. I pulled my eyes back to the man sitting next to me, his body now turned fully towards me as one of the men spoke up behind him.
“Hey, you guys wanna go shoot some pool?” someone asked.
“I’m in.”
“Get me a stick ready, I gotta piss.”
“Don’t get lost. Pretty sure our friend’s slumped against a wall or something.”
“Or found some chick to bang.”
“That, too,” the man with the hazel eyes said. “You guys go enjoy yourselves. I’ll be over in a bit.”
“Take your time,” someone said.
So there was another one of them. Interesting. But I knew what they were doing and they sure as hell were obvious about it. They wanted to give me and their new little friend some time by ourselves. Which I was grateful for. I hadn’t come out with the intention of finding someone to sink my teeth in, but I wasn’t going to deny myself the pleasure I was sure he could bring if he wanted it as much as I did.
His group got up and made their way into the other room as the two of us sat there, nursing our beers and staring at one another.
Most women would find interaction like this uncomfortable, but I didn’t. I enjoyed looking into the eyes of the men I wanted. It helped me to read their truthfulness in a situation. A man who was willing to open himself up to the idea of a woman reading him was a man worth screwing. It meant he wouldn’t play games. It meant he wouldn’t fuck around with my body. It meant he was willing to get down to business and treat me with the respect I deserved from him.
I never fucked around with men who couldn’t look me in the eye.
An easy silence descended upon us as I turned back towards the bar. The man with the beautiful hazel eyes followed my movements, turning himself back to the bar. I finished my drink and beckoned for another one as the bartender came over.
“The same? Or you wanna try something different?”
“The same. And could you bring me some chips and salsa as well?” I asked.
“You’re gonna want a different beer with those,” the bartender said. “The beer you’re drinking now will taste like shit.”
“Then bring me what you think will go well with chips and salsa, since that’s a thing now with drinks,” I said.
I rose my eyes and caught Mr. Hazel Eyes in the mirror that made up the wall behind the liquors. He was grinning as he tipped his beer up to his lips. I snickered and shook my head, suddenly feeling like a giggling school girl sitting next to my high school crush.
What was this man doing to me?
“You got a name?” the man asked.
“Zoey,” I said.
“Seems to be a common name around here,” he said.
“What’s yours?” I asked.
“Depends. Usually, people call me by my last name. At least, they did.”
“What would you prefer I call you, then?” I asked.
“Whatever your heart desires,” he said.
“Okay then, hot stuff.”
I winked at him in the mirror, and he smiled and shook his head. His smile lit up his eyes and exposed the cute little dimples in his cheeks. They were deep. So deep they cast the smallest shadow upon his features. Those dimples turned his rough, rugged face into a boyish beauty right in front of my eyes.
I used to know someone like that. Someone from very long ago.
“Everything okay?” the man asked.
“Yeah. Sorry. Just… thinking about someone,” I said.
“Ah. So you have a someone.”
“Nope. But your smile. When you smiled, you reminded me of someone I knew awhile back.”
“He a good someone?”
“What makes you think it’s a ‘he’?” I asked.
“With beautiful women like you, it’s always a ‘he.’”
“Down boy. There’s no competition here. Just some friendly flirting with some drinks and chips,” I said.
“Your chips aren’t-”
“Order up,” the bartender said as he slid the chips and salsa my way.
I turned my head and grinned at the hazel-eyed man as he shook his head.
“Used to work in a bar,” I said. “They’re all different, but they all operate off the same rhythm. The same pulsing vein.”
“You make a dive bar sound romantic,” he said.
“Just because the word ‘dive’ is in there doesn’t mean it can’t be.”
“You lookin’ for a bit of romance tonight?” he asked.
“Not really my thing. Gets in the way of what people really want.”
“And what is it you want?” the man asked.
I picked at a few chips before I drained the rest of my beer.
“To share my appetizer with you. Hungry, hot stuff?” I asked.
The man smiled at me and slid his chair closer, allowing his fingers to gravitate towards my food. I watched as he scooped some salsa onto his chip, then placed it in his mouth. His lips were pink. Twinged with life and pulsing with a need of its own as I watched him eat. We shared the appetizer together and nursed another beer, allowing the comfortable silence to settle between us.
Then, it was him who broke the silence.
“Has anyone ever told you that your hair matches your personality?”