Chapter 1
2 Piece
Church…
“Brothers!” Prez booms out and peers around the table. “It seems we have a reptile problem. Apparently, my son, Brently, hooked up with some female named Seraphina. Guess this bitch is the sister to a brother in the Twisted Snakes MC. Once this clown found out who my son is, he started giving him shit about me. Now, not only are they harassing Brently, but they’re trying to sell in our fuckin’ territory. Y’all know what happened to the last little roach that tried selling in our territory.”
Everyone nods and replies, “Yes.”
“Cain, call up the Russian; see if he has dealings with them and what you can find out. It’d be nice if this could be handled easily and we don’t have to kill anyone this time,” he growls, irritated.
“Sure, Prez, no problem,” Cain replies, and Prez waves his hand to the side.
Cain gets up to go make that phone call. When Prez tells you something at the table and waves toward the door, it means ASAP, no fucking around.
Ever since Tate found out what was happening when we were in Tennessee, he’s been in charge of the Russian Mafia back there. I’m not sure what happened to his father, Gizya. Knowing the Mafia though, I’d say he’s floating in one of the many lakes around Knoxville. That is unless Tate and Viktor decided to show him some mercy and let him leave the business with his tail between his legs.
Sneaky old bastard tried to get the club hooked on his fucking drugs. If we were that spun out on drugs all the time, Prez would kick our asses out. We try to keep that kind of thing out of our area. The less of that shit around, then the fewer problems we have to deal with close to the club.
“Besides that, it’s business as usual, brothers. Stay out of jail, party, and enjoy the pussy.” He slams the gavel down and we are dismissed.
Our church is always short and straight to the point. Prez tells us to enjoy the pussy, but he rarely partakes in that luxury himself.
I’m not so much of a saint however. My dicks on a schedule and the club whores all know it. I’m not ashamed of the fact I’m a hoe myself. I’ve come to terms with it and have embraced it. I don’t do any fucking drama, and regular pussy is a must.
Cain’s sitting in the usual booth with a bottle of Jack and lemons. Reckon I’ll head over to join him. There’s nothing like a rich shot of that amber colored liquid after discussing business.
Cain’s a newer member to the club, but is fitting in well. He’ll probably become an Enforcer with Ares one day. Those two enjoy messing up some fools and fighting whenever they get wound up. We’ve become close friends since I found his ass out in Cali. Poor kid seemed a little lost.
That Cali trip was chill. I got to visit my younger sister, Sadie. I hadn’t seen her in six months. It felt good to catch up with her.
I feel like a shitty older brother letting us drift so far apart. We’ve always been close—physically and emotionally. I wish she’d just move around here so I can check on her more. She isn’t motivated to go anywhere yet, unfortunately.
I don’t understand why she stays; maybe there’s a man or something. I didn’t see anybody when I was there though and I stayed damn near two weeks. She’s my sister and I love her, but fuck is she stubborn.
I learned real young to stay out of her way and let her be independent if she chose to. In the end, if shit didn’t go her way, she’d eventually come to me. It worked out for the best like that.
Our home life sucked and we had to adapt quick. Sadie learned to depend on me for a bit of everything at an early age. I enjoyed helping with her when she was a baby; it made me feel like a good brother to get her a bottle of milk or find her a toy to play with. Then my role evolved into being the older sibling who taught her the simple things, like how to tie her shoes and how to catch worms when it rained.
Dad took off on our family after Sadie was born. According to Mom, he didn’t want the responsibilities. I don’t get how one kid was okay, but two became ‘responsibilities.’ What the fuck do you call one kid?
I’d enjoy seeing the dick now. I’d give him a piece of my mind after what we went through growing up.
Sadie’s always rationalized that he left because she wasn’t a boy. She has it in her head he would’ve stayed. She’s crazy; that bastard was going no matter if she was a girl or a boy.
He never visited, called, or sent anything either. Well, he couldn’t call after a while because the phone got shut off, along with the cable. Food became slim pickings and if they hadn’t owned the house prior to, then the electric and water would’ve been shut off as well. They did get shut off, eventually.
Mom, she was just vacant. Once Dad took off, she quit caring. If it wasn’t for Dad’s disability checks, we never would’ve made it as much as we did.
I can still imagine Sadie running around with her blonde pigtails and wearing my hand-me-down T-shirts. She was such a pretty little girl growing up, but drowned in my clothes that were far too big for her. We were poor, so we didn’t have a choice. Hell, we didn’t know any different.
I didn’t realize it back then, but I’d always made sure she had snacks out to eat and her room was cleaned up. I was a neat freak, so I guess I did it out of habit. I liked everything in a certain place, so it came natural to fix things in the house that got messed up.
Sadie grew bigger and I became more protective of her. I sat with her on the bus each day and walked her to her class. Then I’d meet her at the end of the school day and walk her to our bus to come back home.
I’d help her with her homework and teach her everything school related that I knew. She picked up on stuff quickly and did well with her grades. I was always a proud brother having her show me her report card when she brought it home. I’d already done the same schoolwork myself, so it was easy for me.
The first time I knew things were changing, I was fourteen. I attempted to cook Sadie a grilled cheese sandwich after school and the stove wouldn’t work. I freaked out, thinking I’d broken it. Nope, that dumb bitch hadn’t paid the bills. She’d been doing it more and more frequently, skipping payments.
That’s when shit started to get worse. I found out she was doing heroin. We were dirt poor, and mix in heroin, there’s no room for anything else. I became angry inside, worrying for my sister’s safety and how we were supposed eat every day.
I started to pick up any odd jobs I could find, to help as much as possible. The old Ace Hardware store owner knew me from stopping by and trying to learn how to fix things myself, since we could never hire anyone. He eventually gave me a job and it helped me pay for food and the utilities. I mowed lawns and picked weeds when I had free time.
Once Sadie was old enough to work, she started helping at Ace on the weekends during the busy hours. Thankfully it gave her enough money for the things she’d needed. I was a young boy, how was I supposed to know girls needed more shit than boys did?
She hit twelve years old and I had no clue what to do with her. I knew if a boy looked at her funny though, he’d get his ass beat. If a girl was malicious towards Sadie at school, I’d spread a rumor that she was a whore. Eventually people caught on and Sadie had a pretty decent time in school.
Things didn’t get much easier from there on out. It was difficult to try and work, plus finish high school. Sadie wasn’t going to quit, no matter how hard I had to struggle. I made a pact with myself when I found Mom doing drugs. I wouldn’t let Sadie go down that same path.
When I was seventeen, Mom split as well. She’d needed a fix so bad that she started breaking shit and tearing the house apart. She came at me with a knife, and I’d told her to get the fuck out. I’d kill her before I let her put us through more shit.
I didn’t ask for this life, and neither did Sadie. We didn’t deserve the hand we were dealt, we made it work though. We fought and struggled, but I’d be goddamned if I let my sister sink and pay the price for our parents’ stupidity.
Once Sadie graduated and could work as a receptionist for a local doctor, I was finally able to live my life a bit. Moving away from her was hell for a while. Not only was I her older brother, but I watched out for her as a quasi-parent, too. I had to move though. I needed to get away from the constant reminder of what life was like growing up.
Sadie believes one day Mom or Dad will return to the house. I pray for her sake, it never happens. I changed all the locks and eventually made sure the windows were replaced as well. I figured it would at least help keep them out, if one of them were to ever show up.
I stop by and visit her whenever I have a run up in that part of the country. I need my freedom now that she’s grown. I guess you can call it making up for lost time or some shit. I don’t like to feel any strings attached, holding me down, besides my sister.
Joining the club was a tough-enough decision for me. I wasn’t sure I could handle more roots until I got to know them well.
I was about to head back home to Texas when I’d run into Cain. He was on his piece-of-shit bike. I could tell when I first saw him he’d had a rough life, same as me.
The club has a lot of stragglers, so I knew he’d be welcomed. Most of the members had rough lives growing up as well. We’ve all dealt with some dark shit at some point in our lives, and some of us still fight with it.
I count myself lucky; all I dealt with growing up was missing parents. I’m still fucking jaded though. I’ll probably never have children of my own. I had to grow up too fast.
It’s all good though; I got Sadie out of the whole mess and she’s worth it. I may not give a shit about my own life, but I’ll always be proud of my little sister.
***
I love going on runs all over the country too, not just Cali. It’s like I can hop on my bike and ride away from any problems I may have. You also never know what you may find or who you may meet—like Cain, for example.
He was lost and now he’s found. It’s an awesome feeling knowing that I’ve helped him find his way. He’s happy and has a wonderful life with his ol’ lady and kid now.
There’s nothing in the world like the feeling of freedom I get, riding my bike down a long, open stretch of highway—the wind whipping against you and some good tunes to listen to—it’s just you and your bike. It’s refreshing and relaxing, my own piece of bliss. Speaking of that, I can’t wait to head back to Tennessee. Hopefully I’ll get to make a trip soon. There’s a certain sexy brunette I plan to hit up again. It’s been months since I last had her in my bed and I can still remember every dip and angle of her smooth body.
“2,” Cain greets, as I sit across from him in the navy-blue booth. I set my rocks glass down in front of me and chin lift toward it. “Too fuckin’ lazy to pour your own shots now, huh, brother?”
This little prick is always giving me shit about my age. I’m barely a few years older than him and still look better than him. He’s lucky his ass ain’t a prospect any more, or else I’d make him scrub a fucking toilet or two just to fuck with him.
“You jealous fucker, I’m only a few years older. Quit your bellyaching and pour me some Jack,” I grin. “You been talking to that bike of yours again?” I rib, good-naturedly.
I may be a touch older but I’m also in my prime right now. I look the best I ever have, feel fan-fucking-tastic, and I’m ready to face shit head on.
“Ha, motherfucker. I heard you talking to yours the other day, too,” he snickers, and I chuckle.
This man is obsessed with that custom 883 of his. We all enjoy hassling him about it, too. It’s a sweet bike; the brothers and I think it’s pretty sick. I personally favor my Hog; she’s my baby—all glossy black and chrome. It’s a bitch polishing that chrome up, but I don’t mind.
“Nah, man, it’s cool. How’s London and Jamison doing? I haven’t seen her around much.” Brother seems happy so I don’t think anything’s up.
“They’re good, thanks for asking. Jamison’s walking around the house, getting into shit like he owns the joint. He keeps sweet cheeks busy. I’m just trying to knock her up again.” He flashes a wicked grin.
“You’re nuts, bro; you’re going to have like twenty kids in all of five years. You’re going to be living here at the club, just to stay sane.”
I’m glad the brother has found something to look forward to. He and London are going to be a couple that stays together forever. They have that real happily-ever-after shit going for them and are pretty much obsessed with each other. I hope Cain realizes how lucky he is to have what most of us want, deep down. We just pretend like we don’t, and fuck as many club sluts as it takes to hide that emptiness.
Sure, there’re a few brothers who want to remain single, just to have a good time. There’re also plenty of brothers discreetly looking for their ‘ride-or-die’ chick. I’m in the middle—on the fence—about it.
I figure it’s either gonna’ happen when it’s time or it won’t. There isn’t shit I can do about it and I’m not about to substitute it with the first thing that wags her ass in front of me.
“Nah. I love her being knocked up with my kid in her belly. She’s so goddamn gorgeous and eats good shit. Now, she’s eating healthy and bitching that her hips have gotten wider. I keep telling her it’s because her body was created to have my babies. I love that chick. Best fucking thing we ever did was go to Tennessee.”
I nod and sip my whiskey.
He may be crazy wanting a car load of kids, but at least he enjoys aged whiskey and loves his woman fiercely. I wasn’t sure for a while. She took off and Cain moped around like a drunken ghost.
I hope one day I can find me a good woman like London. Once they came back here and Cain bought her that house, it’s like she completely embraced our life. She’s smart, beautiful, and respectful of the club. She could be the poster child for an ol’ lady.
I guess she’s a firecracker at home though. Cain’s always talking about her stirring shit up with him so they can have makeup sex and role play.
“Yeah, been thinking about that too,” I admit and shrug.
“You mean you’ve been thinking about Avery.” He tips his cup towards me wearing a sly smirk.
Of course, I’ve been thinking about Avery. She’s the best piece of pussy I’ve ever had; she hugs my dick like a tight fist.
She’s visited twice since London came back. It’s only been for a few days at a time though. Each visit, she hangs with London during the daytime and then stays the night here with me. I thought she might freak at first about the club, but she didn’t care. We always stay holed up in my room anyhow, so she’s only met a couple of the brothers.
“Maybe,” I shrug nonchalantly. I don’t like people all up in my shit. I know Cain will be all over that shit like a bitch in heat if he gets wind of me missing her.
“Maybe my ass, just text her. She talks about you every time London speaks to her on the phone. I know she wonders what you’re up to and if you’re ever heading to see her.”
I shake my head. “I’m good. I’ll catch up with her the next time she visits, same as last time she was here.”
God, the last time, it was fucking bliss, having her around. We had so much fun together. I love it that she’s so forward with me and free-spirited. She belongs on a bike exploring the country. She can also make a mean cup of coffee and that shit matters a lot the morning after you’ve been fucking all night.
“Anyhow, did you get ahold of that Russian friend of yours?”
Tate’s not so bad for overseeing the Mafia in America. He stays calm and collected no matter what. When we went to Tennessee, some bad shit popped off with his best friend.
The man didn’t even blink when he had to order the hit on Cameron. The fool had lived with him and everything! Tate’s the kind of fucker you should fear, but he’s also the best type of ally to have in your corner.
“Yeah, I spoke to him. And he ain’t my Russian. He’s practically my brother-in-law with how close London and Emily are,” he gripes and tips his whiskey back to drink it in one swallow, then bites into his lemon.
He’s a weird dude, eating lemons with his drink all the time. I scrunch up my nose and shoot him a disgusted look, he just laughs.
“Well, did you talk to Prez about it and what did you find out?” I ask the million-dollar question since he’s not offering shit up like a normal person would when talking.
“I told Prez what Tate said as soon as he walked out of church. You were too busy taking a piss and then screwing around behind the bar.”
I scoff and cross my arms. “I wasn’t screwing around; none of you fucks wash the glasses so I was cleaning my shit to drink out of. Excuse me if I’m trying not to get mono from the nasty ass glasses.” He just rolls his eyes and I shoot him an icy glare.
Come on, already. He likes to drag shit out because it gets me going. It always ends up with us trading arm punches and that fucking hurts.
He’s the club Brawler so he’s always lifting weights and working out. Every time we play arms, I end up with around twenty bruises and can barely lift my limbs the next day. I’m no small man by any means, but he punches fuckers for a living. I’m six-foot-two and I think he has an inch on me and probably about twenty more pounds. I’m lean but muscular, and Cain’s just plain solid everywhere.
“All right, geez, Tate said he doesn’t have shit to do with the Twisted Snakes, but he’s going to ask his brother, Viktor. I guess when Tate took over as Big Boss a few months ago, him and his uncle started talking to Viktor about taking over the Bratva. He thinks the Bratva might have had some dealings with them but he’s not one hundred percent sure. He’s supposed to call me back tonight. Prez is probably going to call church again when he finds out what Tate says, so be prepared.” He finishes and I nod.
“You bouncing?” I pour another shot.
“Yeah, man. I have to get back to the baby momma and all.”
I smirk at his baby momma comment. They’ve been calling each other that shit since she first found out she was pregnant, nearly a year and a half ago. I can’t believe it’s been that long already, and Jamison is his own little person now. The dude’s cool, too. All the Brothers treat him as their own when London brings him around here.
Only a few members have kids, so I guess that makes us the cool uncles to him. I’m undecided about having kids. I could see the enjoyment of it, but I’m not at that point in my life yet. I want to spend some time with someone for a while before I start planting my seed.
“Cool, tell her what’s up for me. Ride safe, Cain.”
“Always man, take it easy.” He chin-lifts, placing his cup in the bar sink. He shoots me a two-finger salute on his way out the club door.
I sip on my whiskey and savor the burn as it trickles down the back of my throat.
Lucky fucker, going home to his ol’ lady.
This life is a great one and you’re surrounded by your brothers all the time, but it can still get lonely. I finish up and put my glass in the bar sink as well. I had to wash my own, so these lazy asses can do the same.
Avery
I set yet another college student’s coffee down on the counter. I really should stop working in these damn coffee shops. I go from A Sip of Heaven to Brewed. At least Brewed allows me to drink coffee for free as long as I make it, myself.
Woohoo, that is, if I actually was a coffee drinker.
I like it sometimes but not a crazy amount or anything. The other shop made me pay for everything, except faucet water. Their water had a yellowish tint to it too, so that was a serious no-go.
The owner tried to play it off as the Tennessee water system. Yeah, right—water system, my ass. He was full of shit too. I have the same tap water at home and amazingly, mine comes out clear. I’m thinking his pipes are full of rust and he’s slowly poisoning the city of Knoxville. It wouldn’t surprise me since he’s a penny pincher on everything else.
I’m so sick of being here. I’m almost finished with school though. These accounting classes are so boring; I could watch paint dry and get more of a show.
One more semester of summer college life, then it’s off to the big world. I’m going to school for accounting; Mom and Dad say it’s a real job. Truth is, I don’t know what I’ll do with my degree. It’s terrifying to think of.
I could attempt to get a job at an accounting firm. Who knows if they’d even call me for a damn interview though. No matter how much I try, I just can’t imagine my life sitting behind a cubicle or in a box-sized office. That doesn’t sound fun or life fulfilling at all, some may enjoy it and more power to them.
This growing up crap has me thinking about my age too. Getting older is for the birds. I miss my biggest worry of eating cereal and watching cartoons on Saturdays.
I can’t believe I’m twenty-three years old. God, when did that happen? It seems like I just blinked from being twenty-one. Now that was a fun age for me. It’s amazing I didn’t end up needing to have my stomach pumped from hitting the fraternity parties so much. Those were some good times.
A scorching-hot burning sensation comes over me and I gasp. It’s like my hand is touching a stove burner lit up with a hot flame. I glance down quickly. “Shit!” I shriek and drop the metal milk steamer thingy.
Damn it.
I’m forever getting burned by these stupid coffee machines. Well, in this case, the container that you use to steam milk in. What happened to an old-fashioned cup of coffee? I mean if you like sweet, just add a shit ton of sugar to it and voila! Done!
I shake my hand crazily beside me and bring my fingers to my lips, hoping my saliva will cool the burn. It doesn’t work; it only makes it hurt worse. I yank my fingers out next and blow on them hard.
I end up flailing my hand around maniacally like I’m an injured bird or something. Fuck, that hurts, bastard devil coffee machine! These things could be torture devices if someone were creative enough.
“You all right, sweetie?” Dillan peers at me, worried.
She’s always kind and compassionate when she witnesses one of my accidental injuries. The girl is gorgeous too with bright red hair and perfectly tanned skin. She has a diamond Monroe piercing that makes her look super-hot. I’m not against kissing a chick, and her I’d kiss.
I really like Dillan a lot. Some people you have to work with are total dicks and slackers, but not her. She’s always in a decent mood and isn’t afraid to help someone out if they need it. I hope I come off as the same. Well, when I’m not busy burning myself and yelling at coffee machines.
“Yes, ma’am, I am. Thanks for asking. You mind finishing his order so I can clean up though?” I wheeze, shooting her a defeated look.
I’m so over this day. I need like a year-long vacation to an island, with lots of rum. Or Vodka, Tequila—whatever. I’m not picky. Oh, and a bottle of sunscreen; yup, sounds perfect.
“Yeah, hun, go ahead. Why don’t you just take your break now too and have a cuppa.”
I nod and make my way to the closet-sized break room. The last thing I want right now is a cuppa. I want a freaking strawberry lemonade and they only have those at Sonic. I take in the room; checking over the rack we hang our crap on and the tiny, desk-sized table with a plastic chair.
The lights dim and the walls are dreary beige. Fantastic. It’s so boring in here I could take a nap.
I grab a clean apron off one of the hooks on the walls.
God, I have to get out of here. I’m so sick of the everyday responsibilities and routine. All this work and for what? For bullshit, that’s what.
Ugh, who am I kidding? I’m probably never leaving this shithole. I’ll end up being a barista for the rest of my life and let my accounting degree go to shit. Or maybe I’ll be lucky enough to find a few people who need me to do their taxes on the weekends.
My phone alerts me to a text message. I quickly snatch it out of my pocket, ignoring the stinging ache radiating throughout my palm.
Niko: A! You want to party tonight?
It’s just my buddy, Nikoli. That’s the extent of our relationship now, partying and buddies. We were friends with benefits for a while. He was decent in the sack, too.
Not to mention he’s also damn good looking at like six-foot-five and covered in tribal tattoos. He has blond hair and strong Russian features. I always tease him with the line from Rocky, ‘I must break you.’ He watched the movie just because I kept teasing him. He says it’s crap, that he looks nothing like him.
Right. That man is built just like him. Niko is straight eye candy for your girly parts and the Tennessee chicks here eat that shit up like crazy. Throw in the accent and the bitches are done for.
We’re much better as friends it turns out; we’re too much alike. It got to the point where it was like sleeping with my brother. Well, if I had a brother, that’s what I imagine it would be like. But I never imagined my brother being hot. So anyway, it just became awkward.
When London started porking Cameron, I began seeing Niko. I got away from Cameron as quickly as possible. That controlling shit he tried to pull all the time was not for me.
Sometimes I’ll look for him at school, but I’m guessing he graduated. He’s not living at Tate’s anymore either. Niko moved into Tate’s house full-time now. It’s like Cameron just up and disappeared one day.
I asked the guys, but they both said he’d left the country. To just up and leave and not contact anyone, seems strange to me. Especially since he was best friends with Tate and Niko, but it’s whatever. No skin off my back.
Do I want to party with Niko tonight? Hmm, no. I’m not in the mood like I usually am. Guess I’m going to be a shitty wingman tonight and not help him get laid.
Me: Nope getting fat from Snickers ice cream. You’re welcome to join me.
Niko: No way José! I’m going to bar.
I burst out laughing. It’s pretty freaking funny to see a Russian using ‘José’ in a sentence. Any kind of silly line or shirt Niko finds, he incorporates into his speech and wardrobe.
It’s even more comical since he’s this monster-sized bodyguard to the Russian Mafia Boss. I wouldn’t change him for the world though. Some days he’s my sunshine on a cloudy day.
I bought him a T-shirt for his birthday that says BEEF in big bold letters across his chest and has a picture of a slice of cake underneath. He loved it and put it on right away. I thought it was hysterical and great all at the same time.
Me: Your loss, taco.
Niko: Taco? That has nothing to do with ice cream. If you make food, I come.
Me: LOL, never mind. I’m eating ice cream. You have fun, and stop by if you get bored.
Niko: K. Later gator.
Me: After while crocodile
Niko: O, I like that one.
I giggle some more. I love his Russian language and accent. It’s beautiful and makes him sound sillier sometimes. He even texts like he would say it. I’m not messaging him back. Once you get him started, he can go all day.
I wonder what Emily’s up to. I miss my bestie. Ever since she found out she was pregnant a few months ago, Tate’s been following her around like he’s wearing a leash. Who knew a little baby could turn hard-asses into mush.
Same goes for Cain. He’s had baby fever since I first met him. He and London have the cutest little boy that I’ve ever seen.
I know Tate and Emily will be the same way. I’m excited for them all. I just don’t have the same desires right now. I want to have fun and live as much as possible, save the growing up for later. I’m trying to only drink bottled water just in case pregnant dust is in the water or something. Screw that!
I guess I’d have to have sex first. Normally, that wouldn’t be an issue for me. I really enjoy the male anatomy. Ever since the last time I saw 2 Piece though, no one has made it past my front door. They just don’t compare to him at all in any department.
I keep asking London if they’re planning a trip to visit anytime soon. Hopefully, with Emily pregnant, they will. Tate and Emily always go to Texas. I know Emily likes to check on her grandfather’s house and visit London’s family too.
If they visit here, then 2 Piece will ride up with them in case they run into any shit. Cain’s funny about being protective when it comes to London and the baby. I’m guessing he’s paranoid something will happen since he’s a biker.
It just sucks because each time Tate and Emily make a trip, if I can’t get enough time off, then I can’t go with them. I’ve only been able to go on two of the six trips they’ve taken. I can’t afford to drive down there by myself or I would. I barely squeeze by as it is on my wages.
I was going to work at one of Tate’s businesses, but I couldn’t. If I decide to up and quit or something, I don’t want it to damage our friendship in any way. It’d be stupid to piss off the Mafia, even if he swears they aren’t after me. There’s always that inkling of doubt in the back of my head that they aren’t as sweet as they appear to be.
I’d hope that with my friendship to Niko and Emily, they’d at least try to save my butt. Who knows though? I just figure out my own way to make it.
I head out of the break room back to the front counter. I’m sure my break is way over by now. I’m a little bad about timing; I end up running late or early often.
“Feeling better, hun?” I look up as Dillan approaches and nod.
“Yes, thanks. Sometimes I become a tad overwhelmed. Sorry about that and thanks for taking over.”
I give her a side hug and a small smile. The boss would probably write me up if he were here to see me freak out like I did. Good thing it’s usually just the two of us in the evenings.
“Of course, lady, I don’t mind at all. I was coming to let you know that I filled Justin in on how dead the place is. He said we can close up thirty minutes early, so start your side work.” She jumps up and down, clapping her hands a few times, making me grin. Thank God there are only a few cameras or we’d look like a couple of fruit loops.
One positive thing about working in a coffee shop near campus is that we get to close in the evenings instead of super late like I’ve seen some coffee houses do. Everyone’s usually out with friends, partying or doing homework. Plus, I’m sure for safety reasons, it’s smarter to just close up shop.
“You’re freaking awesome, thank you.” I cheer and blow her a kiss.
She catches it dramatically and brings her hand to her chest. Making me giggle and turn up the store radio. “Sex on Fire” by Kings of Leon begins to play and we both dance around, singing while we clean.
I know I’m not a kid, but I love to have fun and act silly. My life would be much more boring if I never did anything like this.
I pretend to play the air guitar and she pretends to play drums. Dillan totally has a thing for drummers. I don’t blame her with that Hawk guy at Tainted. He’s über hotness with his blue mohawk and muscular drummer arms. They’d make an adorable couple too with Dillan’s model-like features and wild, red hair.
After finishing up the shift duties as quickly and efficiently as possible, we both hightail it out of there. I plan to go home and eat copious amounts of my favorite ice cream that Emily and London got me hooked on. Damn heifers, I now own every sundae topping imaginable too.
Dillan takes off to get her own food and probably pick Hawk up something, per her usual. What is it about men and food? If it’s not sex they want, then they seem to be hungry.