Shouldering their leader who snatches his bottle up on the way out.
I can see at a glance how much of an authority figure Slade still is.
He doesn’t even ride with this club anymore, but they all respect him even more for it.
Even their current President.
“They’ll be going soon,” Slade says knowingly.
“I’ll put up with a lot, but hard liquor isn’t one of those things. Not in my house. Not on any day, birthday, MC club gathering… never,” he says with conviction.
It’s certainly killed more than a few of Brick's brain cells too.
The mood has plummeted, with only regret and uncertainty left behind. A missed opportunity I’m not sure I will ever get back.
“So… about the tattoo,” I say slowly, trying to re-start something that’s long passed already.
“Just think about what I said is all, Abby,” is all Slade says, making me melt when he rubs my shoulder.
Affectionate friend? Yes.
About to take me from behind roughly over the countertop? No.
Case closed for now.
Ugh.
My cell chirping from my back pocket is something I try to ignore, but Slade’s commanding look tells me otherwise.
He sighs. “You should get that.”
The moment is completely gone now and never to return.
Its mom, so Slade’s right. I really should get it. So much for her giving me the silent treatment. And something tells me my best friend might have a hand in this call, ratting me out to my mom somehow.
Why?
Because she knows deep down that I have a volcano burning between my legs for her dad.
“Abby? I just saw Tasha drive by without you. Where are you?” she asks, her word coming in rapid-fire succession. So quick I don’t even have time to reply or make up an excuse of where I might be rather than where I actually am.
“You’re not at that tattoo parlor I hope?” she asks, her voice rising.
I notice Slade cock a brow, then turn away smiling. He leaves me to my own devices.
Leaves me flailing for the right words so I can—
“Just get home as soon as you can, okay?” she continues, not even letting me get out more than an involuntary sound.
“You’ve got your cousins coming over for babysitting, remember?” She says, and I have to admit, in all the excitement of today it kinda had slipped my mind.
Like the rest of reality, the rest of the sorry excuse that is my life right now.
My life without Slade.
Before I can hang up, he leans over, telling my mom he’ll give me a ride home himself right before I hang up.
“Great,” I grumble, switching my phone off so I don’t have to deal with the fallout from that. “Now I have to go.” I groan loudly, sighing bitterly as I wonder what it is that Slade finds so amusing.
“Well, I wanted an excuse to get outta here anyways,” he drawls, shrugging and shooting me a sly wink.
“You ever ride bitch— I mean, have you ever ridden pillion before?” Slade asks, shaking his head at his remark.
Another biker thing I’m assuming?
But anything from Slade is alright with me, I know he doesn’t mean it like that. And no. I’ve never ridden “bitch” or anything else, and I tell him so.
“We’d better get started then,” he says eagerly, tilting his head as he examines mine for some reason.
I feel a sudden racing in my chest and butterflies in my stomach.
“Wha-What are you looking at?” I ask, sounding blonder by the minute.
“I need to know if Tasha’s helmet will fit,” he grunts, shrugging again, but then adds I have to wear a helmet, even if he doesn’t.
In a few minutes, we’re back in his house, and Slade’s announced that his party’s over and that as much as he’s glad to see everyone, they can all fuck off now.
To my ears, it sounds terrible, but everyone whoops and hollers, prouder than ever of their ex-president and oldest friend for telling them how it is. None of them minding their plans for a big and long party have been ruined long before it’s even really started.
“I gotta run Abby here home anyways,” he tells them, glancing in my direction.
“Just pull the door shut behind ya, and… well. Thanks for comin’. Thanks for everything,” he adds.
The charged silence that follows tells each of the men what they mean to Slade, but none of them have the inclination to get all sappy about it.
I follow Slade as he makes his way towards the front door, scooping up a set of keys and pausing at the hall closet to fetch a helmet I know must be Tasha’s.
Only now does it finally sink in.
I’m not just about to ride home with Slade.
I’m gonna ride one of his huge motorcycles for the first time in my life.
The bike is as big as a house, or at least that’s what it feels like when I stand next to it.