I grabbed a pint glass and began to fill it. “I think you saw.”
“Everyone saw!” She took a step closer. “Do you know who you just kissed?”
“Yeah, I kissed a guy who scared off some punk kid who wanted to pay me for a night in bed.”
Shelly shook her head, her honey blond ponytail sweeping her shoulder. “No,youjust kissed a Blue Angel.”
I set the pint aside as beer frothed over the lip of the glass and reached for another. “So?”
“So?” she nearly squeaked. “You don’t just go up and kiss some random biker.”
“First of all, I didn’t kiss him, he kissed me. Second of all, I told him he and his friend could drink for free tonight if he pretended to be my boyfriend. What’s the big deal?”
“You have no idea what you just got yourself into, do you? I grew up in a trailer park, Mia. I’m familiar with biker clubs. They were around all the time. And the last thing you want is to be on their radar.”
“I’m not on their radar,” I said in exasperation. “He did me a solid. It’s no big deal.” I didn’t want to hear any more of my best friend’s lecture, so I took the freshly poured pints and delivered them to the two bikers who were sitting in the corner booth.
They stopped talking the moment I approached. The blond smiled up at me and said, “Thanks.”
“No sweat,” I said. I set the pints down and began to turn with the intention of leaving.
“I’m Zip. Your boyfriend’s name is Colt.” His blue eyes twinkled with humor and I felt my cheeks heat.
“Ah, yeah, thanks for that,” I said, shuffling from foot-to-foot, feeling awkward.
“And who are you?” Zip prodded, a smile blooming across his face.
“Mia,” I said. “My name is Mia.”
Colt said nothing, but continued to look at me with an indiscernible gaze.
“Enjoy your drinks.”
I hastily made my way back to the bar. Shelly opened her mouth to say something, but I held up my hand. “Don’t.”
Thankfully, a group of people entered and for the next few hours we were too busy for chitchat and the inevitable lecture that I knew was coming.
When the rush died a few hours later, I looked at the booth where the bikers had been sitting, but they were gone.
“I’m taking the trash out,” I said.
“You sure? I can do it,” Shelly offered. “You did it last time.”
“I don’t mind,” I told her. I lifted the hefty bag full of empty beer and liquor bottles and maneuvered my way off the floor toward the back alley of Dive Bar.
I pushed my shoulder against the door to open it and immediately heard the unmistakable sound of knuckles striking flesh.
I dropped the bag of refuse when I saw a leather-clad biker fighting a khaki-wearing, ripped meathead. The two men were about the same size, and for a moment I couldn’t tell who was winning the brawl.
My heartbeat accelerated at the scent of blood in the air and I gasped at the violence, frozen in place.
The two men fought like lions, bloodying each other as though they were battling to the death for territory, neither of them willing to back down. Grunts and guttural sounds filled the air and blood streamed from their faces when finally the biker knocked the muscled man off balance and kicked his legs out from under him. The meathead fell to the ground. When he tried to rise, the biker grabbed his hair with one hand and pulled his head back. Looking straight into his eyes, the tatted biker sank his fist into his opponent’s face with all his might, ending the altercation.
A shaft of moonlight peeked out from the clouds to reveal the bloodied face of the man who’d kissed me just a few hours ago.
Colt’s eyes blazed with intensity as he stared at me.
“Go back inside,” he commanded. His voice was angry, rough.