“Fuck yeah, it worked. I don’t kiss and tell, but let me just say, I was a rock star my junior year of high school.”
I laughed. “I wouldn’t have known what to do with a guy like you back in high school.”
“Darlin’,” he drawled. “You don’t know what to do with a man like me now.”
No truer statement had been uttered between us.
“Are you still not going to tell me where we’re going?” I asked.
“Slow your roll. You’re gonna enjoy yourself, I promise.”
We drove to the outskirts of town and passed a lot of abandoned brick buildings and old storefronts that were empty.
Boxer turned down a side street that looked like an alleyway of sorts. A bright neon sign flashed the name “Pinky’s.”
“It’s not a biker bar, is it? I’m not really dressed for a biker bar.”
“It’s not a biker bar,” he said with a chuckle.
“What? What did I say?”
“Nothing. I just had this vision of you walking into a biker bar and your eyes bugging out of your head.”
“Why would my eyes bug out of my head?”
Boxer paused for a moment and then rubbed a thumb across his chin stubble. “I don’t know, maybe all the leather, women with teased hair and tats, and a bunch of people who give no fucks might be a shock to someone used to boat shoes and bow ties. What do you really know about bikers, Linden?” His tone was serious, and he’d used my name. He wanted me to pay attention.
“I don’t know a lot really. Just what I learned from pop culture.”
Boxer nodded thoughtfully. “We’re not like normal people.”
“Bikers?”
“Yeah, but in particular the Blue Angels,” he corrected. “We live by our own rules. We value loyalty, family, and our community. We choose to make our own reality in a world that would rather put us in a box. We prefer the open road under blue skies. We live free, Linden.”
“I don’t understand,” I said.
“Not everything we do is lawful.”
And there it is.
“So, you’re an outlaw?”
“Yeah.” He stared at me. “Darlin’?”
“Why are you bringing this up now?” I asked in annoyance. I didn’t want to be confronted with the truth. I wanted fun and light, and this was anything but fun and light.
“So there’s no confusion about who I am or what I do. I am who I am. I’m a biker with a high school diploma. You’re a doctor. We live very different lives.”
“I know that.”
“Do you? Because women have this habit of saying they understand and then when their bodies get involved, so do their emotions. Don’t think you can change me.”
“Change you?” I repeated. “Why would I try and change you?”
“Because that’s what women do.”
“Not me,” I assured him.