“I like talking to you, but I don’t know enough about you to be ready to spend time alone with two guys somewhere.”
“Because we’re bikers?” asked Max with a narrowed gaze.
She tilted her head. “That might be part of it.”
Rafe said, “I have an idea of how to deal with that.”
“Another thing is that I have a pretty full life right now. I have my work, and I’m raising my little sister.”
“I’ve been there,” said Max. Ma had hung on until he was just a few months from graduating high school, extracting from him a promise that he’d graduate. He had, despite all the stress of that time, and he’d been dealing with his grieving twelve-year-old sister then too, along with all the hassles from CPS constantly checking on them to ensure he was doing right by her.
“How little?” asked Rafe.
“Sixteen.”
“So not so little. It isn’t like you have to have a babysitter when you aren’t around.”
“She is troubled. Our mother died of cancer a couple of years back, and she still hasn’t gotten past it.”
Max winced. “That’s how I lost my ma too.”
She gave him a sympathetic look. “I don’t like leaving her alone at night because she has nightmares sometimes. I go home straight from work, and on my days off, we try to do things together.”
“Sorry. That’s rough.” Max knew that well.
“Besides, getting back to you, both of you—all I know about you is what you drink and that you’re bikers. That’s a description for a wanted poster, not helpful information for understanding who you are or what you do, or what you both want from me.”
“I’m a computer guy.”
“And he’s training me to be one,” said Max.
“Oh, lord, not another one. You and Brad can start a club.”
Max winced as Rafe laughed. “Somehow I don’t think that would work out well.”
“Probably not. It was a cheap shot, but I couldn’t resist. I know there’s nothing wrong with computers. My sister likes them. I think she wants to become a programmer. It’s one of the things that takes her mind off her fears.”
“It works that way for a lot of us,” said Max. “For Danielle, it was art. For me, it was bikes and then the computers once Rafe and I became friends.”
“You have fears?” She seemed surprised by that.
“Sure. Fears, failures, all sorts of insecurities.”
“We all do,” added Rafe.
“Doesn’t telling me that violate some macho biker code?”
“Not really,” said Max.
“We new-generation bikers know that admitting our vulnerabilities makes us seem sexier.” Rafe chuckled.
She laughed. “Nice try, buddy. Does it work?”
Rafe grinned. “You tell me.”
Max shook his head at his friend, but he was curious to hear her answer too.
She shook her head. “Not so far. We’re still at the ‘I like talking to you’ level. Clever repartee doesn’t advance your cause.”