been holding my breath, waiting for him to press the issue. "You didn't know," I replied.
"No I didn't know, but I know living with people is tough," he repeated.
"Why, where do you live?"
He chuckled ruefully. "At our clubhouse, behind Teach's shop."
I was taken aback. "You live with them too?"
I saw his fist clench and shrank back, but just as quickly as I saw it, it was gone again. "I needed a place to crash after I...graduated."
I was suddenly filled with the intense need to touch him. I pressed my hand against his leather clad back, “I'm kind of dependent on my roommate too. It sucks."
If he noticed my touch, he didn't comment. He didn't call attention to it. He just accepted my comfort with grace.
"A man should stand on his own two feet," he muttered, and I wasn't sure if he meant for me to hear.
Just then Rosie plopped down two full shot glasses and a huge platter of fries in front of us. J. handed me a glass and held his aloft. "What would you like to toast?"
I thought for a moment. "To the start of something new," I decided.
His huge grin as he took the shot made me instantly sputter. "I mean, your graduation and all. A new start." Once more the lie sounded so plausible that I decided to believe myself.
"Gotcha," J. agreed without protest.
I knocked back my shot to hide my embarrassment. I didn't want to lead him on. I had a boyfriend. No wait, he was my fiancé. The man I was going to marry. I shouldn't be doing shots with a biker, no matter how captivating his eyes were. Or how smooth his skin was. Or how delicious his dimples looked. The whiskey didn't burn me nearly as badly this time. The fire in my belly was caused by something else.
"Are you going to eat?" I interrupted my thoughts before they gave me away.
"You go first, Em."
The fries were smothered in a lake of bright orange cheese. Wafts of fragrant steam hit my face and my mouth immediately watered. "Holy shit, that smells good."
"Be my guest," J. gestured, pushing the plate towards me.
I paused. This would blow my diet to hell and back again. It was greasy and nutritionally void. And it definitely wasn't organic. If Robert knew, he would never speak to me again.
I slid a fry out from the side of the plate and nibbled giddily. "Wow."
J. was watching me quizzically. "Have you never had a French fry before?"
I grabbed three more and shoved them into my mouth. The scorching hot cheese seared the roof of my mouth, but I didn't care.
"It's been a long while," I explained, blowing out my cheeks to cool my mouth. I closed my eyes, tasting the grease. I waited for the guilt to hit me. This was undoing all my hard work all these months. But for some reason, J. made me feel like it was okay. Like there was nothing wrong with just enjoying myself.
I opened my eyes to see him watching me. His lips were curved into the most beautiful, openhearted smile I had ever seen. I felt a rush of something inside of me, something that couldn't be denied. The whiskey and beer made me bolder that I had ever felt before. I leaned towards him, drawn closer by instinct. He made no moves, but let me slide off my stool in a trance.
I lifted my lips towards his. He bent his head slightly, and his lips brushed mine as if by accident. It was a soft as the flutter of moth wings, and yet it sent a jolt of pure electricity down my spine. I pressed into him and he folded me into his strong arms. As he kissed me, I could feel the bulge begin to rise in his jeans. The feeling inflamed me.
He wanted me.
I could feel it. He wanted me as much as I wanted him. I parted my lips, letting him taste my tongue with his. His lips were soft, but the stubble of his cheeks rasped against mine. His breath quickened and the bulge in his jeans pressed into my stomach. Dazed, I lifted my arms and pulled him closer. I was definitely drunk, both on whiskey and on him. I felt a dull, persistent throbbing inside of me.
He ran his fingers through the length of my hair, letting the strands
"No I didn't know, but I know living with people is tough," he repeated.
"Why, where do you live?"
He chuckled ruefully. "At our clubhouse, behind Teach's shop."
I was taken aback. "You live with them too?"
I saw his fist clench and shrank back, but just as quickly as I saw it, it was gone again. "I needed a place to crash after I...graduated."
I was suddenly filled with the intense need to touch him. I pressed my hand against his leather clad back, “I'm kind of dependent on my roommate too. It sucks."
If he noticed my touch, he didn't comment. He didn't call attention to it. He just accepted my comfort with grace.
"A man should stand on his own two feet," he muttered, and I wasn't sure if he meant for me to hear.
Just then Rosie plopped down two full shot glasses and a huge platter of fries in front of us. J. handed me a glass and held his aloft. "What would you like to toast?"
I thought for a moment. "To the start of something new," I decided.
His huge grin as he took the shot made me instantly sputter. "I mean, your graduation and all. A new start." Once more the lie sounded so plausible that I decided to believe myself.
"Gotcha," J. agreed without protest.
I knocked back my shot to hide my embarrassment. I didn't want to lead him on. I had a boyfriend. No wait, he was my fiancé. The man I was going to marry. I shouldn't be doing shots with a biker, no matter how captivating his eyes were. Or how smooth his skin was. Or how delicious his dimples looked. The whiskey didn't burn me nearly as badly this time. The fire in my belly was caused by something else.
"Are you going to eat?" I interrupted my thoughts before they gave me away.
"You go first, Em."
The fries were smothered in a lake of bright orange cheese. Wafts of fragrant steam hit my face and my mouth immediately watered. "Holy shit, that smells good."
"Be my guest," J. gestured, pushing the plate towards me.
I paused. This would blow my diet to hell and back again. It was greasy and nutritionally void. And it definitely wasn't organic. If Robert knew, he would never speak to me again.
I slid a fry out from the side of the plate and nibbled giddily. "Wow."
J. was watching me quizzically. "Have you never had a French fry before?"
I grabbed three more and shoved them into my mouth. The scorching hot cheese seared the roof of my mouth, but I didn't care.
"It's been a long while," I explained, blowing out my cheeks to cool my mouth. I closed my eyes, tasting the grease. I waited for the guilt to hit me. This was undoing all my hard work all these months. But for some reason, J. made me feel like it was okay. Like there was nothing wrong with just enjoying myself.
I opened my eyes to see him watching me. His lips were curved into the most beautiful, openhearted smile I had ever seen. I felt a rush of something inside of me, something that couldn't be denied. The whiskey and beer made me bolder that I had ever felt before. I leaned towards him, drawn closer by instinct. He made no moves, but let me slide off my stool in a trance.
I lifted my lips towards his. He bent his head slightly, and his lips brushed mine as if by accident. It was a soft as the flutter of moth wings, and yet it sent a jolt of pure electricity down my spine. I pressed into him and he folded me into his strong arms. As he kissed me, I could feel the bulge begin to rise in his jeans. The feeling inflamed me.
He wanted me.
I could feel it. He wanted me as much as I wanted him. I parted my lips, letting him taste my tongue with his. His lips were soft, but the stubble of his cheeks rasped against mine. His breath quickened and the bulge in his jeans pressed into my stomach. Dazed, I lifted my arms and pulled him closer. I was definitely drunk, both on whiskey and on him. I felt a dull, persistent throbbing inside of me.
He ran his fingers through the length of my hair, letting the strands
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