“Are you going to tell me about her?” I responded, earning a rare smile from her.
“Maybe a little. She’s secretive, so I don’t know much.”
“Single?”
“I think so. But she’s got a kid.”
“Really?” I wasn’t sure what to think about that. I’d never dated a woman with a kid before, assuming that they were too complicated. A woman’s baggage didn’t get much heavier than that.
“Little boy. He seems like a good kid, but he’s young, so keep that in mind if you run into her again.”
I was sure that I would. In fact, I was tempted to go join the damn fitness center just to orchestrate such a thing. But did I want to go after her knowing that she was a mom? My cock, heavy in my pants at the thought of her curvy body, wanted to scream “yes,” but I wasn’t so sure. She was hot, but I didn’t know anything about kids. What if she expected me to play the part of dad? I didn’t think I had it in me.
* * *
Some bars thrived onlyon the weekends, but The Blue Dog wasn’t like that. It seemed that there was always a crowd here, even on a Wednesday night. I never sat at the tables that were scattered around the place, preferring to perch myself on a barstool.
“Another one?” Carlos asked, nodding to the empty beer bottle in front of me. I nodded.
Carlos had started working at The Blue Dog five years ago, and became a Prospect almost immediately, sponsored by Hawk. He’d finally been voted in as a member and received his patch last year.
Carlos sat another bottle on the bar in front of me, twisting the top off. I let my eyes roam the bar as I took a swig and let out a contented sigh. The first sip was always the best.
There were several Outlaw Souls in the bar, but also others from the community. Some I recognized, some I didn’t. You didn’t have to be a member of the motorcycle club to enjoy this place, but here were always patrons that stuck out, ones that didn’t quite belong. I watched a group of women that fit that bill crowded around a table, knocking back tequila shots and giggling way too much.
That was common here, young women that came in to satisfy their curiosity about the club members. Usually, they stayed in groups, flirted with anyone in a leather jacket, and left with a story about how daring and wild they were for visiting a known biker bar. Sometimes, they were legitimately looking for a hookup. Those women were bold and, in my experience, great for a round or two in bed, but the thrill wore off quickly for them. This lifestyle wasn’t for everyone, and it would be delusional to make more out of a bar hook-up than there was.
I saw Pin at the pool tables, getting his ass kicked by the girl that he’d been seeing for a year. A pang of loneliness echoed in the center of my chest. Not long ago, I was content with the single life. There were always women around to fulfill my sexual needs, and I had never had a more meaningful relationship, so I didn’t give much thought to what I might be missing. Then, Ryder fell for a girl that made him a better man. Not long after, Pin met Claire.
I could see a change in both men since they found their significant others. They hadn’t necessarily been unhappy before, but now they were…fulfilled. They had something that I never knew I wanted.
The evening sunlight spilled over me as the door of the bar opened. The two girls that walked in, definitely belonged in the “don’t quite belong” category. They were young, with manicures and mile-high heels. Heavy makeup coated both of their faces, which I suspected was an attempt to make them look older than they were.
The girls approached the bar, where Carlos was already watching them with pursed lips and narrowed eyes. “IDs, ladies,” he demanded, holding out his hand.
They didn’t hesitate. Reaching into tiny handbags, they each produced a driver’s license and handed it over. Carlos looked them over for a moment, unsure.
“Let me see,” a voice said to my right. I glanced over and saw that Hawk had appeared at some point, taking a seat beside me.
Carlos gave Hawk the IDs, looking relieved. Hawk earned a hell of a lot of cash in the fake ID business himself, and it was common knowledge that he could make the best papers in La Playa. A smile stretched across his face as he looked at the girl’s IDs.
“Good ones, I’ll give you that,” he said, looking at the pouting minors. “But not good enough. They’re fakes.”
“No, they’re not,” one of the girls replied, glaring.
“Should we call the cops to be sure?” Hawk asked. The girls couldn’t know that he was bluffing. We’d never willingly call the cops here.
“We’ll leave,” the other girl hastily cut in, reaching for the IDs. Hawk pulled away, tucking the IDs into his pocket.
“I’ll hold onto these. To teach you a lesson.”
The first girl looked like she wanted to argue, but her friend placed a hand on her arm and shook her head.
“Asshole,” she muttered under her breath as her friend practically dragged her out the door.
“She has a point,” I said once the girls were outside. “Kind of an asshole move to take the IDs.”
Hawk shrugged. “The last thing we need is to get popped for serving minors. The next ones might think twice about pulling this shit in here if word gets around that they lose their fake IDs.”
