I suddenly no longer cared about what Thea had to say. Granted, I hadn’t cared that much in the lead-up to her text, but seeing Kaitlyn’s text utterly cemented my disinterest. I wasn’t interested in getting laid with some random chick, that much was for sure.
“Thea?” Jackie said.
“Sorry,” I mumbled as I turned away, feeling her arm brush off me, not paying attention to anything more.
“What the hell?”
“Go talk to Axle, he’s also military,” I said as I turned my attention back to my phone. Would that time work?
Yes, seven on Monday would work great. It would work really great, actually.
Just remember you’re there to secure nursing help. Nothing more. You’re not in any shape to date someone—you date her, she’ll get dragged down in your misery.
Or maybe she can be the one to bring you sanity and hope.
Hahahaha, fat fucking chance.
But still a chance…
Just be fucking careful, then.
Too bad that if there was one thing I had learned as a vet, it was that while I was great at giving other people advice, I was really pretty bad at following it.
Kaitlyn
The whole “I’ll text you in a few days” promise, made as much to myself as to Michael, lasted all of about twelve hours.
The problem was that as I sat at home, desperately trying to shake Michael from my mind, desperately trying to remind myself that what had happened with Kristina could happen to me, I found myself falling more and more for him, or at least the image I had of him in my head. That was the one thing that kept me sane and from indulging my less intelligent side—the constant internal reminder that I didn’t really know Michael, and that if he was a Black Reaper, he was bound to have a dark side far scarier and far more threatening than what most men had.
But just because he has that doesn’t mean he doesn’t also have a good side.
It became the kind of thing where, by the time I’d gotten dinner, I was legitimately asking myself the question of what was worse. Seeing what happened with him, or working for his group?
I shuddered at the realization that while both obviously had some benefits, both could also bring some hardships—but saying no to both could also bring some hardships. He seemed like a nice guy as a potential interest, but he was a biker. On the other hand, if I didn’t try and see where things went with him, then who the hell was I going to try with? It wasn’t exactly like this town was swarming with men. Devon had made that all too clear, and she wasn’t wrong.
Working for the Black Reapers was a little more cut-and-dry, but even then, it wasn’t without some perks. I had some debt that I still needed to pay off, and while that wasn’t some existential threat or question in my head, it was still very much something that I needed to work on.
In short, by the time I finally did send the text to Michael asking if he wanted to do Monday night, it was less of a desire and more of a logical conclusion that I’d come to.
Unfortunately, I literally could not wait to see how that conclusion would play out in real-time. Somehow, Michael had done the impossible.
He’d gotten me to say yes to a biker.
* * *
Monday Night
We agreed to a local restaurant named Mama Sue’s, a place that served classic American fare in sandwiches, burgers, fries, and soda. It was a public place, but it was not going to be a particularly crowded place.
Even in the seconds leading up to my entrance to the restaurant, I still wasn’t sure how, exactly, I wanted to define this meeting. Just because there were sparks didn’t mean I wanted to call it a date. If anything, the very idea of calling it a date was heavier and more burdening than anything else. But the existence of those sparks prevented me from being naive about what it could turn into.
“Hey!” Michael called out from a booth in the back when I didn’t see him at first.
I hated how as soon as I laid eyes on him, I felt attracted. I hated that the sight of that soft but gentle face made my stomach drop. I hated that I hadn’t had this feeling ever since I’d moved to Springsville, meaning that no matter how many games I played with myself, I genuinely could not help the romantic scarcity mindset that had crept into my head.
“Hey, Michael,” I said.
“Hey,” he said, and it felt like we were two teenagers, unsure of what to say to each other, reduced to awkward, short sentences. “How have things been? Hospital good?”
