I smiled.
And just like that, the past had been told, and I felt we could move forward. Conversation shifted from the heavy topics to lighter things, like Shiloh’s favorite parts of town, the last vacation we’d each taken, and when we’d next go to the beach.
It became quickly apparent that Joe’s Java wasn’t going to be our last stop for the night. With the coffee shop set to close at the top of the hour and conversation going great, I was in no rush to end it. The problem was figuring out where next.
“I don’t suppose it would be in great taste for me to suggest we go to Brewskis,” I cracked with a smile.
“Funny you should say that, because on weekdays, it’s usually very tame,” he said. “On the weekdays I’ve gone, there’s never more than two Saints in there, sometimes none. I think we could go by at least if you wanted to. If there’s no one there, we can hang out.”
What was the harm? I’d be walking in with LeCharles. I’d play some pool. I’d be able to hang out as late as two in the evening.
“Sure.”
At first, I just assumed that we would drive separately. But when we started to naturally space apart to go to our vehicles, LeCharles called my name.
“Don’t you want to ride on the back of the bike?” he said. “It’ll be more fun now that you’re not hammered drunk or hungover.”
He had a point. I used to love riding that bike of his whenever I got the chance. It was a way to be really close to him and a way to, well, feel pretty good from the vibration.
“Sure,” I said with a smile. “Why not?”
* * *
The ride on the bike went as pleasantly as one could expect. It wasn’t a particularly long ride, as, again, Springsville was not some populated metropolis with traffic that slowed highways down to neighborhood speeds, but it was still nice to squeeze LeCharles’ tight body and feel the vibration between my legs.
But when Brewskis came into view, I saw something that I had not expected at all. I didn’t think LeCharles expected it, either.
The entire place was filled to the brim with Fallen Saints motorcycles. There must have been at least a dozen of them. LeCharles didn’t stop, wisely choosing instead to pull over at a gas station about half a mile away, but the sight was unmistakable for both of us.
“Shit,” he said. “I guess they’re hammering the point that they’re going to take over the bar.”
“Probably best not to go there tonight, huh?”
He shook his head in frustration.
“I almost wonder if they’re just doing it for show, but I doubt that means we should just walk in and play some pool,” he said. “Sorry. I had no idea.”
“You got nothing to apologize for, dear.”
Dear? Giving him pet names already? Slow it down, Rose.
“Why don’t we go to my place?” I said. “We can have some drinks and be low-key. You’ll have to drive me back so I can drive my car home, though.”
Strangely, I didn’t feel that that suggestion was moving too fast by any means. I knew I wasn’t going to sleep with him tonight, and that was doubly true because of the lack of alcohol. I just thought taking him home would keep things quiet, and we could chill.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea for me personally.”
Wait, what?
“If we’re trying to get to know each other, and we go back to your place... things might get hot really fast.”
Was this actually LeCharles I was hearing say this?
Or... what in the world was going on?
He was serious about wanting to get to know me. He wasn’t desperate to fuck me. He wasn’t desperate in any way, actually. Maybe I had just read into his perceived nervousness before, thinking it somehow meant something when it really didn’t.
“We can always hang out again a different night,” he said. “Not trying to get rid of you. Just... ”
