“I think Connor is,” Kathryn said.
“Connor?” Justine said. “The tattooed, floppy-haired one? He’s like the grungiest of them all.”
“Exactly! Don’t get me wrong, they’re all hot—sorry, Tara—but if I had to jump bones on one of them, Connor would be my choice.”
I smirked.
“What about you, Elizabeth?” Kathryn said as if sensing just by my expression alone that I had something to say. “You’ve been awfully quiet. Which one of the bikers would you go for?”
“Me?” I said with the kind of overt disgust I imagined some associated me with. “A biker? Ew. No way. Not a chance.”
“Not a chance?” Kathryn said. “Come on, Elizabeth. They’re not here right now. It’s not like they’re Beetlejuice, you saying their name won’t make them magically appear.”
I refused to look at Tara; whom I saw, in my peripheral vision, trying not to look at me either.
“As long as it’s not Brock,” Justine said, a dry remark that drew a laugh even from my sister.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m really not into the smell of gasoline and oil. And besides, I’m more of a white-collar gal, an Ivy League chaser, than I am a biker guy.”
“Yeah, but aren’t those guys pussies?”
Oh, Kathryn.
“No, seriously. When we saw that fight at Reapers, how many Ivy League boys would have stepped in and fought like they did? I don’t know that they’d make great boyfriends, but if we’re just talking some fun, why not?”
“Because you’ll wake up feeling used?” Justine said.
Kathryn and Justine got into an argument, as they usually did, about if that even mattered or not. It gave Tara a chance to finally shoot me a sympathetic look, and I mouthed the words “we’ll talk” to her while the other two continued arguing. Eventually, we got lumped back into the conversation, and it turned to lighter topics.
It wasn’t as easy as saying that I didn’t want to admit my interest in Steele right now. I wasn’t even sure that I had an interest in Steele. He’d fucking walked out on me in the middle of our hangout last week—if that even was a date.
Friendly or not, platonic or not, sexual or not, that was just rude. And while it seemed like he’d walked out because of pain and not because of anger or disgust, I hadn’t entirely forgotten how I preferred men who were more traditional. Just because Steele was revealing himself to be someone who understood my spot in life better than most didn’t mean I just tossed all my standards aside.
After about an hour, Kathryn and Justine said they had to leave. We gave them both hugs and let them head home before we waited a minute or so.
“So, no bikers, huh?” Tara said as she plopped back down on the couch, stretching her legs out.
“That may be the case now, yeah.”
“Then what happened with Steele? Is it that bad?”
I bit my lip and recounted what had happened. I admitted with some hesitancy that I had enjoyed hanging out with him at Copper Lounge and Reapers, but it was hard as hell to look past him just getting up and leaving. I said that I tried to understand, but in the absence of information, it was really damn hard.
“Do you know anything about that? About why asking about family matters was so damn difficult?”
Tara bit her lip.
“In the two years I dated him, I was serious when I said he barely mentioned them,” she said. “However, as best as I can tell, I think his father is dead or dead to him, and I think his mother is a real drag. I think he goes to see her once a week, so she’s nearby. But every time I brought them up, he wouldn’t say anything. It’s easy to look past that when you’re twenty-two, with him as a silent rebellion against Dad.”
She sighed.
“I never regretted dating Steele, you know,” she said. “We broke up because he never grew up, and that was part of it, but he’s not a bad person. I do regret not pushing him hard enough, but we all had to learn to grow some spine in our own way. You’re someone who has never been afraid to push a little bit.”
“A little?”
Tara smirked.
“I’m trying to be nice here,” she said with a chuckle. “There’s no doubt he’s grown up since the breakup. I’m sure if you push him, you two can be better than we ever were.”
