I swallow hard. “If Iron Jack wants me with him, can he … make me?”
Betz shrugs. “Not if you’re a mouse. But he’ll probably have the two of you hang out together, see if you hit it off.”
“I didn’t know Iron Jack played matchmaker. Doesn’t seem like him.”
Betz laughs. “Nah. He wants your cherry off the table. Done. You’re a liability, and since you don’t seem in a hurry to shack up, he figures he’ll bring a better prospect. You don’t have to marry him.”
I’m about to ask her if I’d have to leave the clubhouse if I changed my cherry status when Low Joe comes up behind her and grabs her hips, dragging them against him. “Tell the mouse to get the fuck out of there so I can have you to myself.”
Betz laughs. “You’ll get your dick wet when I’m good and ready.” She turns to me. “Go on, then.”
I should talk to Carol about this anyway. She’s easier.
Low Joe pulls Betz out of the way, and I scoot through the doorway. I fly through the kitchen to the living room and out the front door.
Another prospect! This complicates things. Should I tell Merrick? Does he already know?
He sits on his bike, holding the extra helmet.
I’m so happy to see him that I erase any thought of the Wild Hair. “Hey,” I say, reaching for the helmet.
He lifts it out of my reach with a mischievous grin. “I have a surprise for you.”
“You do?”
“You got that red number you told me about?”
I nod.
“Go get it. There’s a pole set up at the Leaky Skull. I’d like to see you dance in my bar in that thing.”
Heat pools inside me. “You got it.”
I hurry back inside the clubhouse. There’s no sign of anybody. I fling myself into the bunkhouse and snatch up one of my suitcases. I haven’t unpacked anything.
The red spangly outfit is tiny. I can stuff it into the wide front pocket of my sweatshirt. My whole body zips with anticipation. I’m going to be alone with Merrick at the bar again. Wearing this!
My knees feel weak, imagining another O like the last one.
I want it.
I hustle back through the clubhouse. This time when I reach Merrick, he hands me the helmet. “You got it?” he asks.
I pull the red sparkle fabric out to show him.
He nods. “Nice.”
The helmet is heavy on my head as I snap the strap. I fling a leg over the back of the bike and hang on.
I want to feel everything as we ride. The crisp air on my face. Merrick’s strong body in my arms. I squeeze my arms together, and he releases the handlebars with one hand to squeeze my forearm.
That’s affection! We’re responding to each other!
Everything soars within me. I’ve been wanting this for so long that I can’t remember when I didn’t spend all my time thinking about Merrick. Technically, I met him the same night Symphony met Diesel, and those two are practically living together at this point.
I’m always a thousand miles behind.
But maybe not after today.
