BB
It has been a shit day.
This is not how today was planned out in my head. Today should be fucking unbelievably good. Nope, I’m heading to Beau’s garage in a fucking horrible mood. I didn’t take my time to figure out what to bring Beau for lunch. I didn’t do shit to make it special. Instead, I’m bringing a pizza and two bologna sandwiches from Jack’s.
Jack’s is a fast-food place inside a gas station. It’s great food, sure, but it’s basically truck stop kind of fare. There’s nothing special about it. It will fill you up. The only thing about the bologna is that it’s fried to perfection and is smothered in mustard and cheese. I don’t even know if Beau likes mustard and cheese. Hell, I don’t even know how she feels about bologna. That’s the reason I bought the pizza too. I have the sandwiches often. On the menu, which is basically on a big board above the counter where you order, there’s a bold black header that reads, sandwiches. Under that there’s a list of the different types they have. Somewhere in the middle you find “Loads of Bologna”, that’s it. That’s what I ordered to impress a girl I really want to think the best of me. I need to pull out all the stops to get an in with the girl that I slammed the door on. I want to try and winover the girl who I’m pretty sure could bethegirl … and I bring her a fucking bologna sandwich.
Fucking bologna.
All this is to say that on top of being fucking pissed and in a foul mood, I’ve made some pretty piss-poor decisions yet again with Beau. It wouldn’t surprise me if she kicks me to the curb. Fucking hell, at this point, I can’t even blame her.
I pull up to the garage and quickly go to my saddle bags to grab the takeout. I got four personal pizzas, two with everything, two all meats. They barely fit in my saddlebags. A couple of the boxes, I had to turn sideways to get them to fit. That means they’re most likely fucked up.Fuck.Once I get them out, I throw them in the white bag that the boxes were originally stuffed into at Jack’s.
“Yeah, she’s going to kick my ass to the curb,” I mutter under my breath.
“What are you doing here?” I look up to see Gordo standing with another guy. I remember him from the party. I think they called him Eli.
“I’m supposed to meet with Beau.”
“Listen, man. I like you. Our kids are tight. Let’s not make this ugly. Beau doesn’t want you here,” Gordo says.
The man is trying to placate me. My lips twitch. Apparently, my girl didn’t tell anyone I was coming. “It’s cool, just tell Harper I’m here. If she says she doesn’t want to see me, I’m gone,” I tell him. I need to be easy here, too. I don’t want to cause issues with Gordo. Ty likes visiting his place when he has Slider.
“Eli, go tell Beau that BB is here.”
“Sure thing,” Eli replies, looking me over.
“You know, this may cause some issues,” Gordo tells me once we’re alone.
“Not sure I know what you mean,” I respond, lying through my teeth.
“Yeah, right,” he laughs. “I saw the way you were watching Apex at Slider’s party.”
“If there are issues, I’ll deal with Apex, brother to brother,” I tell him.
“Beau is special, BB. She doesn’t deserve being yanked around.”
“Man, I discovered that the hard way. I wouldn’t be here if I was planning on fucking up again.”
“That’s the thing about dealing with a woman, BB. You don’t plan on fucking up, it just happens,” Gordo says, delivering the God’s honest truth.
“This is true,” I admit. I’m saved from having to say anything else when Beau walks out, wearing jeans and a tee with a vintage Apache motorcycle on it. It’s sweet, but sweeter because of the way it shows off her cleavage and hugs her tits.
“Um … Hey, Hunter,” she says, nervously rubbing her hands down her jeans. Her hair is pulled up in a ponytail. This brings my gaze to the delicate curve of her neck and the shining diamond studs in her perfectly shaped ears—ears that I’ve had my lips against, whispering as my cock was thrusting into her.
Fuck me.My damn cock gets painfully hard at just the memory.
“Hey,” I answer as I hold up the takeout bags. “I brought lunch if you’re hungry, but I’m not sure I’d expect much. I’ve kind of had a shit day and just picked something up in a rush so I wouldn’t be late.”
She stares at the bag and then her gaze rakes over me. Something like relief moves over her face. “Those look like Jack’s takeout bags,” she replies, still watching and accessing me.
“They are,” I confirm.
“Please tell me one of those bags has a bologna sandwich in it,” she practically begs, and I feel something loosen inside of me.
“One of these bags has some bologna in it.”
She tilts her head to the side like she’s trying to figure me out. “What’s in the other bag?”
