Her lips twist into a coy smile. “He came into the bar a few times. He was hot and closed off, you know, just my type.”
“Dana.”
“He could be my one true love, Tay.”
“I’ve heard that before,” I grin at her. There is no point in talking her out of this. I literally have heard this more times than I can count.
The drive takes a while, and I watch the surroundings change to the more affluent area of Locust Point. We never go this far for a night out. What on earth is she getting us into? That soon becomes apparent when we pull up at a bar that has a lot of motorcycles out front.
My head snaps to her as the cab stops.
“Before you get mad, it’s a nice place. The woman who runs it is cool and although there are bikers here, she keeps them in line. I promise, you’re safe here. Raven would kick anyone’s ass if they bother us. Beyond how we want to be bothered at least.”
Well, we’re here now. We get out of the cab and I glance around. It’s not exactly an industrial area but there are a couple of warehouse-style buildings next to the bar. It is well lit and there are houses further back, as well as a church.
It’s the bikers I’m not so sure about.
We head over, passing by rows of motorcycles and a few cars and step inside the bar. I won’t lie, I was expecting some dive with sawdust on the floor, sweat dripping down the walls and gangs of old men with long beards and leather jackets.
That isn’t what greets me. This place is nice, modern, with oak wood floors, dark but stylishly decorated with booths. It has tall tables and stools and a long bar with a mirrored wall behind it.
There are two women behind the bar serving people, wearing t-shirts with the name of the bar. The tables are occupied by a mixture of people. Yes, there are bikers, who are obvious by their leather vests but they’re all in one corner chatting and laughing.
The place is packed, but the music isn’t loud, there is an air of people having a good time about it and I instantly relax. Dana was right. A gorgeous woman with tattoo sleeves, sleek black hair, wearing a deep red sleeveless dress with a dangerously low V-neck spots Dana and holds up a hand waving her over. Her look is as stylish as the bar, not slutty.
Instantly I hate myself for thinking that. We make our way through the tables to the bar and the woman comes out and gives Dana a hug. We’re introduced, and she gives me a friendly smile and wave. There is a moment where she watches me though, gauging how I’m going to react.
I choose not comment on the bar at all and that seems to satisfy her.
“What are we drinking tonight ladies?”
“Cocktails,” Dana laughs. “Lots of cocktails.”
Raven smirks and hands us both menus. Menus. Jesus, I really am a judgmental ass. She takes us to a table close to the bar but near the back of the room so we won’t be bothered. It’s probably the best table in the whole place.
“You can relax,” Dana tells me.
“Let’s pretend I didn’t have preconceived ideas about this place and move on.”
She laughs and looks at her menu. We settle on what we want and Dana gives our order to one of the staff who says she will be right back. Raven is chatting with a few people at the bar, laughing and pouring drinks.
I can’t help but stare at her tattoos. They are beautiful, like she is. But they remind me of someone else. Someone I’ve been trying really damn hard not to think about. The server returns with our cocktails, setting down napkins first and tells us to give her a shout when we’re ready for more.
Dana sips through her straw and lets out a sigh of pleasure. “Try it,” she encourages. “They’re orgasmic.”
“Well, that’s an endorsement. And probably the only orgasm I’m getting any time soon.”
Dana laughs. We chat a bit about work, and I tell her that it wasn’t so bad. In fact, I’m happy to be back because it means I get back to some form of normalcy.
“Don’t put pressure on yourself,” she touches my arm. “Just let things happen, don’t shy away and don’t throw yourself at things either.”
“So go with the flow,” I sip my cocktail. “Got it.”
We both laugh. We’re not too far from the men in leather vests and I try to see what it says on the back but no one is sitting the right way. Dana catches me looking.
“They’re called the Blackhawk Disciples. And yes, they’re a biker gang but Raven grew up around them and said they’re pussycats.”
“If you believe that,” I give her a side-eyed look.
