“He’s been tutoring me in science. Capone here and his brothers are helping me get my GED,” I tell her, hoping to deflect the awkwardness.
“I suck at science too,” she tells me with a grin.
“I can tutor you, too, if you like,” Capone offers.
Lucy looks flustered, as if she’s looking for a way to say no without looking bad.
“You’re more than welcome to join my next study session. Misery loves company and all that jazz.”
She chuckles. “Maybe.” Turning back to Capone, with her pad and pen poised and ready, she waits for his order.
Instead, he reaches up and takes it from her before scribbling his name and number across it. He tears it off, hands her back the pad and pen, then stands and towers over her. He folds the note with his number, his eyes on her face. “I’ll take a tuna melt with fries and a Dr. Pepper.” He slips the note into the frontof her apron pocket, eliciting a gasp from Lucy before stepping away from the booth.
“Be right back,” he calls over his shoulder as he heads to the restrooms.
“Did that just happen?” she asks herself more than me.
“It did. Also, so that you know, he invited me here just so he could see you. He thought if he brought his friend, who is a girl but not his girlfriend, you wouldn’t find him so intimidating.”
“I don’t find him intimidating,” she answers automatically before sighing. “Okay, that’s a lie, but it’s not a biker thing, I swear. It’s a hot guy thing.”
“Yeah, coming from someone who has spent time up close and personal with a lot of them, it doesn’t get any easier.” I blow out a frustrated breath.
“Wait, so you don’t build up any immunity at all?”
“Well, I’m in love with a man, so that helps make the others fade into the background.”
“You found a man who can compete with a biker’s juju?”
“I found a biker of my own,” I admit with a wry grin. “He’s also an MMA fighter.”
“I’m so screwed.”
“If it helps, I’ve never seen Capone get like this over a woman. He really does like you. I say, why not give him a shot? Life’s too short to play it safe. What’s the worst that can happen? You end up in a rocking chair sixty years from now, telling your grown granddaughters about the smoking hot biker who blew your mind.”
She opens her mouth before snapping it shut again. She bites her lip, her eyes flitting to where the restrooms are. “I’d better put your orders in.”
“Okay.” I watch her leave, knowing she needs a minute or two to collect herself.
When Capone comes out, he sits back in his spot and watches her as she moves around the room, talking to other customers and coworkers.
“I’m starting to feel like a third wheel.”
“Shit, I’m sorry.”
“You’ve got it bad,” I tease.
He shakes his head and grins, not even trying to deny it. “I see my friends settling down, and I want what they’ve got. Sure, when I joined the MC, part of the appeal was the women. I won’t lie about that, but I’m not twenty-two anymore. I guess the shit that matters the most seems really fucking trivial at my age.”
“You’re talking like you’re an old man.”
“I’m thirty-four.”
“Thirty-four is the new twenty-four.”
“I doubt that somehow.”
“Capone, seriously, you’re hot. You have all your own hair and teeth, you have a well-paid job, and you don’t live at home with your parents. You’re already way above the curve.”
