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Brody

Drinking it up at 10 in the morning? Is my big bro finally embracing the real biker life? I approve.

Silas

This isn’t an invitation to a fucking party. We have business to attend to that requires Trevan’s presence, and Elena will be opening up the shop, so it’s close. I’ll have four guys at the shop waiting.

Phoenix

Are we still on high alert?

Silas

When aren’t we?

Phoenix

You know what I mean.

Silas

Have some intel. Will fill you in there.

Brody

Fine. I get it. All work, no play. But your boy will play after. There’s that wicked hot server who just started working at the diner next to The Crimson Apple.

Silas

The one who probably spat in your food after you gave her that obscene pickup line while we were eating there the other day?

Brody

That’s called foreplay, brother.

Phoenix

What that’s called is delusional.

Brody

Ouch, man, ouch.

Silas

Ten o’clock, assholes.

I’d finally responded thirty minutes later. After I’d washed and rinsed Elena’s hair and body, dried her off with a towel, then got onto my knees in front of her and slathered that apple-scented lotion over every inch of her skin.

Guilt eating me whole as I’d given my meager reply.

Me

I’ll be there.

And there I was, brow dripping with the manifestation of that guilt as I stomped across the worn hardwood of the bar. It didn’t open until noon, so the only people there were Silas, Brody, and Phoenix who were tucked in a darkened, private corner, plus the bartender, Pete, who was restocking the libations for the day.

Dude was not quite privy to what we did. Figuring us little more than felons. It was the way we had to keep it, though I had a hunch he knew there was something more to our story.