Page 10 of Throttle

Who was she fooling? She lives there now.

Once again, I glance at the plastic boards. “Really? Because isn’t picking out paint colors mean you are, in fact, moving in?”

“I'm sick of the same old white walls. If Venom thinks I’m going to be living in a colorless life, he’s got another thing coming. When! When I make the move.”

“Sure. Whatever you say.” I grin. “Since black like his soul is unlikely, I'd choose this one instead. It’s subtle.”

“Mmm. That could work. Thanks, girl.” She studies the square. “But don’t think I didn’t hear the dark soul jab.”

“I’m kidding. I know he found love and stuff. But you’re welcome. Because what are friends for? Except to help each other pick out paint colors for the house they aren’t moving into.”

Angel and Venom are a rare kind. But they couldn’t be any more perfect for each other. He was the last person we expected her to fall in love with, for sure. President of our once arch-rival biker club. Despite that, he changed his club for the better and is forever loyal and faithful to her.

“I enjoy being prepared. For when the day comes.”

I open my mouth to tell her the big day is already happening, but a loud laugh, more like an obnoxious giggle, echoes from across the room. It crushes me seeing Throttle with other women. It’s a sharp object through the chest, watching the hang-around suck his face.

Who can fault her? I just wish it didn’t hurt so bad.

I pretend to see nothing and distract myself with something, anything, behind the bar.

“I think it’s time for you to move on from this unhealthy crush you have,” Angel states, rolling her eyes at Throttle’s display.

“I do not know what you’re talking about.”

“I get it. You always say that, but we all know the truth. Quit trying to deny it. It's pointless.”

Frozen in place, I hold a glass under the warm, soapy water. “What do you mean, you all know?” Oh, God. All I need is for everyone to find out and for it to get back to Throttle.

“Oh, come on, girlfriend. The entire club knows about the two of you.”

“There is no us.” I wince, pathetically.

Angel agrees with a shrug. “The best solution to all this is a dose of Angel's remedy.”

“I don't think a career of being a hooker or escort is right for me. No offense.”

Those days are no longer part of her life. A life of secrecy. Stuck under the control of a mafia boss. Venom played a role in ensuring she would never have to endure such actions ever again.

“You’re hilarious. I enjoy your jokes, but... all I'm suggesting is for you to let a man take you out. If I have to witness you acting as a beaten puppy whenever Throttle is near a girl, I'll go mad. I hate seeing you hurt.”

She might be right. Every guy who's asked me out in the past year, I’ve rejected hoping for Throttle to confess his undying love for me. I can't keep waiting for something that will never happen.

“You’re off tomorrow night, right?” she asks, flipping her braid over her opposite shoulder.

“I am, but I should study. It's hard to manage.” If I let myself fall behind, it would be impossible to recover. Angel is one of the few who knows of my online schooling.

“I won’t keep you out until the wee hours of the morning. I promise.”

Before I have time to protest, Jules walks over, rubbing her small yet swollen belly. “Yes! Please take me. Wherever you’re going. I don’t care. Take me.”

Pregnancy suits her well. No one deserves the ever-after like her and Charger.

“Uh, your fiancé would kill me if he knew I took you to a bar. Carrying his unborn child. Yeah, sorry, pass.”

“What the heck? I can decide for myself.” Jules pauses. “You’re right, it’s a terrible idea.” With a sigh, she leans on the counter.

“I’m playing wing woman for Tequila,” Angel says.

---