Page 4 of Accidental Abduction

“What are you wearing?”

He smirked, his eyebrows dancing before he leaned in. “Gonna wear my bike helmet and leather pants. Haven’t decided if I’m going full shirtless or just a tight t-shirt.”

“That’s a costume?”

“Dude, I think you underestimate the power of a little mystery. Inked biker guy dressed up like some girl’s wet dream. There’s no way I’m going home alone. These college girls are into bad boys and masked men.”

Sounded like he was setting himself up for trouble, but if it was all consensual, I wouldn’t judge what people were into. If he wanted to have some anonymous sex wearing a motorcycle helmet andthe girl was into it, that was his business. As long as he didn’t do it inside my bar.

“No fucking in the back room again.”

“That was one time.”

“My fucking sister walked in on you balls deep in some random girl and you didn’t stop. If you’re gonna fuck randoms in public, take ’em next door to your shop.”

“I didn’t know Haz was gonna walk in. And it’s not my fault she screamed and tripped over a crate of Jack in the hallway.”

A few years back, I’d had to rush my sister to the emergency room when she’d walked in on him. She ended up with stitches in her leg from where she fell, and she still couldn’t look Reid in the eye.

It didn’t help matters when he’d kept right on fucking the girl until he came because he didn’t hear Hazel’s scream over the screeching of the girl he had pinned to the wall.

I’d come running to find my sister bleeding with a piece of glass from a broken whiskey bottle hanging out of her calf in the hallway and my best friend with his pants around his knees and his deflating dick hanging out.

He was lucky it hadn’t been another employee, because at least I knew my sister wouldn’t sue me. It wasn’t the first time I’d caught people fucking in the bar—it kinda came with the territory—but I couldn’t exactly kick my best friend out and ban him from the premises.

“You’ve just turned into this passionless version of yourself and wish you could get away with having sex in your bar,” Reid teased, and I knew part of his statement was true. I had changed, but I was also determined to keep my private life away from my career.

Viv had tried to come onto me a few times when she’d stayed past closing, but promising to go down on her after I’d had a shower had distracted her enough that she finally let it go. I spent enough time in this place. I didn’t want to have to sanitize the counter or the storeroom when we could just go find a bed. Andfucking in a bar bathroom after drunk college kids had done God knew what all night in it had never sounded like fun.

Before I could keep arguing with him about my perfectly normal sex life, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Viv: Are you still coming over today? We need to talk about the party.

“That her?”

“Yeah. I need to get over there. She wants to talk about the party.”

“Good luck, man. Stay strong and don’t cave in to some terrible couple costume. If you show up as some douchewad Disney prince, I’m taking pictures, so when you wonder where your balls went, I can show you the exact moment she snipped them off to keep in her tiny little designer purse.”

He took off while I finished up, once again wondering if part of what he’d said was valid. Viv had been more of a party girl when we’d met, and we’d gotten into plenty of trouble together the first year we were hanging out, but somewhere along the way, our paths had diverged.

My degree in restaurant management had made it a seamless transition when my dad decided spending eight to ten hours a day standing behind a bar wasn’t what he wanted anymore. I couldn’t blame him. He’d given a lot of himself to the bar and when my mom had cut back on her hours at the hospital, he’d wanted to rekindle some parts of their relationship they’d lost along the way.

They were disgustingly in love again after settling into partial retirement. They finally had a good work-life balance and could focus on their relationship. I knew his hours had caused problems between them when we were younger. Haz didn’t remember the hushed conversations behind closed doors, or the months he’d slept in the apartment above the bar when I was in high school.

Part of me recognized the signs of a crumbling relationship when Viv harped on me for working too much, but I never gave her shit when she’d travel for work once a month.

Another text came through as I was locking up, and I knew I’d stalled long enough.

Viv: If you’re not coming over here, at least have the decency to let me know.

Hudson: Showering and then I’ll be over. Give me 45 minutes.

My bike was tucked under an overhang next to the back door in a small fenced in area secured with a padlock because some drunken idiot had tried to ride off with it a few years ago.

The weather would start changing soon, but as long as I could, I’d take my bike to work. There was something invigorating about taking sharp turns at speed and feeling my stomach bottom out as I wove through the winding mountain roads. Viv hated riding with me, so if I knew we had plans, I’d take my restored Chevelle to work, but even lately she’d be badgering me to sell it to buy a moresensiblecar.

She drove a Tesla, and while it was nice, there was no way I’d be caught dead in a car that pretentious. Classic muscle cars had always been my passion, and with all the hours I’d put into restoring mine, I wasn’t willing to give it up.

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