Page 12 of Fall onto me

Brett can barely walk; Kate and I don’t have the strength to hold him up. So outside we set him on a bench near a string of unfamiliar bikes, nearly falling over from our own drunkenness.

I stumble in the shoes Kate told me to wear. The thin heel digs into the sidewalk edge, and I tip over. It’s all slow motion. Kate slurs, ‘Nooo!’ but it’s too late, and I’m tumbling. But I never hit the ground. Instead, a pair of large arms encircles around my body and rights me to a standing position.

“Woah.” I whip around, wide-eyed and nervous. A little of my buzz goes away when I see the stranger. He’s Foster’s height, which is a little over six feet. But this man has a lot more hair, curls that remind me of Jason Mamoa, and a beard to match. “You good?”

I nod, and he’s still holding my shoulders. “Yeah, thanks.”

I attempt to wiggle away, but he leans forward and as he speaks, a heavy dose of whiskey blankets my face. “Wanna ride?”

He nods his head towards a bike, and if I’m being honest, it’s a gaudy thing. Deep purple with equally flashy lights underneath.

“She has her owwwwn.” Kate chimes in from the bench with a sing-song voice before she returns to comforting Brett.

“Is that right?” He moves closer, and I step away until my back meets a pole and I’m cemented in place. “That’s pretty hot.”

“My boyfriend thinks sooo.”

Purple bike guy slowly cranes his neck left, then right. “Is that him?” He asks, gesturing to Brett.

“No.” I peek around the parking lot for Foster. “But he’ll be here soon.”

If I were sober, I could dart away from him, but this pole is giving me stability. “Mac.” He grins. “What’s yours?”

“Shadow,” I tell him, growing increasingly annoyed. “Can you step back?”

“Oh,” he purrs. “A feisty one, aren’t you? Listen, Shadow.” His hand traces the length of my arm, and I tug it away. “Your boyfriend is a fucking idiot for allowing you to come here alone, you’re too hot for—”

A screech of brakes stops him, and the slam of a door jars me. Foster has pulled his classic black challenger onto the damn sidewalk in front of the club. He grabs Mac by the shoulder and whirls him around. “What the fuck is up?” he sneers, not at me, but at Mac.

“Boyfriend?” Mac drunkenly laughs.

Foster cuts his eyes to me. “You okay?”

I give a slow nod, but it doesn’t calm him down. “She’s more than okay. I was keeping her company.”

Foster nods and bares his teeth in a humorless smile before pummeling Mac in the face. The man drops to the ground, and before Foster can continue his punishment, Mac’s friends, the group of bikers, start rushing our way.

I fumble to gain my footing for an escape. Foster extends his hand for me to step over Mac, who is on the ground and groaning. Then, he grabs Brett and hoists him up to get him in the backseat as I help Kate.

He takes off once we’re in and places his inked hand on my leg in that protective, sexy way he does. “You good, Shadow?”

“Now I am.” I grin, thankful it’s dark because I’m sure I look ridiculous. I’m still tipsy, but the altercation took some of the stumbling edge away, I think.

“Who the fuck does that guy think he is?”

“He’s Mac.” I roll my eyes. “And he’s got an ugly ass bike.”

Foster laughs, appreciating the jab at the man who was hitting on me. “What was it?”

“A purple Honda.” I fake gag. “With matching purple neons blasting underneath.”

“Eww,” he agrees. “Fucking out of towners.” The way he says it with venom and revenge in his tone makes me nervous. We don’t need any more enemies.

Brett is trashed, leaning against Kate in the backseat. Foster keeps darting his eyes to the rearview. “Brett, listen man, I like you and all, but if you throw up on my car, we’re going to throw hands.” He’s playing, a little.

Brett laughs, slapping Foster’s shoulder. “God!” He sighs, tossing his head back. “I can’t believe I was in love with your angry ass.” I chuckle, peering back to look at my friend. “Warren is so much nicer than youuuuu,” he sings. “Call him, for me? Please?” He asks no one in particular before passing out on Kate’s shoulder.

“I’ll do it.” I smile, reaching back and grabbing Brett’s phone from his lap to dial the number.

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