Page 9 of Rex

Reeves’ head snaps up, and his bleary eyes finally meet my own.

“When did we become a couple? I always thought I’d do much better than you,” Reeves says.

I’m going to punch him repeatedly until I feel better and my mental health is not in question any longer.

“Did you and Lisa hook up last night, and why were you both in my bathroom?” I ask in the most patient voice I have ever heard myself use.

“Both are okay and just hungover, according to Candy. She said she gave them rides home. She’s still at Lisa’s and answered her phone,” Horse informs us as he takes his seat again.

“That’s good to hear,” I reply.

“I think I hooked up with Pigeon, and I don’t even swing that way. He’s a sexy bastard, though. Probably didn’t because he’d never fit in your tub. You know what? I think I’m still drunk off my ass,” Reeves states before dropping his head back to his folded arms and starts snoring immediately.

“What the fuck did he just say?” Pigeon shrieks from his seat at a nearby table. “Jesus H. Christ! First, James wants to do a body cavity search on me, and now Reeves is having drunken wet dreams about me! My wife will not be happy to know this!”

“Calm down, Pigeon. Reeves doesn’t even know his own name at the moment. Believe me, nobody has wet dreams about you. None of his ramblings have made sense yet,” I tell Pigeon in a calm voice. “Tell Ivy that your body is safe, is all hers, and she has our sympathies.”

When the food is ready, I fill my plate and then spend twenty minutes pushing it around the plate. I tentatively eat a few bites but don’t push my luck. With a stomach that’s still unsteady, I choose caution over nasty bathroom time. As soon as I’m able, I make my way to my bike and head for my condo. While I’m happy to be home and able to feel like crap without it drawing attention, it also gives my brain time to think about last night.

I have clear memories of hitting up several clubs with the whole group of us that went together. I remember Chubs, Lucy, and the others deciding to head home and leaving me, Reeves, and the two women at Club Ace. I remember the four of us returning to the clubhouse. My brain keeps showing me flashes of the night’s activities but not everything, and it’s frustrating. The saddest part of all this is that what must have been the best parts of the night are the ones I can’t remember.

Aria has intrigued me since she moved to Denver. I’ve kept that strictly to myself, though, because of everything Lucy, Chubs, and his family have recently gone through. Aria has been busy getting set up in her new dental practice and settling into her new home. She didn’t need me interfering with my attraction to her when she already had a lot on her plate.

Also, there’s Chubs to consider. He and I have always been close friends and club brothers, but he might be totally against a brother dating his sister. That’s if she’d even go on a date with me. I’m a biker, with technology abilities, but no real education. She’s a very well-educated, classy lady that comes from money. She could definitely do a lot better than me, but that’s not stopped my interest.

Chubs, Aria, and their brother Les are a tight-knit trio. They are fortunate enough to have a mother, Giana, who was, and still is, a big presence in their lives. Many of the members of The Devil’s Angels never had the sense of family Aria grew up with, including myself. Having to consider two brothers and a mother’s opinion of me was never something I thought I’d have to do. Les, especially, could be a problem. He’s still coming to terms with his brother being a biker, and I’m pretty sure it’s safe to assume he wouldn’t be thrilled with his sister dating one. Les isn’t afraid to speak his mind, and I know his opinion would holdsome weight with Aria. Basically, I’m not sure I’m good enough for someone like Aria. I don’t think her family would disagree with me on that, and my ego has taken a beating just thinking about it all.

Even knowing all that, I pick up my phone and shoot a text off to Aria.

Me: You okay?

Aria: Yeah. Headache but it’s manageable now.

Me: I feel like I need to apologize for last night.

I see the three little dots on my screen indicating she’s typing, but then they stop. Then, start up again. For several minutes, I stare at my phone waiting for her reply and getting more nervous as the minutes click by. Finally, Aria answers me.

Aria: Why would you feel that way? All of us are adults and made our own decisions. What part of last night are you apologizing for?

Me: The parts I don’t remember, I guess. Also, I should have stayed sober enough to make sure you were safe and I didn’t. I feel bad because your safety should have been a higher priority than another drink. It was irresponsible of me.

Aria: Thank you for that but it’s unnecessary. I drank too much too, even knowing that I shouldn’t have. What parts don’t you remember? The club?

Me: Memory is pretty sketchy once we returned to the clubhouse.

Again, the dots appear and disappear for several minutes. I realize I’m gripping my phone so tight my fingers are cramping, so I loosen my hold and wait. Finally, she replies.

Aria: So, what you’re saying is that you don’t remember anything that happened after we returned to the clubhouse? Seriously? None of it?

I cringe when I read her words because I can feel the disbelief and anger coming through a simple text.

Me: I have flashes, like snapshots, but not much more. Again, I feel like I should apologize for that.

Aria: No apology needed. Have a good day.

Ouch! I’ve been dismissed, and I know it’s not in a “we can talk later” kind of way.

Me: Aria, please. Can you fill in some blanks for me?

---