Page 147 of Cherry Beats

Bourbon studied me. I knew there were a million things he had to say. Instead, he let his soft, familiar smile grow, and I thought I saw a twinkle of moisture gather in his eyes. “I hope my daughter grows up to be half the woman you are.”

“With you as a father, she’s going to be a million times better.”

“Don’t stay away forever.”

“This place is my home. You guys are my home. Even when I’m not here, I’ll never really leave you.”

“Where are you going to go first?” Molly asked quietly.

Before I could answer, there was a hard knock on the glass doors of BB’s. All three of us turned to stare at it, wondering who the hell could be there so early in the day.

I saw a motorbike and a man dressed in leather. He had a small envelope in his hand as he flipped up the visor on his helmet and waited as the three of us turned to exchange questioning looks.

“I’ll get it,” I told them, a nervous flutter coming to life in my stomach.

Opening the door, I took the biker in, glancing up to stare at his face. I would have put money on it being the same guy who asked me to sign Presley’s jacket, all those years ago.

“Can I help you?”

“I have a delivery for a…” He paused to glance down at the letter again. “Mr Bourbon? Is that his real name?” he asked, looking up at me in confusion.

“No.” I laughed. “His real name is—”

“Let’s not go there, Tessa Lisbon!” Bourbon shouted from inside BB’s.

Widening my eyes, I smiled a flat smile at the biker. “Sorry. Secrets need to stay secrets.”

“Sure. Sure.” He handed over the letter, and I turned it over in my hands. “Hey. Don’t I know you?”

I looked up and waited.

“You’re that chick Presley West got to sign his leather jacket.” He pointed a finger at me. “I remember you now.” His smile disappeared suddenly. “Holy shit. You’re that girl he took on stage and declared his love for, aren’t you?”

“I—”

“Awe, man. Way to go.” He bounced on the balls of his feet, his excitement returning as he nodded his head like some leather-clad spaceman with that helmet on his head. “Hey, next time you see him, tell him I love his songDirty, Dirty, Hurt Me.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” It was impossible not to smile around the guy. “Do you have anything for me to sign?”

He pulled a little black device out of his jacket and held it out to me. “Just give it a squiggle with your finger here.”

“You don’t look like a guy who uses the word squiggle,” I said, feeding off his energy.

“I have three sisters. I may look like a meathead, but I know every My Little Pony from growing up.”

“Good knowledge to have.” I chuckled, handing the device back to him. “See you later.” I reached to grab the door, only for the biker to step forward and stop me.

“Are you two still a thing?” he asked.

I stared into his eyes, the only part of his face I could see.

“We’ll always be a thing.”

“Cool. Tell him I said hi.”

“Sure.” I smiled, not wanting to disappoint him.

Satisfied, he left, and I turned back to Bourbon and Molly, handing over the envelope to the man himself while I went back to leaning over the bar.

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