Page 12 of My Biker

Dove sat down next to Pirate, and he set an empty plate in front of her. “Hello, darlin’,” he drawled.

“I’m here for the food, handsome. Save the charm for someone else.” She grabbed a plate of wings and slid four onto her plate. “Did you guys get ranch?”

Sloane closed her eyes and sighed.

“Your friend is pretty good at making herself comfortable,” I called softly. Her hand was still in mine, and she wasn’t trying to escape me this time.

“Dove has never met a stranger in her life. Swear to god she could befriend an alligator in the bayou.” Sloane opened her eyes and looked up at me. “I’m actually pretty jealous of that fact.”

I shrugged, “You seem to be doing just fine, babe.”

“Running into an elevator, almost falling on my butt, and lying about my name is doing fine?” she asked. “I do much better with my nose in a book.”

I shrugged, “I mean, you definitely made my afternoon interesting.” That was not a lie at all. Before running into Sloane, I had planned on heading up to my room and spending the rest of the night watching TV with Throttle. “And if you have your nose in a book all the time, you’re missing out on life.”

Earlier, and this right here, was a hundred times better.

“The real world is a mess, Aero. I do better with my nose in a book where drama happens, but it’s all solved within a few pages.” Her eyes connected with mine, and she smiled sadly. “Books are safe.”

Well, if that didn’t make me want to get to know Sloane even more, I didn’t know what would. What happened in her world to make her think living in a book was better? Sure, I could see how reading could be an escape, but the real world couldn’t be that bad, right?

I pulled out the chair next to her and motioned for her to sit. “Well, why don’t you spend the night in my world, babe, and then you can tell me if your books are better.”

She huffed but sat down. “Your world seems to be just like one of my books,” she mumbled. “I just need to know which one of you guys is the prez.”

“Yarder,” Fade answered. “He’s up in his room with Compass because they’re both sticks in the mud who are always on alert because they think shit is always going to hit the fan.”

“And are they normally right?” Sloane asked.

Fade shrugged, “I mean, yeah, but it’s not much fun living in fear of shit happening. It’s better to live and take the hit from life when it comes.”

Dove grabbed an empty plate and put it in front of Sloane. “You need to eat.” She licked her finger and reached for another chicken wing. “The wings are okay.”

“Girl,” Sloane laughed. “I would say they are more than okay with all those clean bones on your plate.”

I sat next to Sloane and leaned back in my chair.

I watched Sloane tentatively put a few mozzarella sticks and potato skins on her plate.

Thankfully, she wasn’t one of those girls who didn’t want to eat in front of people. That was something I wouldn’t be able to handle. We all ate, and there wasn’t a reason to hide it.

“So,” Cue Ball called. “You’re one of the book chicks, right?” he called to Dove and Sloane.

Dove raised her hand and shook it. “I am not. I’m here as Sloane’s book hauler. I also ogled the cover models, but that’s about it.”

“And also got drunk off your butt,” Sloane laughed.

“Wait, wait,” Smoke called. “How the hell did you get drunk at a book signing?”

“You’d be surprised at how wild Sloane and her bookies are.” Dove grabbed a mozzarella stick and poured some marinara sauce on her plate.

“Bookies?” I asked.

Sloane glanced at me. “Uh, that’s just what Dove calls us.” She cleared her throat. “People who go to signings.”

“Hey, it’s better than book sluts,” Dove called. “I called her that for a little bit, but she did not like that.” Dove wiggled her eyebrows and pursed her lips. “Even though it’s true.”

Sloane’s cheeks flushed pink, and her eyes dropped to her plate. “God, please help me,” she whispered.

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