Page 34 of Biker Daddies

I chew on my thumbnail, nervous and unsure how to respond. I need to get past my shame. They obviously don’t care what happened, or they don’t care as much as I do.

“You can do this,” I say to myself, dropping the keys in the cupholder. My thumbs hover above the keyboard. “God, I don’t know what to say. I said everything I needed to the other night.” I hide my face in my hand and groan. I still can’t believe I admitted to them I like them and find them attractive.

I can’t possibly ruin things more than I already have, right?

“Here goes nothing,” I mumble to no one else but myself.

My fingers fly across the keyboard, quickly typing the speech I’ve replayed in my head the entire week since my drunken mishap.

Me: I’ve been debating on what to say. You three make me nervous and I want to live under this rock I’ve found because the thought of confronting you after everything is horrific. But I want to apologize. I shouldn’t have texted you three. You took care of me and I put you in a bad position because you’re loyal to my dad. I asked you not to tell him and that’s not okay. You three shouldn’t have had to drop everything to come take care of me because I was irresponsible. I’m sorry and I hate how I acted. I just hope you can forgive me.

I end my paragraph-long text with a heart emoji and press send, then release the breath I held while typing that text. They make me so nervous. No other men have ever made me feel like this. What does that make me? Am I a whore because I want three guys? I know a lot of people wouldn’t understand, especially my dad.

I roll my eyes at myself as I start the car. I act like I have a chance with these three. It could never happen, for the most obvious reasons.

One, I’m too young in their eyes.

Two, I’m the daughter of their best friend. They do not see me as anything else.

My phone vibrates before I can pull out of the parking lot and I check it.

It’s Alto.

Alto: We’d gladly take care of you all over again, sweetheart. Come to the shop. Now. So we can all talk.

I gasp, knowing Alto isn’t asking me, but telling me to come.

Me: I don’t know if that’s a good idea.

Bane: Get your ass here, Harlow. Now.

I shiver from Bane’s tone. I can almost hear the deep, gravelly tone, filled with impatience. I’ve always loved how he sounds. There is no nonsense in his voice when he speaks. He always means what he says and every word that leaves his mouth sounds like a threat.

Me: Okay, I’m on my way.

My stomach twists with nerves when my mind races with what they could possibly want to talk about. What if they tell me they don’t want to see me again? No, they wouldn’t do that. While they are badass bikers, I don’t think they would ever treat me that way.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I tell myself as I take a right on the highway that will take me to them. I shouldn’t have agreed. Nothing good can come out of this.

I lift my left leg onto the seat while I drive, getting comfortable. My dad has caught me too many times driving like this and has yelled at me about how unsafe it is.

I know it’s not safe, but I like to be comfortable when I drive.

It doesn’t take long to get to Vultures Ink. When I pull in, I park on the side of the building and hope they don’t see me. I need a minute. When I park, I look through my windshield and up at the building. It’s nice. It’s brick, but painted black, and their sign is red with a vulture on a bike.

I’ve always wanted a tattoo but I’ve never had the guts. I don’t do well with pain. I don’t like anything that will hurt and I tend to stay away from dangerous activities just so I don’t break any bones. I know the men are amazing tattoo artists. I’ve seen their work all around the clubhouse because Vultures Ink is where all the members come to get their tattoos. When they patch in, they also get the Venom Vultures MC tattooed on them.

If they ever leave or get their patch stripped, they get the tattoo burned off. It isn’t pleasant. Once you’re in the MC, you’re in, and the only way out is pain.

No thank you.

I tilt my head back against the headrest and shut my eyes, gathering all my emotions and nerves. I’ll be here for ten minutes, maybe. Then I’ll leave, we’ll go our separate ways, and we can move on with our lives. My crushes on them will fade in time, maybe, or I’ll make myself go on a date.

A knock on my window has me jump and scream, placing a hand to my chest. When I look out the driver’s side window, I see Alto standing there. He has his hands in his pockets as he leans down so I can see his face.

And damn, what a handsome face.

I love his eyes. They are so different. One is bright blue and the other is brown, but a pretty brown. It has shades of gold and green.

---