Page 6 of Biker Daddies

Colt strides out the door first and I lock up behind me.

“She better not be drunk. I’ll be furious. Middle of the damn night,” Bane grumbles under his breath as he mounts his bike.

All of our bikes are custom from the MC’s bike shop. Bane’s handlebars are long, and the body is painted a midnight black, but in the right light it shifts into a deep red.

“Man, I remember when I restored this beauty,” Colt says, again, just like he does every single time he gets on his bike. His is a classic. He found it when it was nothing but a tossed-away frame in a junkyard.

“Yeah, we know. Why don’t you tell us again for the thousandth time?” Bane hooks his helmet on, his sarcasm obvious.

Colt doesn’t catch on. “Well, I was seventeen years old—”

“Oh my god. Shut the hell up. We know, Colt. We know. I’ll pay you thirty bucks if you don’t speak for the next three minutes.” Bane’s bike grumbles to life.

Colt pinches his lips together, bouncing on his heels, dying to speak.

He won’t be able to make it.

I remain calm, not letting Colt’s story bother me at all. Colt is proud of his bike. He loves it. I’ll gladly listen to whatever makes my friend happy, but Bane doesn’t have that kind of patience.

“But I got such a good deal on it,” Colt blurts after two minutes, and Bane rolls his eyes, driving away from us before Colt can blurt out his story.

I chuckle, following Bane on my bike, then Colt follows.

The night is dark, clear, and the stars are out by the thousands. It would be the perfect night for a long ride, but as we drive down the road, the desert on either side of us, I know I don’t have time to enjoy it.

If Harlow is drunk, a part of me will want to take her to her father, and the other part of me is going to want to spank her ass for putting herself in harm’s way.

And I have no right to think about that.

We’re riding for about five minutes before Bane is pulling off the road. Confused, we follow him and he parks, stands, and unzips his pants.

“What the fuck, Bane?”

“I gotta piss.” He shrugs without a care in the world.

Colt chuckles and I lean against my bike, waiting for Bane to be done. The man runs on his time, no one else’s.

“Do you think she’s okay?” Colt asks me. “Do we take her to Prez when we find her?”

“Nah,” I say, kicking the sand with the tip of my boot. “Come on, she’s only trying to have fun with her friends. She’s her own person. We shouldn’t have to tell Grizzly everything when the entire point of her living on campus was to have her own life. What if someone told on us when we were that young? We would be pissed. And she wouldn’t trust us anymore.”

The loud stream of Bane still pissing sounds in the background.

“Jesus Christ. You couldn’t do that at the shop?” I yell at him.

“Didn’t have to at the shop,” the grump explains.

“I call bullshit on that,” I retort.

“Why do we care about her trust?” Colt practically whispers.

“We shouldn’t. At all. I’d rather not have her pissed at us though. “

“She’s pretty.”

I jerk my head up and press my finger against my mouth to tell him to be quiet. “You can’t go saying shit like that. No. No.”

“I’m only saying what we’re all thinking.”

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