October 2026 Drake - Part 9

Drake - Part 9

Prompt: Back to school…

(Trigger Warning: Motorcycle accident, no fatalities)

I eased off the gas, seeing the first school bus of the year slow at the entrance to his housing complex. A dozen sleepy-eyed teenagers, with backpacks slung over their shoulders, waited for the doors to open in the early morning light.

The sound of my engine garnered me a few looks. One gangly teen stared, though. I grinned behind his full mask, having seen this kid before checking out my baby. I walked his motorcycle closer, enjoying the wide-eyed stare the teen gave me.

“You like?” I called out. The boy nodded. “Okay, you come by when I’m home tonight. I’ll give you a closer look, and if your mom or dad says it’s okay, I’ll take you for a ride. They have to come tell me, though, alright?”

The teen nodded eagerly, then raced for the bus when the driver beeped the horn.

I laughed even as I thought about the logistics of making that kid happy. I’d skip wearing my patch if they came by. The Kings had a pretty good rep in Brawley, but not everyone knew them. There was no sense scaring the kid’s ‘rents. I revved the engine, lifted my feet to the forward floorboards, and headed toward work, wondering if Grant could swing by tonight as well. “Mr. Respectable Realtor” would be a great buffer with insecure parents.

The going was slow; traffic a nightmare. Cars were filled with parents, either with plans to drop their children off at school or to meet the bus there so they could snap one more picture. I recalled the picture frame hanging in my parents’ house, the one with all twelve grades, a photo of me filling every little oval. My dad always complained about how much the official school photographs cost, but he still paid it when Mom batted her eyes at him.

Now that school had started, Grant’s life as a realtor had finally slowed. It ‌amazed me how many parents moved during July and August. It made sense; I just hadn’t thought about it before I barely saw my boyfriend for the second half of the summer. And those poor kids were back at school before Labor Day!

Guess that was a blessing growing up on the East Coast. We rarely started before the holiday unless Labor Day was late, but snow days were few and far between there. Here in the land of the Rockies, a lot of these students would snowmobile in come January.

It wasn’t long into my shift when we got the call of a motorcycle versus vehicle accident. I froze, fearing the worst and hoping for the best. Maybe it wasn’t a King. Maybe it wasn’t one of my dumbass brothers who never wore their helmet. Maybe it was a simple case of road rash and not a broken skull.

“Drake!”

I sped-walked to the dedicated computer that EMS and the Paramedics used to document incoming patients. “Who?” I said through gritted teeth when all I wanted to do was shout.

Amanda’s head popped up from what she’d been reading. She stared at me, wide-eyed. “It’s a King. Looks like he got run off the road. Road rage because of the school traffic.”

“Fuck.” I rounded the desk and peered over her shoulder. There was no last name, but the documentation clearly said “Ryan, Vengeful Kings” under identification. I cursed. He was one of the aforementioned dumbasses, unless he rode with me.

“Road rash, dislocated shoulder, possible concussion.” She tapped the screen. “He’s awake but disoriented.”

Amanda twisted to look at me, grabbing my arm. “Are you okay to take this, or do you want me to assign someone else?”

“You damn well better assign me to him. If he’s combative, I’m the only one here who can deal with him.”

She narrowed her eyes. “We’ve got security. Should I put them on standby?”

I rubbed my jaw. Having seen some of my brothers suffer from PTSD, I understood her caution. Hell, I might have made it worse with what I said. Would it hurt anyone to have them standing ready? No. Better to be safe all around.

“Okay, but they only step in on my say-so. Understood?” He hated using the tone he hadn’t used since he’d been deployed, but back then it had saved lives, so he couldn’t feel too bad about it.

Amanda nodded. “I understand. I’ll make sure the guards do, too.”

She called over the two police officers, and Amanda and I filled them in. With the sirens blare growing louder, I made sure I had their attention before I said, “I’m going to tell you one more thing. Ryan usually carries a gun strapped to an ankle holster. He won’t let anyone touch it, but I’m hoping he’ll make an exception for me.”

“We have those individual lock-boxes we got as part of that pilot program,” Officer Roberts said.

“Excellent. I’d forgotten about those. Can you grab one? We’ll lock it up before we roll him inside.”

Roberts nodded, heading off to retrieve a lockbox, while the other officer followed Amanda and I out to meet the ambulance. We put on gloves as we watched ‌the bus roll in and park, then grabbed the rear door handles.

Ryan was cursing up a storm. “I’m fine. Get your goddamn hands off me. Don’t you dare stick me with that needle! Take these fucking restraints off. I don’t need no damn hospital. Just take me to the clubhouse.”

I checked the scene, noting the worried, tight expressions on the two medics and the officer sitting parallel to Ryan’s legs. So the gun was a known issue. Good to know. The cop jumped out first, hand already on the butt of his gun. Oh, hell no. We didn’t need any more injuries at the moment. I had to shut this down hard. “Ryan! Shut the fuck up and let them do their job.”

My VP did a comically slow pan, glaring at me, before he grabbed the back of his head. “Aw, fuck, Doc. Fine.” He gingerly lay back on the gurney and let us pull him out.

Roberts approached with the open lockbox.

“What’s that?” Ryan growled.

“No guns in the hospital, Ryan. S.O.P. We have these safes you can program with your own passcode. It’s that or the nice officer here takes your gun.”

Ryan grumbled under his breath, then relented. “Fine. But you do it. I trust you not to mess with my piece.”

“Right leg?”

“Yeah.”

“He fell on his left side,” Jim, one of the EMTs, said, looking more relaxed since I’d calmed Ryan down. “I noticed the holster when I did a full body check. Called the officer over right away, but Ryan didn’t trust him to not give his gun back.”

I eyed the officer in question—Wilson patched on his bulletproof vest—and laughed. He had the adorable face of a freshly minted recruit. “You new?” Wilson nodded, his gaze barely straying from Ryan’s leg. “You know about the Kings?”

When Wilson shook his head, I sighed. “Roberts, can you give this guy a tutorial once I get Ryan situated?”

Roberts grinned. “Sure can.”

Playing it safe, I gingerly worked Ryan’s right boot off and then reached under his pant leg for the holster. I fingered along the length, found the safety and ensured it was engaged before removing the gun and laying it in the box. Roberts closed the lid and showed Ryan how to set his own code. We all looked away while Ryan set the electronic lock.

“I’ll get this into the ER’s safe. Come on, Wilson. I’ll walk you through our hospital protocol, so you know what to do next time.”

The EMTs rolled Ryan past the automatic doors into triage, where we transferred him to a regular ER bed. I helped him ease off his patch, carefully laying it where he could see it, and grabbing scissors so I could cut him out of the Henley he wore.

“Doc,” Ryan murmured. I turned to find him reclined on the bed, watching me, his brow furrowed.

“What’s your pain level?” I asked, thinking he was hurting and trying not to let it show.

“Four, maybe. I’m fine. I’ve hurt worse.”

I shook my head. “We’re not in the theater anymore. There’s nobody here but you and me. You don’t need to be tough if you’re hurting.”

Ryan nodded. “Thanks. Really, that’s what I wanted to say. Thank you for handling the gun. Sorry I was an ass to the EMTs and Wilson.”

“Did you cause the accident?”

My VP’s eyes widened. “What? No. Fuck no. Asshole went around the stopped bus and gunned it while still in my lane. It was a good thing I was slowing down and able to get myself out of the fucker’s way. Well, mostly out of the way.” He glared at the right side of his body, a mess of abraded flesh and torn clothing.

I scanned him as well. “You don’t need to apologize. You’re the victim here, and for what’s it’s worth, Ryan…” I waited until he met my gaze, then said, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Me, too.”

September 2026 Drake - Part 8

Drake - Part 8 

Prompt: They spread a blanket on the hill to watch the Perseid meteor shower. One of them made a wish. The other caught them making it.

“Can we head out to our place tonight? To watch the Perseid meteor shower?”

Grant’s question caught me off-guard. The couple of times we’d gone since July 4th had been on my suggestion. Heading off to the mountains, though, would never be a destination I’d turn down. That he’d started to think of the clearing as our place struck a deep chord within me. We hadn’t said the words, but it was there in everything we did together, from our quick coffee dates to dinner out to hanging with my brothers, to spending time in my bed or his. I was head over heels. So why hadn’t I told him? Why hadn’t he said anything? What the fuck was holding either of us back?

When I replied yes to the impromptu trip, I made a second silent decision as well. I’d tell him today, up on our mountain, in our spot, on a blanket under the stars.

We left after he was done with work, him riding pillion behind me again, his arms around me, one hand on my cock as he pressed his chest to my back. Fuck, I was so gone for this guy. We didn’t talk much on the drive, which made me a little nervous. From the moment I picked him up outside his condo, I got the feeling he had something on his mind. I wondered for a hot minute whether we were on the same page, but there hadn’t been anything to indicate he wanted to call it quits.

Sure, he’d been working a lot more lately, so we hadn’t spent as much time together as I would have liked. His job was important, as was mine, and sometimes life just got in the way of relationships. I was determined, though, for us not to be a casualty of such a demise. If there was work to be done to save us, I’d put in twice as much. I doubted I could do much to help him with his job, but asked anyway.

“I got muscles, you know.” I flexed playfully on a straightaway. “If you need help staging houses or putting up signs…”

Grant chuckled and, with his arms around me, squeezed me tighter. “I’ve got minions whom I pay very well to do those things for me. Thank you for your concern, but there’s not much you could do to help me with this deal. The buyer is being a jackass about the financing. It’s not even a house.” His sigh sounded very heavy through the speaker.

“Commercial property?” I mentally scratched my head, trying to remember if I’d seen signs for commercial property anywhere in Brawley, outside of our downtown main street. “Wait, is this the same guy you said was giving you the creeps? I thought you said you washed your hands of him.” Fuck, I tried to keep the possessive growl out of my voice, but doubted my success when he hugged me again.

“I did, but he came back. He apologized, and everything was good for the first month or so. It’s a huge sale. I don’t want to lose the commission, but he’s insisting on paying in cash, and nobody in the business world does that. You want financing, so you can offset it yearly on your taxes. Paying cash… that’s just sending up all sorts of red flags. I sent out a few inquiries, but haven’t gotten anything back yet.”

The way Grant was talking about this dude was giving me all sorts of red flags, too. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything I could personally do, but thankfully, there were people I knew who could. I briefly slipped my left hand off the handle and rubbed Grant’s thigh. “You should talk to Alden.”

“Your Prez? Why?”

“He knows people.”

Grant didn’t say anything for a few minutes, and I didn’t rush him. Dealing with Alden usually meant owing him a favor. Now, would I absolutely take on whatever that favor might be at a later date…? One hundred percent, if I could. Prez knew people; he knew the kinds of thoughts they had, the kind of people they were. I doubted he’d ask Grant to do anything nefarious, but Grant had to make that decision.

“Yeah, alright,” he finally said, so quietly I almost didn’t hear him.

“Good. If he can, he’ll help.” I pulled into the empty parking lot and into a spot. Once I cut the engine, Grant dismounted, but I didn’t let him get far. I snagged the back of his jacket and tugged him to stand where I could see him. Seeing his lopsided smile when he popped off his helmet made me happy. Fuck-a-duck, I loved seeing that wicked grin. I wanted to keep him happy all the damn time just so I could.

“Stay,” I ordered, releasing him so I could take off my helmet. I shoved a gloved hand through my hair, then ‌tipped my chin up. “Kiss me.”

God, could his smile get any more mischievous? And that glint in his eyes… Fucking yum. I pursed my lips as he leaned down, his hands landing on my shoulders to keep his balance. The first touch of our mouths was entirely too chaste, but Grant softened and deepened the kiss as I snuck my hands beneath the hem of his jacket, latching onto his hips and holding him in place.

I hummed when we finally parted, blinking open my eyes in the dimming light of sunset to take him in. Mine rumbled unhelpfully through my mind, primeval in my want of this gorgeous man. He quirked his eyebrows at me and darted in to place another quick kiss on my lips before he backpedaled away, giving me room to dismount.

Grant slung the backpack off his shoulders and dug inside, pulling out a couple of small flashlights. “I’ve got some of those thin emergency blankets in here, too. And some snacks.”

“What about a tent?” I asked, unlatching my saddlebag.

“No. Why? I wasn’t planning on sleeping out here.”

“We could, if you want. I have a little setup that’ll fit us both.”

Grant pouted. “I wish I’d thought of that. I’d have had you bring it.”

Giving him the biggest, cheesiest smile I could, I said, “I did.”

“I knew I liked you.”

I laughed as I bagged up the two-person camping tent and lightweight bedrolls. I tucked in my own small flashlight along with some trail mix, water bottles, and a travel-size bottle of mouthwash.

“Smart. We’ll appreciate that in the morning.”

“Yup.” I zipped up my backpack and slipped it on as Grant did the same. “Come on, we’re burning daylight.”

Grant snickered as we made our way to the trailhead. “You and your dad-isms.”

“When patients are stressed, they help.”

“No doubt.” Grant slipped his hand into mine. He continued making idle chit-chat as we hiked to our spot, slipping between the trees and shrubs until we cleared the forest’s edge and stood alone on the out-cropping with nothing by darkening skies, the moon, and the first hint of stars.

As I pitched the tent and unrolled the bedding, stacking them for the cushioning of layers, and adding one of his shiny, crinkly blankets on top, Grant asked with a hopeful lilt, “Any chance you brought those ground chairs?”

“Of course. In my bag.” They were one of the best purchases I ever made. A combination cushion and backrest for comfort while sitting on the ground. Had a handy water bottle pouch, too.

“Excellent.” Grant set out the second blanket and chairs and gathered up our snacks. “Had I known we’d be staying, I would have suggested bringing some beer.”

I shook my head as I knelt beside where he reclined on the blanket. “I don’t need it. You make my thoughts too crazy as it is.” I waved my hands around in a weird mimicry.

Grant grabbed one of my hands and held it in both of his. “I feel the same way.”

This was it. This was the moment I’d been waiting for.

“I love you,” he whispered.

I gaped, shocked speechless. He’d beaten me to it, but I couldn’t be mad. Slowly, regaining my senses, my lips curved into a smile without any thought from me.

“Drake?”

“Uh-huh?”

“Did you hear me? I said, I love you.”

“Yeah…” My grin grew. “I heard you.”

Grant’s expression sobered. “You’re scaring me.”

“I am?” Oh, fuck, that was the last thing I wanted to do. How in the world was I scaring him… Oh, God. I slapped my free hand over my eyes. “I’m such a dork. Don’t be scared. Please. You just surprised me.”

“Really? I thought you knew.”

“Well…” I shrugged sheepishly. “I suspected.”

“So…”

“So…?” JFC, I was an idiot. I shook out of his grip and then took both his hands in mine and squeezed them. “Grant, I love you. The whole ride here I’d been planning when and how to tell you. You beat me to the punch.”

“Well, I suspected, too.” Grant leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to my lips. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like us to be dorks together.”

“Hell, yeah,” I whispered back. “I’d like that. A lot.”

“Me, too.” Grant glanced around. “I think it’s dark enough that we’ll be able to see the meteor shower. Let’s sit and talk. Let’s plan while we watch the moon cross the sky and make wishes on every shooting star we see.”

Fucking A, I loved it when he got all poetic. We sat side by side, my hand on his thigh, his hand on mine, and tilted our heads back. It wasn’t long before we both saw the first bolt of light crisscross the clear night sky, gasping at the awe-inspiring sight. When I turned to Grant, I saw he had his eyes closed; his lips moved as he whispered his wish into the universe. I supposed I could have made a wish as well, but why bother… My wish had already come true.

Also... Quick reminder that Drake is currently on a special preorder price of 99 cents. https://mybook.to/DrakeVengefulKingsMC

August 2026 Drake - Part 7

 DRAKE - Part 7

Prompt: July 4th activities (Hiking and Picnicking)

It felt strange having the day off, but when one of my coworkers asked if they could work my shift for the holiday pay, I was more than happy to give it up. Now I had the day free and a boyfriend who wanted to spend the day with me. Win-win.

I packed my saddlebags and drove across the complex to Grant’s apartment and ogled him as I slowed to a stop in front of him. The mid-morning sun was shining behind him; the light a halo around his head and shoulders. He wore khaki slacks with a tight black tee that showed off his trim figure, and he held a classic leather vest. His broad grin and small bounce of enthusiasm as I handed him a helmet made me smile.

Grant slipped on the jacket, then grabbed the helmet and put it on. “Are these new helmets?”

“Yeah,” I replied softly, knowing he’d hear me through the new Bluetooth system.

“Hell, yeah.” Grant slapped my shoulder, then slid onto the bike behind me and made himself comfortable. Of course, him snuggling up against my back woke my dick, and I made a few adjustments of my own. “These are amazing. I love that we can talk on the trip, and I won’t have to yell so you can hear me.”

“That’s the plan.” I patted and rubbed his leg. “You ready to ride?”

“Yes! Let’s go.” Grant held onto my waist as I pulled away from the curb and drove out of the apartment complex.

The day was picture-perfect: warm, sunny, and not a cloud in sight. Even though we could easily communicate, we still rode in silence for the first quarter hour or so, just enjoying the scenery of a town on holiday. There were hundreds of American flags blowing in the breeze, and plenty of homes were decorated in a wealth of red, white, and blue.

As we neared town, we chatted amicably about the antique and classic cars we’d passed, and how everyone seemed in good spirits. It was a day to put aside politics and come together to celebrate our great nation. Realistically, I knew that was a hard sell, but with a pretty man riding pillion and holding on tight, I was pushing those kinds of thoughts to the very back of my mind.

I turned off the main road and headed for the mountains. There was a trail I wanted to take Grant hiking on that ended in a clearing with a breathtaking view. The plan was a picnic and, hopefully, maybe, sneaking in a little playtime if my beau was willing. Some guys balked at outdoor sex, but I loved the rush of it.

There were a few cars parked in the lot, but I wasn’t worried. The place I’d found was off the beaten track, and in all the times I’d come here, I’d never been bothered.

“This is nice,” Grant said, after removing his helmet and peering around the gravel lot, taking in the neatly fenced picnic areas and visitor information tucked under a wooden overhang.

“My favorite place. When I need to get away and just…”

“Unplug from the world?” Grant’s gaze softened. He stepped close enough to put a hand on my arm and gently squeeze.

I shrugged. “Yeah. Some days Denver can be a downright bitch. All it takes is one massive fender bender or apartment fire to throw the whole day into chaos. I’m good under pressure, but afterwards I need to unwind. This place is where I usually end up.”

“Just here?” Grant glanced around again. “Or…?”

“Definitely ‘or,’” I answered with a broad smile. I unlatched the saddle bags and pulled out the cold bags I’d packed inside along with a flattened backpack. “Just give me a sec to get this situated. You can check out the map if you want. Use the… Biffy.”

Grant laughed. “That right there. Such an outsider. You have to have more confidence.”

I rolled my eyes. “Just go use the damn Porta-John, then I’ll go, and then we can get with the hiking and picnicking.”

Grant snapped off a well-intentioned salute and marched toward the portable toilets. I snickered and shook my head before packing the cold bags into the backpack and slinging it on. I darted into an open stall and used the urinal. We exited at the same time, rubbing on hand sanitizer and grinning.

“Ready?” I held out a hand, and Grant took hold.

“Ready. I’m excited for this. It’s been a long time since I went hiking,” he said as we started on the upward path.

I was, too, for other reasons. “Gyms are okay, but I’ve always loved being outside. I was one of those kids who—during the summer—never went home until the sun was on its way down. My brother and I were always coming up with weird games and getting our friends to play them.”

“What kind of games?”

I thought for a moment, remembering back to those Jersey summers. My parents always complained about the weather, but my siblings and I ‌didn’t care. Talk about freedom. Those were the days of carefree living. “We lived in this community that had a pool, tennis and basketball courts; a small baseball field. Kind of like the one we live in, but with mostly single-family homes. Everybody lived on a postage stamp lot. The roads were kinda dangerous because we all lived on top of each other and everybody parked on the street, so we went to the pocket playground, or the pool, or the courts.”

“I know the kind of place you mean. There are a few over in Erie that I’ve sold, but I don’t really like selling those. I raised my fee on them, so most people don’t book me anymore.”

“Why don’t you like selling them?” I peered over at Grant curiously. “They’re great places for families. Ah!”

“Sorry, I’m not one for kids. Full disclosure,” Grant lowered his head and his voice, “I don’t want any. If that’s going to be a problem, then maybe—”

“Hold up.” I pulled him to a stop. “Personally, I don’t know where I stand on future kids, and I’m not ready to make that call. But I hear what you’re saying, and all I can tell you is right now they aren’t in the cards. I mean, look at me. I’m a biker in a motorcycle club. Besides, I don’t even have a husband yet.”

The way I’d ended with a teasing lilt and sly wink brought a smile back to Grant’s face. I cupped his jaw. “There’s one other thing I want to say to you. This is something I learned, and it’s worth repeating: never say never. Our lives can change so fast. If we were together and my sister had a kid and, God forbid, died and left me with custody, I would love my niece or nephew so hard. Would you leave me just because of them?”

Grant pressed his cheek into my palm. “I get it, and…” He took a deep breath in through his nose and blew it out. “You’re right. I can only say how I feel now. Who knows what the future holds?”

“Exactly.” I leaned in and kissed him until wolf-whistles broke us apart.

July 2026 Drake - Part 6

DRAKE: Part 6 

Prompt: Two strangers keep crossing paths at every Pride Month event in the city — finally, one of them decides to say something. Grant: I'll be there, but… I held my breath. But what? Those three little blinking dots taunted me. It could be seconds, minutes, even hours sometimes before I'd get an answer if Grant got pulled away. Grant: The office is a sponsor, so I have to be at our booth. With my coworkers. I chuckled at the grimacing emoji with its little tongue sticking out. Aren't you the boss? Delegate! Grant: Face of the business, baby. I've got to be there. A thrill of excitement went through me as I read the endearment. Baby. I'd never been anybody's baby except Mom's. Grant hadn't meant it the way he'd written it, though. Still, I could hear the inflection in the statement, and wished. I'd been falling for Grant since the day we met in the return line. I understood why we were taking it slow, or at least I thought it had to do with the fact that we were both coming off relationships. Mine had been short-lived anyway, with a doctor who wanted to date the big bad biker. Too bad I hadn't been willing to “clean up” enough for Dr. McHottie, or whatever the ladies at work were calling him nowadays. God, how did I keep picking the wrong guys? Grant was different, though. He knew the club, knew my brothers, knew motorcycles even. He didn’t look at me with only one thought in mind: banging the biker. I drummed on my lips, covering the smile that had formed there. Seriously, I could get behind—or in front of—banging the realtor. I didn’t really have a preference, though Grant gave off top vibes. Damn, we still didn’t really know each other, and that had to change. It was Pride. A time to take chances. Time to grab the man I wanted and take him to bed. Mine? Grant’s? A hotel…? Eh, maybe not a hotel. Definitely not at the club. Grant was too classy for that. For Grant, I might even try to clean up my act, something I’d never bothered to do for anyone else. Grant: So you’re going? I think so. Some of my brothers and their partners will be there. I was invited along. Grant: Excellent. I won’t have to stay at my table the whole time, just the first couple of hours. If you’re there, we can walk the festival afterwards. Sound good? Yeah. See you later. Grant sent back a thumbs-up emoji, and that was that. We had another meet-up. A pseudo-date, but I’d take it. *** The Brawly PD had set aside a row near the front for us to park. It let the officers and the townspeople check out our bikes, but it was cool since they’d keep an eye on our rides. Indians weren’t that common, and people liked to look; I didn’t mind as long as they didn’t touch. I locked my bike down and joined my club brothers and their partners. “Is there a plan?” I asked, running my fingers through my hair, fluffing it up after having it smushed under my helmet. “Nah,” Sunshine said, taking the hands of Orion and Marcus. “I think Bark and Brews has a table and Master Axe has an axe-throwing setup, so make sure you stop by those. Otherwise, enjoy yourself. Happy Pride.” He dragged his two partners off, leaving the rest of them staring after him. “It’s good to see him out and about,” Quinn said, tucking his hands into his back pockets. He peered around, his gaze catching on the sleek Corvettes with their hoods propped open. “I’m gonna go check out those sweet rides. See if I can find someone to ride later…” He winked at Drake before wandering off, not even noticing how the ladies he passed paused and looked back to watch him go. That left me with Ryan, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, especially when he turned slowly to me, shoved his fingers in his back pockets, and drawled, “So…” “So…?” I mimicked his posture, then assumed I looked stupid and crossed my arms instead. “What?” “So… is your boy here?” This time, I stared at him. “Boy? You know he’s older than me.” “So you’re not the dominant partner in your relationship?” “Oh, my God.” I slapped my hands to my face and dragged them down as I groaned. “Look, Ryan. I love you, but you need to stop talking now.” “Why?” Our club VP looked perplexed. Did he really not get how inappropriate his question was? Not everyone was kinky. Not everyone was a strict top or bottom. Not everybody had been having sex for Christ's sake. “Doc, man, look. I’m busting your balls. You don’t have to tell me anything except if he’s done something bad to you. Then you know your brothers will have your back.” Ryan punched his palm, adding emphasis. “I know that. And I’ve got yours, but Grant and I… It’s not like that.” Ryan clapped my shoulder and gave me a shove toward the fairgrounds, away from our bikes and the crowd they were already drawing. We walked shoulder to shoulder for a minute in silence, both of us peering around at the tables, booths, and concessions lining the entrance before he leaned closer, jerking his chin to the right. “There.” I turned, immediately seeing the realty sign, the sky-blue tablecloth, and the man I’d been lusting after for the last six months. Grant was engaged in conversation with a young gay couple—or so I assumed, though I knew I shouldn’t. One man, the larger of the two, wore an empty baby carrier on his back, while the shorter partner had the baby in his arms. As Ryan herded me toward Grant and his tent, the baby popped up, peeking over the caregiver’s shoulder, and gave me a toothless grin with that full-body wiggle babies like to do, forcing her caregiver to grab hold. “Dehlia, what are you doing, sweet thing?” the one holding her gently scolded, all coo and concern. With her gaze riveted on me, he glanced over his shoulder. Spotting me, his eyes widened. Instead of saying anything, I avoided contact with the guy and just smiled sweetly, wiggling my fingers at the tiny girl, who bounced with happiness. I caught Grant’s eye and winked, but took a right turn and kept on walking, not wanting to bother him while he was talking shop. He tried to wave me over, and Ryan bumped me to go, but I shook my head and continued on. “You’re not going over?” Ryan asked. “Nah. He’s busy. I’ll catch up with him later.” After another minute of Ryan side-eyeing me and his frown growing deeper, I sighed. “Are you seriously so desperate to get laid that you need to live vicariously through me?” “Ha!” Ryan slapped my back, throwing me off balance. “Dude. No, man, I’m just surprised. I thought—” I held up a hand to cut him off. “Stop right there.” Pausing our stroll, I turned to face him. “I really like him, so I don’t want to fuck this up. I tried a couple of times to…” My cheeks heated with embarrassment because who the fuck gets hung up on a guy and forgoes sex for half a year? Ryan’s gaze softened. He really was a good guy underneath that bad-ass exterior. “To what?” A sharp whistle drew our attention. I twisted to see Grant walking past with another of his co-workers, both of them in matching sky-blue polos. He winked at me, cocky grin and all, and then kept on going, heading toward the food trucks. Ryan chuckled and rubbed his hands together almost menacingly. “Me thinks there’re games afoot.”