Drake - Part 5
Photo by Aida Sam on Unsplash
Date Prompt: First dates should be things like paintball, axe throwing, or the gun range to determine the danger level you’re in when you fuck up and piss him off.
Grant and I continued to meet for random—and not so random—cups of coffee, meals, and dessert throughout the rest of April. May’s weather was better for riding, but storms liked to pop up, so I made sure I tucked my poncho and a spare into my saddlebags. And an umbrella. And every time it rained, I thought of him crossing the street.
Our discussions revolved around family, friends, and work, while steering clear of my time in the service and most things regarding the club. I noticed Grant also stayed mum on his commercial dealings. I’d casually asked once about his cancelled dinner, the one I capitalized on with our chance meeting in the rain. Grant had been quick to shut down the conversation, so I figured either it had gone nowhere and he was mad, or it was super-secret hush-hush. I knew about those kinds of things as well.
The Vengeful Kings rode out twice in May on Veteran Rides, but I could only make one of them with my work schedule. There’d been some club meetings about standard business, dues, and potential new members, and a few more about the “other” kind. I tried to stay out of those, but sometimes my presence was required.
After one such stressful “required” ride on club business, I needed to decompress. Being in the clubhouse, around my brothers, wasn't relaxing—most of them thought drinking away their problems solved everything. I needed something else… or someone else.
Sitting on the always surprisingly comfortable couch at the clubhouse, I flipped my phone from hand to hand and debated texting Grant. It had been a couple of days since I'd last seen him, a fleeting cup of coffee in between appointments for him. I suspected he'd be busy. Spring, he’d said, was a special kind of hell for realtors.
Still, he was the person I wanted to hang with more than anyone at that moment, so I gave in and sent him a quick text.
Hey.
I tried to think of something witty to add, but came up with less than nothing. Thankfully, Grant saved me from myself.
Grant: Hey, yourself. Day off? You bored?
He'd added a cute little eye-roll emoji that made me smile.
Yes and yes. You free?
Grant: Open house, but done in an hour. Come keep me company? I have free coffee!
Now that sounded like a solid plan to get me outta here.
Sure, send me the addy.
I was up and moving, and my phone binged with the address before I even hit send.
“Who lit a fire under your ass, Doc?” Alden drawled as I passed him. He swiveled on his barstool, his eyes holding me in place.
“Booty call?” Ryan asked loudly, earning a raucous round of laughter.
“Our sweet Doc?” Silver parried. “Doubt it.”
I paused at the door, looked back at Silver, and then panned the room, halfway between humored and annoyed with my brothers. Did they think I was celibate or something? What right did they have to ask, anyway? “And if I was, what business is it of yours?”
Silver held up his hands. “Well then, good for you. No disrespect intended.”
I glared around the room and huffed. “Anyone else wanna stick their nose into my business?”
Alden slammed his hand on the bar top. “Drake! My office. Now.” He stood and crossed the room. Ryan, our VP, followed him.
My brothers snickered as I passed through the room, but nobody moved to back me up. Fuckers. Why was I here again? Oh yeah, I didn’t have a home to go back to since my folks sold the house while I was overseas and put all my shit into storage while they motor-homed their way from sea to shining sea.
I paused halfway down the hall, out of sight of Alden, Ryan, and the rest of my club brothers, and took a deep breath. My hands shook, and everything felt tight. I tried to shake off the jitters and rolled my head around to loosen my neck muscles, but it wasn’t working.
“Come on, kid,” Ryan called from the doorway. “You know Prez is more bark than bite.”
Reluctantly, I shuffled through the door, my feet—and Prez’s sharp gaze—locking me down only a few steps inside.
“Sit,” Alden ordered, leaning back in his office chair and kicking his feet up onto the edge of his desk. He peered at me while I sat, unable to make eye contact. Instead, I keep my focus on his chin, like I used to in the service.
After a minute of silence, he snorted. “Chill, kid. I ain’t gonna kill you for back-talking your elders.” I lifted my gaze and took in his wry grin, and finally let myself relax. He was amused at my expense, not that I could do anything about it. “Good,” he drawled, then dropped his feet to the floor and rested his forearms on his desk, his jaw hardening and expression stern.
“Are you happy here, Doc? With your job, your place, the club? Cause if not—”
“No!” I barely kept myself from shouting as I gripped the edge of the desk and lifted a few inches off the chair. Ryan gripped my shoulder, holding me in place. “No. I’m… fine.” I fell back onto the seat, glanced away, then returned my gaze to him with regret, which I’m sure was showing on my face. “You know I don’t like the club’s side business, but I’m not going to stop you or turn you in. I’m just nervous.” I pushed my fingers into my hair and cursed. “Fuck, Prez, I made it back—alive. I wanna keep it that way, and keep you all alive, too. Am I making sense here?”
Alden grinned. “You are, and I’m thankful. Grateful, even. It’s good to have someone with your training to take care of us, but I hear what you’re saying. I see how stressed you get on those rides, but you need to understand that those I ask you to come on are because I need you there. They’re the dicey ones that might go sideways, and you’ve got the training that might come in handy. That’s the reason you’re there, but also the reason why I always have you hang back while I make the exchange.”
“I know,” I said, nodding, “and I appreciate it, but it’s still stressful, and I’m not a drinker. I can’t drown out the adrenaline with a beer.”
“So you need a fuck then.”
I snorted and shrugged. “Yeah, maybe.”
“I was right,” Ryan crowed. “It is a booty call.”
I side-eyed our VP and shrugged again. “Maybe. It’s casual, and I like him, but we haven’t even kissed, so…”
“Grant, yeah?” Alden asked.
“Yeah.” I grinned. Couldn’t really stop myself whenever I thought of the sexy realtor. “How’d you know?”
“Couple of the guys have seen the two of you together. We thought maybe you were thinking of moving, but since you didn’t say you were… assumptions happened.”
Ryan cleared his throat. “Excuse me, but did you say you haven’t even kissed? That’s the worst kinda hook-up.”
“I agree,” I said, leaning back in the chair, “but we haven’t done that either.”
“Why not?” Ryan perched on the edge of Alden’s desk, peering down at me.
I shrugged. “Maybe because we haven’t even gone on a real date yet. We’ve had coffee, a couple of rushed lunches, and one ‘hey, we’re both here, so let’s eat together’ dinner.”
“But you’re going to meet him now… why can’t this be a date?”
What the actual fuck? This conversation was… surreal. Never in a million years did I think I’d be discussing my love life with my Prez and VP, even if Alden and some of my other brothers were in committed relationships now.
“He’s coming off a job, an open house. I’m going to keep him company, and then, I don’t know…”
“You need to take him on a date.” Ryan stabbed a finger into his thigh to make his point. “And since it’s a first date, you gotta do things like paintball, axe throwing, or the gun range to determine the danger level you’re in when you fuck up and piss him off.”
“And vice-versa,” Alden chipped in. “Take him to Master Axe. Food’s good there, and the beer selection is stellar. Plus, the manager will give you a discount if you’re wearing your cut.”
“Really? Why?” But then I held up my hand. “Don’t answer that.” As far as I knew, we didn’t have any deals with the place, but we were laundering money through some other businesses, and I really didn’t want to get involved in the knowing.
“Smart boy,” Alden grinned. “Go on, get outta here. Look dejected on the way out, so the guys think I was mean.”
I couldn’t help chuckling at that as I left, and schooled my features into an angry scowl as I stomped through the clubhouse like I had a storm cloud over my head. My bike roared to life and, with a plan forming in the back of my mind, I rode away.