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.”