The Biker's Rules

Take a little tumble

Date = 7 November

Place = San Francisco (Scoma’s Restaurant)

POV - Damion

“Are you gonna order a third dessert? Or are we leaving?” She has a point. We’ve been here since four. That’s what the message said … Scoma’s. Pick you up at 4.

Now it’s nearly six and there’s no sign of her or the douchebag.

“Can you tell me again why we are here exactly?” I stare into her teasing face. If she wasn’t one of my most favorite people on this earth, I would probably have strangled her by now.

Why are we here? That’s a very good question. One I don’t exactly have an answer for — except … stupidity. Maybe jealousy. Or possessiveness. None of them are very good answers.

Then my heart does a double-take triple-somersault with a f*****g headstand, leaving me gulping for air.

She walks in with that stuck-up puppy trainer, in the shortest, sexiest, milk-pink dress that curves tight against her perfect body. And the little zipper holding in her cleavage makes me pay f*****g attention.

“What type of d**k-teaser dress is she wearing?” It slips out.

Thalia turns to look at the door and her face lights up like the fourth of f*****g July.

“Oh, that’s a zipper front, long-sleeved, ribbed knit, mini bodycon dress over black leggings,” Thalia rattles with a peal of distinct laughter in her voice. “Which, judging by the drool, sizzled up your s****l organ.”

“Smart ass.” But she’s right. I am turned on.

“I wonder if you get it in red? Would love one for myself.”

“You know,” I say, “I Can’t remember exactly why I brought you with me.”

“Because I’m extremely good company. So, who’s the blonde?” She’s way too enthusiastic. “And who’s the hottie at her side? Yum.” I’m getting a headache.

“She’s my best friend’s little sister.” And as for the hottie, I’m trying to imagine he’s not there.

“So she must be a Blackburn since Logan is your BFF.” Thalia occasionally works with Enrique and has met Jackson and Ilkay at the club a few times, but not Logan.

“Oh, look at you working that out all on your own.” I watch that doggie-two-shoes pull out her chair. I feel an eye twitch coming on.

Why is she here with him? What happened to Ren?

“Wait,” Thalia raps with shining eyes, “is she the crush that started your rules?” She cracks up. “Oh, my holy moose, now it makes so much more sense.” Definitely an eye twitch to go with the headache.

“I can see the appeal, she’s really beautiful, but … eh,” she stammers and bites her lip. “She seems so innocently naive and you are … well … YOU,” she continues.

“Okay, you know what …” I pout, “Judgmental people don’t get a say.”

“Well, can I tell you then why she’s with Mr. Hot-as-hell over there instead of sitting here with your sorry ass?”

“Not interested,” I say, cause I already know. I’m a coward when it comes to her. “And he’s not that hot.” She cranks her neck to look at me.

“He so is.”

“Not.” I glance over at the dude.

“He really is smoking,” she says flatly.

“Stop it,” I hiss. “He looks like me — if I had longer hair, different eyes, and a long ass stick up my butt.”

Sensing the tone and perhaps that I was being serious, she asks: “Are you pissed or jealous?”

“Neither.” Dammit. “Both. But that’s not it.”

“Men only have two emotions — horny and hungry … and you can’t be hungry, you ate two desserts.”

“Just shut up.”

She does and peers at me for a long minute. “You know I check the news like all the time. And I haven’t seen much of your man-w***e ways in there for a while. Actually, nothing since the accident.”

“No.”

“You stopped f*****g around?” She pry loudly with huge eyes.

It immediately draws the attention of three pretty church ladies sitting at the neighboring table. They look at us with so much biblical holiness on their faces that I feel like doing a Hail Mary. Instead, I opt for a goofy smile, and they blush like beets, giggling behind their hands.

I sigh and turn back to face her. “Is that so hard to believe?” I keep my voice down.

“Yes.”

“I believe you, son,” one lady says, leaning closer to our table.

Thalia ignores her and eyeballs me. “Wait, you’re serious?” I nod.

“So you haven’t had s*x at all?” Still hesitant. I pull up my shoulders. I would not say that.

“Not with a girl.” The three ladies slurp in their breaths.

“With a boy?” one asks intuitively. That’s actually diametrically funny, but I’m not in the mood to laugh.

“I think, Bertina, he was talking about a catholic handshake,” her friend helps her right. Bertina pulls big eyes, her lips forming a silent ‘O’ shape.

“f**k!” Thalia swears. She slaps a hand over her mouth as she looks at the ladies. “Sorry,” she mumbles from behind her mouth.

“It’s alright dearie, it happens to the best of us,” Bertina says but Thalia is already focused on me again.

“You really truly frickin love that girl.” She looks shockingly surprised. Why is it that me loving someone is such a mindbogglingly concept? I’m not sure what I feel yet — my d**k loves her, my heart misses her, but my mind is still rebelling.

“Awwww,” the ladies chirp.

And … I think it’s time to go. I’m really not comfortable discussing something my brain can’t comprehend yet with complete strangers. I get up.

“Nice to meet you, ladies,” I manage without feeling too embarrassed. Thalia smiles and waves. She hooks into my arm as I head straight to their table. I didn’t plan to, it just happened.

“Hi,” Thalia says holding out her hand, “You must be Mel.” There’s a slight tease in her voice. “I’m Thalia Green.” Mel looks as unsettled as I feel.

Knowing my manners I nod at the dude sitting with her, making sure my expression displays my exact feelings — utterly pissed off. There’s something in his diamond-blue eyes, something I can’t place, something familiar, something begging for recognition. And that something makes my skin crawl.

“Girl, I LUUUVV the dress,” Thalia says to provoke me. She’s pretty good at that. Always has been.

“Thanks.” She sounds unsure. But my d**k is pretty sure that dress is shouting out for wicked, unrighteous, s****l behavior.

“Mel,” I say like a lovesick i***t. Our eyes meet and it’s like a one-two punch in the gut.

“Damion.” Feeling winded and having a little trouble controlling my little man, I walk away before anything embarrassing happens.

“Well, someone just fell flat on his face,” Thalia teases and I hit the side of my bike, sending her into a rage of laughter. She can thank her fanny that she’s not a guy right now or her nose might be bleeding.

I help her with her helmet and then we pull away with screeching wheels, going down Jefferson Street, my mind going to places it shouldn’t while driving — mostly to an image where I’m pulling down the little zipper of her dress.

Thalia jerks me from behind, just in time for me to get out of the way, almost hitting a boat trailer that fishtails into our lane. The bike sways, but I manage to save and correct.

Fuck, that was close!

I’m going a little faster than I should — 70 miles/hour — way too fast for the rather small street.

I pull the brake to slow down, my mind now clear and on something completely the opposite. What if something happened to Thalia? I won’t f*****g survive another demon.

Wait, we’re not slowing down!

I pull the brakes again … nothing happens.

“f**k!”

A cold cleat slowly starts to cover my body, starting from the top.

The brakes are not working. f**k! What now?

I gear down, but the clutch doesn’t seem to work either. Dammit.

Thalia is clinging to me like a tick as we’re nearing the end of the road. Then it’s only a cement walkway running along a thin piece of beach.

We’re going to fall. f*****g hard.

I take a deep breath. I need to stay calm and think. I look around, contemplating my options.

The beach. If I hit it at the right angle … and lowslide … and pray … we might make it out.

I aim for the sand and at the very last second, I let the bike’s wheels slide out.

The force drags us over the tiny strip of sand into the ocean where we come to a stop.

I jump up and stand in the low waves for a few moments, to catch my breath … I’m f*****g drained!

“Thalia …” I shout out, turning my head to look for her. She sits in the shallow water, struggling to take off her helmet with shaking hands.

“Are you okay?” people shout while running to us. I remove my helmet and hold up my hands to show them I’m good. I help Thalia to stand up and unbuckle her helmet.

“Are you hurt?”

“I will survive.” I notice she’s holding her left wrist. It might be broken. “What happened?” Frustrated, I throw my helmet onto the sand, where it hops a few times and then rolls to a halt.

“No brakes.” I pat down my body to look for my phone and notice lots of missed calls from Mel and Axel. What do they want so urgently?

I phone my dad to come and pick us up, sending him our location. I help Thalia to the walkway and we sit down on the ground. People are standing around in different states of shock and curiosity.

Then I dial Axel back.

“Hey dude, we had a little accident. You were looking for me?” I listen as he explains the message from D. I stare at the bike, people are pulling it from the waves.

The fucker tampered with my bike. f*****g asshole! This could have gone very badly. Thalia could have died or something.

I reassure Axel that we’re okay, mainly scrapes and bruises, and tell him that my father is on his way to pick us up.

“You had us worried, dude,” he says and then whispers softly, “— especially Mel.”

So at least she worries about me … does that mean she cares?

“Dude, please look after her for me,” I ask.

After he hangs up, I stare at the ocean for a while, not really thinking about anything … just a little about Mel … and the douche that’s terrorizing her.

“So, again I ask, do you love this girl?” Thalia breaks the silence, but I open my mouth, close it again, and keep surveying the ocean.

“Precious. Can I film this?” Thalia continues after a slight pause. “Damion Grimm at a loss for words.” I blow some wind through my nose and bite my jaw.

“I take it back. Innocent or not, that girl is perfect for you.” I throw some sand at her, but she just ducks and laughs mischievously.

“Right now I have the urge to rip someone’s throat out, so don’t push me.” She chuckles openly in my face, knowing I’ll never hurt her in any way. She must be the most annoying female in my life, right after Mel and maybe my mom.

“I don’t know …” I start, “If this is love. But I know she’s the only f*****g girl who can drive me bonkers!”

“I thought I drove you insane?” she pouts.

“Yes, but only my mind …” I sneer, “You absolutely don’t make my body, heart, and p***s go berserk.”

“Oh my gosh … you’ve fallen hard!” Thalia squeals.

“s**t! So what’s the problem? You’re obviously p***y-whipped, and the s****l tension between you two is so thick you can drive your bike on it.”

“Besides the fact that she’s my best friend’s sister,” I pause to think, “I also have to break almost all of the rules to be with her.” Thalia knows about my rules … she’s one of the few people who knows almost everything about me … we grew up together … she went through every high and low with me.

“You paused. You had to think about it.” She drops her head onto my shoulder. “That means the rules are not what’s holding you back.”

I stare at the sand for a long while, as if trying to make sense of what she just said.

She’s right … the fact that I haven’t told Mel what I decided, or gone through this past year-and-a-half, is not because of her brothers or my rules … it’s because she scares the s**t out of me.

I’m a coward. Plain and simple.

“Well, the way I see it there are three possible outcomes — only one of them good.” She wiggles her head deeper into my neck to find a more comfortable position. “One — you can do nothing and stay miserable for the rest of your life.” I don’t like number one.

“Two — you can man up, get rejected, and stay miserable for the rest of your life.” I like this one even less.

“Three — you can man up and get your happily ever after.” I f*****g like this option.

“Your choice.”

“I guess you’re right — if there’s even a small chance to be happy with Mel, I should at least try.”

“And between you and me … that girl loves you too. She might just not know it yet.”