The probie and his biker chick (Iron vipers book 3)

Sad cat

*Tommy*

It’s been two weeks since the wedding… and that night. Two weeks since I let myself get swept away by Dylan… again.

Now, I’m at the clubhouse, and let me tell you, this place is about as lively as a graveyard on a Tuesday.

I’m slouched on a worn-out couch, wearing my current favorite T-shirt with a cartoon cat that looks like it just flunked out of life, captioned “I’ve made a huge mistake.” LZ eans against the bar, arms crossed and a sly grin plastered on his face.

“Dude,” he says, shaking his head. “Even that cat on your shirt looks more lively than you do. You’re seriously bringing the mood down in here.”

“Thanks for the pep talk, LZ. I’ll be sure to add it to my diary of profound insights,” I reply, not bothering to hide the eye roll.

Nick chimes in from across the room, polishing off a beer. “You’re like a sad puppy, man. It’s pathetic. You’re seriously going to let a girl mess with your head like this?”

“Hey, it’s not like that,” I protest, but the truth is, it kind of is. I keep telling myself it was just a wedding fling, just great s*x and some wicked dance moves under twinkling lights. But I can’t shake the feeling that I’m missing something.

“Stop moping over my cousin. It’s getting weird man,” LZ raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Like the way you keep staring at your phone like it’s about to send you a message from the heavens?”

“I do not,” I shoot back, though I know I sound defensive. “But I was wondering, like just curious… I mean, she’s in England finishing school, and I’m just wondering if she’ll be back for the holidays. Nothing more to it.”

“Sure, buddy. Just ‘wondering.’” LZ snickers, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’re not fooling anyone. You’re like a teenage girl waiting for her crush to text back.”

“Yeah, and you’re like a bad sitcom waiting for a punchline,” I retort, but it’s weak. I can’t help but think about that night. “You did not answer… Is she coming home?”

“Honestly, Tommy,” Nick says, leaning forward with a serious expression. “You need to reach out to her. What’s the worst that could happen? You could keep moping around in that shirt and let LZ tease you until you cry.”

“Yeah, because that’s my ultimate fear,” I mumble, glancing down at the sad cat. “What if she’s like… doesn’t want to hear from me? What if she’s found someone else? I don’t want to be that guy who makes things awkward.”

“Or you could be the guy who shows interest and makes a connection,” LZ counters, his tone earnest. “Look, you’re a decent guy. Just ask her how she’s doing. What have you got to lose besides your dignity?”

“Right, because dignity is something I clearly have in spades right now,” I say dryly. “But fine, I’ll think about it.”

“Good,” LZ says, a grin creeping back onto his face. “Because if you don’t, I’m going to keep making you wear that shirt and remind you of your sad state every time I see you.”

“Great, just what I need… more motivation to strut around like a sad sack,” I joke back, but inside, I feel this flicker of hope. Maybe reaching out to Dylan wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world.

LZ laughs as he walks towards the stairs, “And by the way She will be home for good in like five weeks.”

As I sit there, the sounds of laughter and bikes revving outside the clubhouse fade into the background. I pick up my phone, fingers hovering over the screen as I prepare to send a message that might just change everything.

“Hey, what’s the worst that could happen?” I mutter to myself, trying to muster some confidence. With one last deep breath, I type out a quick message, hoping it’ll lead to something more than just a simple exchange of pleasantries.

‘Hey, Dylan! How’s school treating you? Just thought I’d check in. LZ says you will be home soon… like done with school. It’s Tommy by the way.’

I hit send and sit back, heart racing. Instantly regretting, damn that Was one awkward text… maybe I can claim it was a drunk text?