“I’m gonna get you back for that,” I warn him.
He’s still crying with laughter at my flushed face, so I pick up a scoop of ice cream and toss it at him. It’s my turn to laugh at the shock on his face as it slides down off his chin and lands in his lap.
“You did not just do that,” he says, wiping at his face with a napkin.
I bite into a brownie, the chocolatey goodness invading my tastebuds, and smirk at him. “Nope, you’re right. I didn’t.”
He picks up his spoon and piles it with cheesecake and ice cream and covers it in chocolate sauce. I watch him raise it to his mouth but with quick precision, turns it and flicks his wrist, hitting me bang in the middle of my face with the concoction.
I startle and stare at him, mouth wide open. He actually went there.
I pick up the bottle of syrup and squirt it all over his Guns ‘n’ Roses t-shirt, getting a little on his cut. He pretends to be angry before picking up the chocolate sauce and soon we’re having our own food fight in the booth.
“Hey!” The waitress shouts and runs over. “Stop that! I have to clean that up!”
We both turn looking guilty, fists raised with cake in them. Hunter is the first to speak, turning on the charm. “I’m sorry, I got a little carried away. I’ll be sure to leave your gorgeous self a big tip.”
He finishes with a wink and you can see her melt at his attention. I stifle back a laugh as she flutters her eyelashes at him.
“Well, alright. Just don’t throw anymore.”
“Just don’t throw anymore,” I mimic her in a whiney voice as she walks away.
He licks his fingers and reaches in his pocket, covering a pile of bills with sticky, chocolate sauce before placing them on the table.
“Let’s get out of here.”
He grabs my hand and we laugh while practically running out of the diner.
Hunter was three years older than me, but it never got in the way of our friendship. Whenever I needed him, he was there when he could be, no matter what he was doing. That’s why it killed me inside when he believed the horrible rumor and shoved me to the side as easily as he did. Our friendship was an easy one, and it blossomed into more than that as the years went on.
When I was eighteen, him twenty-one, I broke his heart, but he never once held it against me.
I hate this stuffy clubhouse, I can’t wait to go home. They’ve thrown me a party here to celebrate my eighteenth birthday today, I don’t know why my dad bothered, he never has before. Your eighteenth, in Club terms, is a big deal though.
For boys, they decide whether they want to patch in or not and for the girls, well, we get to choose to live on our own without the club or be a club Broad or an Old Lady.
‘Such an enticing list of options’ I think sarcastically to myself.
Hunter hasn’t stopped eyeing me up all day and it’s giving me butterflies everytime I catch him looking. He hasn’t gave me my present yet, but he said he’s waiting for the right moment. I take a deep breath and look around at everyone enjoying themselves in the common area.
Only on special occasions are kids allowed at the clubhouse, so there’s several running around with the older ones in charge of keeping a handle on them. I’m not even listening as Libby and Daisy chat about nothing I’m interested in, they’re such airheads. I excuse myself and decide to take a walk outside for some fresh air.
The lingering smell of smoke and engine oil permeates the air and I take in a lungful. I may not like the club, but I’ve always loved bikes. They represent freedom to me, something I feel like I’ve never had... until today.
I turn at the sound of the door opening and smile at Hunters chiseled face as he walks toward me.
“What you doin’ out here all alone?” He drawls.
“Just catching my breath, it’s pretty crowded in there.”
He nods his agreement and walks on over to a picnic bench, sitting on the table, feet on the actual seat part.
“Tables are for glasses, not asses,” I state.
He throws his head back and laughs. His beautiful warm brown eyes twinkle with humor and I admire how masculine and rugged he is. His strong nose and jawline, his windswept brown hair and even his slightly longer stubble now he’s decided to grow it out. It all screams familiar to me, safety, freedom, him.
He motions for me to move over to him and when I’m standing between his legs, he rakes his eyes over my body, purposely making sure I see him do it, before looking me dead in the eyes.
“There’s nothing more I’ve wanted to do all day than take you in my arms and kiss the shit out of you.”
I giggle and hit at his chest. “Yeah, okay, caveman.”
I brush it off as a joke, but inside my heart is beating a thousand times a minute.
He pushes my hair behind my ear and his fingers brush over my cheek, the movement slow and tantalizing. “And not just today, everyday that we’ve ever known each other.”
“So why haven’t you?” I ask, realizing he’s being serious.