Page 14 of Joyride
“Ah, you’ve met someone already?” Humor laces Gator’s voice.
Clutch shrugs. “Something like that.”
“We ran into someone we know and she was with some friends,” I explain.
“Someoneweknow,” Clutch mutters under his breath. I shoot him a glare.
“Interesting.” Gator chuckles. When I turn to him, he’s studying both me and Clutch.
“Anyway,” Diesel says. “If y’all get the okay to start our New Orleans chapter, what are you gonna do about a clubhouse?”
Outlaw's eyes light up. “I have some blueprints drawn up for a clubhouse. Gator has enough property, we need to decide between a couple different locations to build.”
“Until then, the house would be our temporary clubhouse,” Gator adds.
I nod in approval. “Bring those with you when you come to Texas. Bull will want to see the plans.”
Gator and I fall into conversation about club businesses and their plans for their potential chapter. Vegas and Kicks run inside to bring the girls back out. Kicks drags one of the girls onto his lap as he sits back in his chair. She has stark black hair, green eyes, and a tan like she spends all her time in the sun. She’s wearing waist high shorts and a Calvin Klein crop top, her tits threatening to spill out the top.
“That’s Raven, she’s new around here.” Gator must have caught me staring. “None of the guys have fucked her, yet.”
“Looks like they won’t get the chance to,” I tell him.
“I’d say that’s for the best. She’s too good to be passed around,” he says.
“Hey there, fellas.” This girl has a bikini top that barely holds her tits that are, in my opinion, too big. The button on her shorts is undone, and they’re rolled down once, revealing the straps of her g-string. “Can I get you anything?” She runs her nails across my shoulders.
“I’m good.” I lean forward, resting my arms on my knees.
Gator lets out a full belly laugh, then waves her off. “Go on, Claws.”
She scoffs and walks away. I may have thought about getting laid while here, but that was before I saw Wren. I haven’t been able to fuck another woman since I met her. It’s been a long eight months, that’s for sure. My eyes move around the group. Diesel is in deep conversation with Mac about American made cars. Clutch is nose deep in his phone, cheesin’ like an idiot. I’ve noticed him talking with Rex and Kamikaze a bit. Then there’s Kicks. He’s cupcakin’ like nothing I’ve seen before. We’ll have to drag him out of here when it’s time to go.
“So, tattoo convention. Do you even have any more space for tattoos,” Gator asks.
“I have a few spots saved for something special,” I admit. “It’s more about looking for new artists for my shop back in Texas.”
“Your own shop, huh? That’s badass.”
“It’s technically owned by the club, but Bull put me in charge of it. I make most of the business decisions, only needing to run certain things by him,” I tell him. “Y’all will need to have a handful of club-owned businesses too. Bull will go over all that with you when the time comes.”
“We’ve tossed around some ideas for businesses. Definitely open to new ideas, too,” Gator says.
“Sounds like y’all are prepared.”
“That we are.” He grins. “You know, y’all can stay here instead of at that hotel if you want.”
“We might take you up on that.” As the night goes on, I realize how well these guys would fit in with everyone back home. I’ll call Bull tomorrow to let him know and we’ll work on getting them out there for him to chat with.
10
Wren
A few days go by,and I am in a constant battle trying to decide if I should reach out to Sketch or not. One moment, I have all the confidence in the world and I’m ready to talk to him. Seconds later, my courage has fizzled out, and I’m back at square one.
“If you don’t stop moping around the house, grow some lady balls and call Sketch, I might have to do it myself,” Aria says.
My eyes shoot to hers. “You wouldn’t.”
