Page 57 of X My Heart

“You think I didn’t run every scenario through my mind?” I whisper. Drew and Hunter exit the garage and stop by the truck a good thirty feet away from us.

“It’s your choice.” He kisses my forehead. “Damn, girl. The pictures on their website weren’t lying,” Tim says, changing the subject, looking at the guys. I grin up at my best friend. “When was the last time you had sex?” he asks.

“I’m working on it,” I blurt out.

He raises an eyebrow as a dare. “You slept with him already, didn’t you?”

“Yesterday in his fucking truck, okay?” I mutter, smiling broadly.

“I’m so damn proud of you. Nothing wrong with having a one night stand. The way the guy kept his eyes on you the whole evening tells me he wouldn’t mind you fucking him some more. I’m planning on getting mine tonight,” he tells me, his Cheshire cat grin a mile wide looking at Drew. “What was he like, does he have more piercings than the ones in his face?” He asks, waggling his brows.

Hunter says something to Drew, and Drew rolls his eyes.

“We settled on being friends, Tim. And yeah he has more, nosy asshole.”

“Damn, I always wondered what it feels like. And friends can still fuck, babe,” he drawls.

“You guys coming?” Hunter asks.

Tim and I both look at each other, and I feel my cheeks overheat.

“What?” Hunter asks, frowning at us.

“Nothing,” we both say at the same time.

“Get in the car,” he orders, a crooked smile tugging on his lips.

We stop at a local bar not far from the house. There are a lot of bikes and trucks parked out front.

“What kind of bar is this?” I ask, following the boys out of the car.

Drew smirks. “A bar where they don’t ask questions,” he answers, as we follow him in.

The place is packed. Bikers, jocks, and surf dudes fill every inch of the floorspace.

They are all men. Oh. Is this what I think it is?

Hunter guides me to the bar while Drew and Tim hit the dance floor.

“What is this place?” I smile, looking around and loving the decorations that are sort of Playboy mansion meets biker bar.

Hunter orders two drinks, and a couple of guys stop by to say hello.

“It’s a gay bar,” he yells in my ear, trying to get his voice over Cher’s as she sings about love. “When we’re home, we usually stop by. May and Clay’s son owns the place.” He motions with his chin toward a big, burly guy slinging drinks behind the bar.

“Here you go, Hunt. Two Shirley Temples,” the bartender says, giving me a wink.

“August, this is Sky, Jay’s daughter,” he introduces me.

“Nice to meet you,” August says, shaking my hand. “Have a great time, and if this asshole gives you any trouble, I’ll be happy to throw him out for you.”

“Ha! Real funny. That was one time.”

“Uh-huh. I got my eyes on you, pretty boy,” August counters.

Hunter pouts like someone stole his favorite toy, and I laugh.

“Everyone seems to like you,” I say, looking around.

---