Chapter 9 #2
“Thanks,” Roan replied, sliding into the booth across from him while Taz headed back to the pool table to get some much-needed practice.
“It’s one thing for you to pay for the mistakes you’ve made,” Danger told him. “It’s another for you to pay for someone else’s sins.”
“I’d never touch someone else’s bike,” Roan said as he reached for a chicken strip.
Danger nodded, appraising him. “I never thought you would. You’re mouthy, but the shit you pull is always blatant and in everyone’s faces. Even if you hadn’t been where I could see you all day, I’d believe you. You’re not sneaky. Which is a good thing. Seriously, don’t change that.”
“I-I won’t,” Roan stammered as he broke the chicken strip apart so he could dunk smaller pieces, coating them in the sauce, the same way Danger did. “I don’t have anything against Scout or anyone else around here.”
“Care to tell me why you’ve been going out of the way to antagonize him and some of the other boys, then?” Danger asked, though at this point he was already certain he knew the answer and would have to pony up a hundred bucks once Roan confirmed what Mark had been trying to tell him.
“I-I just…” Stammering, Roan stared down at the piece of chicken dripping honey mustard all over his fingers for several seconds before meeting Danger’s gaze again. “Wanted them to pay attention to me.”
“Them, or their daddies?”
Roan sighed, took apart another chicken strip, and spent way more time than was necessary dunking and eating the pieces before he answered, so Danger decided to forge ahead and see how things went.
“Do you think those boys were just given those property of tags because their daddies like fucking them and wanted everyone else to keep their hands off?” Danger asked.
“Because there is much more to it than that. They forged a bond and went through a bunch of shit together to get where they are in their relationship. It’s not about wandering around finding someone who will pay attention to you, because chances are, it’ll be a fleeting attraction that ends with you being right back where you were but sadder and even more desperate. ”
“But it could grow into something more,” Roan insisted, peering up at him with a hopefulness Danger had started seeing since the night they’d spent in the dungeon with Pope.
Before that, Roan had always been careful to guard his emotions, offering only boredom, and cold indifference, which had rapidly soured Danger’s opinion of him.
Seeing him appear vulnerable, the way he had when he’d stretched out on the table in front of Pope, made Danger pause and take his time answering while he dissected his own chicken strip.
“Yes, it could if the people involved come to care about one another,” Danger explained.
“Which isn’t always the case. Sometimes it’s just about sex, which is fine too, but not everyone has an open relationship, and some of the boys aren’t willing to share their Daddies with someone they don’t like.
You’d have an easier time getting the attention you crave if you’d heed my words, slow down, and take time to build connections with people. ”
Another heavy sigh, another shredded chicken strip. Roan dunked a piece and swirled it around in the sauce before sighing again. Danger got it and chuckled, even when Roan raised his head and narrowed his eyes at him, some of the old coldness back.
“I get it,” Danger said, holding up his hand before Roan let his ruffled feathers say something that would leave them even more ruffled when Danger was forced to discipline him.
Recalling the way his boots had felt sticky against the otherwise gleaming floorboards on his way in here, Danger already had just the task in mind if Roan started smarting off.
“I don’t have much patience either,” Danger admitted, once he was certain Roan wasn’t going to try to talk over him.
“And not getting what I want makes me downright grumpy. It sucks sometimes. Watching others have what you want and not knowing how to get it. You want to take it from them, thinking it will fill the hole eating away inside you, but it won’t. Trust me on that.”
“Why don’t you have anyone?” Roan blurted.
“Well, right now I have you,” Danger explained, attempting to skirt the question.
“Yeah, but you agreed to train me because you weren’t attached to anyone,” Roan pointed out. “Almost everyone here is attached to someone, so why weren’t you?”
Danger admired his tenacity, even if it wasn’t a question he was prepared to answer right now.
“Noticed something interesting when I was watching your swim session this morning,” Danger said, steering the conversation where he wanted it to go.
“What’s that?” Roan replied, eyebrows drawing together until furrows appeared on his forehead.
Yeah, he hadn’t missed what Danger had done. Now to see if he let it go.
“You are making a hell of a lot of progress,” Danger admitted. “When you and Ocean aren’t making out.”
Roan shrugged but never looked away. Good, he shouldn’t be ashamed of making an honest connection with someone.
“Keep it up and you’ll be surfing with us in no time.”
“When do I get to watch you?” Roan asked. “Didn’t Doc take your stitches out a couple days ago?”
“He did,” Danger admitted. “So how does tomorrow sound?”
“Cool,” Roan replied. “The more I watch, the more I’ve noticed that everyone has a different style, kind of like with freestyle motocross. Some of the tricks and maneuvers are the same, but everyone has a different way of pulling them off.”
“You watch motocross a lot?”
“When I can.”
“There’s an event coming up in a few weeks,” Danger said. “I’m sure you’ve seen the flyers around town.”
“Yeah, I um, thought about getting a ticket, but I wasn’t sure if I’d be free that night.”
“And you didn’t want to ask me because…”
“You were still pissed off at me,” Roan admitted.
Nodding, Danger had to admit that he probably wouldn’t have asked either if he were Roan, with as much trouble as he’d gotten into the past few weeks.
“Well, we’re beyond that now, and I don’t see us getting back to that point as long as you don’t go stirring up shit, so if you’re still interested, I’ve already got some tickets a buddy handed off to me. You’re welcome to one.”
His eyes lit up, shoulders straightening as he smiled so brightly it transformed his face into something radiant and downright adorable. That last part was another shock, because it made Roan look softer and even younger than his twenty-five years.
“Thank you,” Roan replied. “That would be awesome. I’ve never been to a live event.”
“Alright then, just gotta find someone who wants the other two tickets,” Danger replied. “Unless you think Ocean would like to go.”
“I’ll ask him when I…”
Roan’s words trailed off even while his eyes shimmered brighter.
When Danger turned, he quickly discovered why.
Pope had entered the bar, and as he usually was these days, Ocean was by his side; the pair engaged in an animated conversation until Ocean saw Roan and his whole face transformed from happy to downright radiant.
Yeah, whether Roan realized it yet or not, what he craved was right there in front of him.
“We were looking for you,” Ocean announced when he reached their booth at the same time as Roan piped up, the pair talking over one another.
“Danger has tickets to a motocross event. Do you want to go?”
“Hell yeah! I love dirtbike races!”
“Same, but I’ve always been more into the freestyle; those guys are sick with the tricks they pull off,” Roan replied. “So, what were you guys looking for me for?”
“Pope was in the mood for some wind therapy,” Ocean explained. “We thought you’d want to come too if you guys weren’t working.”
“Got an invite for me, or is this a private party?” Danger asked, staring up at Pope, who stood poised just behind Ocean, the same tiny smile curving his lips that Danger had seen every time he’d caught Pope keeping company with Ocean.
“You’re welcome,” Pope said. “Figured we’d head up to Shakers Hill and ride the north ridge, come into town the back way, and fire up the grill out at my place, putting something in our bellies beside bar food for once.”
“Works for me.”
“Kickstands up in ten, then,” Pope said. “Just need to stop in and run something past Mark.”
“We’re done here,” Danger declared, as Roan picked up the last chicken strip, broke it in half, and offered a piece to Ocean, the pair cleaning up the last of the sauce in the dipping bowls and licking it off their fingers when they finished eating.
“I’ll get our jackets,” Roan declared when Ocean lifted the platter and turned to carry it back to the bar.
“Wash your damned hands first,” Danger grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose when Roan skidded to a stop and reversed directions, disappearing into the bathroom while Pope vanished into the office with Mark.
His wallet was fixing to be a hundred bucks lighter the next time he bumped into the Prez, but this time, losing a wager might actually prove to be worth it.