5
GRIZZLY
Libby’s words, her permission and encouragement, derailed my anger. I shouldn’t have read her text. It’d just been muscle memory. When my device vibrated in my pocket, I checked it to make sure it wasn’t Storm. I saw her name and opened the message. Yeah, I was an idiot.
Let loose. Nobody is watching. Be you.
Be me? Who else would I be?
But I knew what she meant, which had made me stop on the side of the road, and put my hazard lights on. I felt sick to my stomach and needed a minute to process.
All my life I’d been controlled. Hell, even now, Storm was my superior and president. There had always been someone with authority over me.
Barking orders.
Making demands.
Punishing me for being me.
Storm hadn’t sounded angry about me swinging both ways. Perhaps because I hadn’t displayed non-straight behavior in front of my MC brothers. Although kinky shit occurred in the club, like threesomes, I hadn’t heard of any members liking to suck dick. Nope, as far as I knew, it was only me.
Be me , repeated in my head. Was Libby implying that she didn’t know who I really was? Aside from hiding my sexual preferences and my feelings for Toby, I was me. Well, the me I’d grown up to be during my shitty life, anyway.
I needed a drink, and I didn’t want to go to a biker bar where I might run into someone I knew. With that thought, I removed my cut and put it into my saddlebag and gathered my long hair to put in a messy bun. I looked more like a hipster than a biker, especially when I wore my glasses.
From what I could tell, no one had ever seemed to care that I wasn’t macho and muscly because I was the club’s computer geek and hacker. I just never really exuded the same fierce badassery vibes as my MC brothers.
Turning my hazards off, I got back on the road and headed toward Minneapolis.
I knew exactly where I wanted to go, to a place I’d never been—Nye’s Piano Bar.
There I would have some cocktails I’d never drink at the club and let my guard down to be me .
Of course, I still had no idea what Libby’s intentions were.
I wasn’t a cheater. I still loved her, even though I was furious with her.
Permission or not, I couldn’t let loose and be with someone else.
That was who I was, loyal and faithful.
I was an hour out from the city. Enough time to remember the past and figure out what I would do before I entered the bar and potentially got wasted and did something I might regret.
Back in middle school, I had crushed on a few boys. Girls still hadn’t appealed to me. They were fine to be around, and even to be friends with, but that had been the extent of my interest in the female population. They had nothing between their legs that appealed to me.
Not a long dick like Paul had sported in the locker room. He’d been one of my crushes.
Even after all these years, my heart skipped a beat as I pictured Paul’s wet body in the shower and his pecker shriveled up. He’d been a grower, not a shower.
Damn, I wondered what Paul looked like now, at almost thirty years old.
Middle school had been rough for me, especially with Paul’s gym locker next to mine. Every day, I stole glances of him, hoping he never caught me watching him undress. Or drooling as he sparred—buck naked—with the other dudes.
Of course, I had to be cool about it so no one noticed me.
If one of the guys had caught me, my life would have been over.
They’d have called me out. Announced to the locker room that a fag was among us and it was me.
It would have killed me to be outted and for my classmates to know the real me, especially Paul. I would have died.
In our small suburban town, gays were shit on. They were outcasts. And violently dealt with by the bullies.
When puberty finally hit, I discovered masturbation.
It had been amazing. Like who needed a girl or a boy?
While all the dudes in gym talked about “doing this girl and that one,” all I needed to do was wrap my hand around my dick and do myself as I thought of cute boys, like Paul.
The release I’d get had made everything so much better.
I recalled one morning, while waiting for my best friend to meet me at school, I was thinking about Paul.
Paul, Paul, Paul. It had always been Paul who lit me on fire.
The excitement pulsing through my body was ridiculous.
Almost like I’d explode from the intensity.
It made me wonder if that was how guys felt about girls.
At that moment, I’d suddenly realized I was gay because of the way boys made me feel. Still, I denied the truth and forced the stupid thoughts out of my head. I told myself I wasn’t a fag, but my heart said differently.
So much of my youth had been spent trying to convince myself I was just a mixed up, confused kid. That the dudes in my class were only cool. That I only admired them.
The sun was still high in the sky, typical for a summer’s evening. This far north, sunset wasn’t until almost nine. Riding solo, I could easily see the landscape around me.
There was nobody to follow, like when the club was on a run and I’d be stuck in the middle, somewhere behind Storm. Right here, right now, I felt free. Just my Harley and me on the open road, where no one cared who I was or about my past.
Memories of the guys I’d obsessed over were assaulting me left and right, as I flew down the highway. There weren’t a ton, only a select few who’d made me feel excited and turned me on.
Jon, the swim instructor.
Eric, the class clown.
Troy, the loner in the lunch room.
My heart sank as I remembered the emotions that had consumed me when I was a young preteen. It’d been hell. I’d honestly thought I had a mental illness. To some degree, I still felt that way.
Of course, I was a grown man now and knew better. But I still hadn’t accepted myself and openly shared it with my MC brothers or the world.
Being me was frustrating. As hard as I have tried to have eyes only for Libby, something was missing. Or rather, someone. Toby could be the link. The one that made me feel whole.
Yeah, only in my dreams.
I arrived at Nye’s and found a spot to park. For the first time, in what felt like forever, I had no worries. It was just me and my thoughts, and the rest of the world could F-off.
Finding a vacant seat at the bar, I got comfortable and scanned the many faces in the mirror in front of me.
Why did it seem there were always more women than men?
It must have been me and my hypersensitivity to just about everything.
The saying I’d heard long ago came to mind and I altered it to apply to me…
When Grizzly has a problem with everything, the problem is Grizzly.
Weirdly, I recalled how I’d made myself look at girls and pick out the things I liked about them. Hair and eye color. Tall or short. Athletic or nerdy. I’d tried to force myself to be attracted to at least one to “cure” me. Naturally, it hadn’t worked.
Homosexuality wasn’t a disease, no matter how much I’d wished it’d been a cancer, one I could’ve had chemo for to kill the “unnatural desires” inside me. That was the wishful thinking of a twelve year old.
“It sucks being different,” I muttered to myself, taking in the room. Speaking of different…
Nye’s Bar had been renovated several years ago, after developers bought the property beside it. The original owners had planned to close the place, but the community had shown up to encourage them to keep it open. Pretty cool, right?
I’d ridden by Nye’s many times, but had never gone in. Sort of bummed me out now. I’d have liked to see it in its original glory.
The brick walls, red, and gold accents were nice, though. I loved the jazzy vibe, something I would never admit to any of my manly brothers at the club.
I’d always kept most of my thoughts to myself. Some had called me the strong silent type. But really, I’d been too afraid to speak, fearing I’d accidentally reveal my homosexuality.
How had I survived all these years?
Why had I allowed myself to not be myself?
Why had I cared what others thought about me?
So many questions and no answers. I didn’t know why I hid my sexual orientation. Or why I was embarrassed to see a shrink. For years, Libby had encouraged—and sometimes begged—me to make an appointment. But I couldn’t risk my club finding out.
Now it seemed everything was coming to ahead because of Libby.
“What can I get you?” a man behind the bar asked.
For a split second, not a single word formed on my tongue. He was gorgeous. Seriously hot. “What do you recommend?” I quickly recovered and maintained some decorum.
Where had that reaction come from? Normally, I didn’t look people in the eyes. This man had caught me off guard.
He smiled, showing off his perfect white teeth.“The house special, of course.”
“I’m open to trying anything,” I replied in a soft voice. Even I, oblivious Grizzly, noticed the innuendo in my words. Where the hell did that come from?
“I thought you might be.” He turned away and made my drink.
I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Strangely, I wasn’t trying to hide my interest as I studied his physique from top to bottom, lingering on his tight ass for longer than I should.
The gritty, bluesy melody the pianist was playing in the background was setting the scene unfolding in front of me. Two strangers meeting in a bar… No questions asked. A one-night stand.
“One, Al Nye house special.” He placed the double old-fashioned glass in front of me. “The drink is named after the original owner, Al. Let me know if it’s too sweet and I’ll get you something else.”
I took a sip of the cocktail and let the flavors unfold in my mouth. Hints of orange and cherry mixed with the warmth of the bourbon. It was a delicious cocktail, one I would have never ordered on my own.
“What do you think?” he asked, with a hint of eagerness in his tone. His hands gripped the edge of the bar, showing off his thick forearms and ink. “It’s my favorite.”