Chapter 11
Naomi
By eleven, I’m feeling happier than I’ve felt in a long time.
I’ve almost forgotten the sinister reason I’m here.
The guys have been sharing stories from their youth, tales of wild escapades at the clubhouse, a world that feels both thrilling and slightly intimidating.
Surrounded by laughter and the clinking of bottles, I feel like I know them so much more now, enjoying the easy camaraderie that flows between them.
Even Ace, the usually stoic member of the group, has relaxed, revealing a more laid-back, fun side I didn’t know he had.
One solitary slice of pizza sits in the discarded box on the table, a testament to my earlier appetite that has since waned.
Despite the guys’ teasing to finish it off, I can’t manage another bite.
Gage heads to the fridge for another beer, only to discover Cash drank the last bottle.
“Damn it, we’re out of beer,” he says, staring into the depths of the fridge as if more might miraculously appear.
A wave of disappointment washes over me.
I don’t want the night to end. It feels like the first hint of belonging I’ve experienced in a long time, and I’m not ready to let it slip away.
Seizing the moment, I decide to take advantage of Ace’s good mood.
“Why don’t we go to the clubhouse for a bit?
I’d love to see it.” My voice carries a hint of excitement that surprises even me.
As I glance at Gage and Cash, their eager expressions reveal that they’re fully on board. We look to Ace, who, after a bit of cajoling, finally agrees. His approving nod sends a thrill through me. I feel like I’ve finally won with him.
The clubhouse is packed to the rafters when we arrive, pulsing with energy and life.
A live band plays in one corner, the bluesy riffs curling around the room like tendrils of smoke.
The walls are adorned with vintage motorcycle memorabilia, faded photographs, and the occasional newspaper cutting, all telling stories of freedom and rebellion.
Long, scarred wooden tables fill the space, bearing the scars of countless nights fueled by beer and bravado.
The music is a vibrant backdrop to the raucous laughter and conversation filling the air.
Above the din, I can still hear the sounds of motorcycle engines roaring outside.
People drink, dance, and laugh, their carefree spirits boosting the atmosphere.
In one corner, away from the dancing, a group of rough looking men are playing pool, the balls slamming into each other with sharp cracks like thunder.
It takes us a while to weave our way through the crowd, each step punctuated by voices calling out to the guys, club brothers eager to greet them and give them friendly back slaps.
They introduce me to so many new faces that the names blur together, but I soak in the warmth of inclusion regardless.
It ignites a flicker of hope in my chest. Maybe, just maybe, this place could offer more than just a fleeting escape; perhaps it could be a steppingstone to finding myself.
A place where I would no longer be alone, where others share my passions and dreams.
Behind the bar, the middle-aged redhead expertly pours drinks, her hands a blur as she navigates multiple requests with the ease of someone who has done this for decades.
Able to skip the line, patrons parting like the Red Sea for him, Ace orders a round of beers and tequila shots, and the bartender moves with practiced ease to serve us quickly.
“Welcome to the club, Naomi!” he says, raising his shot glass high, his dark eyes capturing mine.
The words hit me with unexpected force, sending a rush of warmth through my chest. In this chaotic, electric setting, surrounded by laughter and celebration, I feel a connection blossoming within me, a sense of belonging that sparks a genuine smile on my face.
For the first time, Ace smiles back at me.
The reflection of the warm lights glows in his eyes, as if he’s lit from within by fire.
I try to take a mental image to paint later.
Gage and Cash clink their glasses with ours, and we throw back the shots.
I wince as the liquor hits my throat, and the guys poke fun at me for being a lightweight.
A small part of me worried that once we arrived at the club, I would be ignored, forgotten, but I needn’t have been concerned.
Even in the busy bar filled with friends who want to talk to them, I hold their attention captive.
My worries fade into the background, replaced by the anticipation of what the night might hold.
The music, the laughter, and the feeling of friendship swirl around me, inviting me to let go of my reservations and fully embrace this new chapter in my life.
As I lift my glass to join in the toast, I can’t help but feel that perhaps, just perhaps, I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.
“Let’s dance!” I shout over the din.
Ace pulls a face, his mouth a thin line. Gage laughs, revealing his straight, white teeth. “Ace doesn’t dance.”
I don’t want to let anything get in the way of my good mood.
“Fine, then he can stand while we dance!” I grab hold of Gage’s hand, pulling him toward the throng of people.
His hand is warm and steady in mine. I can practically hear Ace roll his eyes behind me as Cash chuckles and follows, too.
I have to admit, I don’t mind the jealous looks that the women give me when they see us together.
The guys surround me, forming a protective circle.
Ace and Cash stand to one side as Gage pulls me further into the fray.
He places his hands on my waist, pulling me closer.
As we grind in time with the music, my mind wanders to the night we spent together.
I lay my hand on his chest, where I know the heart tattoo rests.
I feel myself getting warm with arousal.
The heavy mix of alcohol and the rhythmic tribal feeling of communal dance has me acting on instinct.
I don’t care who’s watching as we dance, so close and intimate it would usually make me blush.
Or maybe I do, at least I care about two other people in the room watching.
I can feel his eyes on me, and as I glance over Gage’s shoulder, Ace’s eyes bore into mine.
I can’t tell if he’s jealous, angry, or aroused.
He stands with his arms folded, oblivious to the hungry gazes of the women around him.
His focus is on me like a laser. He mutters something to Cash, who’s also watching us with naked curiosity.
Gage nuzzles the hollow of my neck, his tongue darting out, sending a ripple of electricity through my body, and my attention snaps back to him like a rubber band.
“Do you know that everyone’s been watching you since the moment we walked in?” he murmurs to me, his voice low and seductive.
“Hardly, it’s you and the guys they’ve been looking at,” I reply, my breath coming out in a gasp as he dips me and pulls me back into his chest.
He captures my eyes with his, looking at me sincerely. “You’ve no idea the effect you have on people, do you?”
“You must be drunk,” I say, tilting my head back with laughter before gently tapping his chest.
He looks serious for a minute, but then the storm passes, and he smiles. “Speaking of, do you want another drink? I’ll head to the bar.”
“And leave me all alone?” I pout jokingly.
“Never,” he replies before signaling the guys. A brief discussion ensues, which prompts Cash to slope off toward the restroom, while Ace strides through the crowd toward me. Before I can utter a word of protest, Gage slips away with a “Be right back,” and a triumphant grin.
And then Ace is looming over me. He’s so tall that my head is in line with his muscular chest, I can see the smattering of hairs poking out of the top of his shirt and I wonder what he’d look like with it off.
I feel awkward and uncertain in his intimidating presence.
“We don’t have to dance, I mean, not if you don’t want to, or can’t,” I stammer, remembering his earlier reluctance.
He raises an eyebrow at me, and I know immediately that I’ve evoked his competitive nature.
“Oh, I can dance, darlin’,” he says. He grips me firmly around the waist, pulling me to his chest, and I feel overwhelmed by his raw, masculine energy.
He lifts and twirls me with ease, as if I’m as light as air.
Everything else falls away. When the music stops, so do we, breathless and flushed.
I gaze up at Ace, surprised to see the desire I feel reflected in his eyes.
“Well, well, well, I can hardly believe my eyes, Ace dancing?” A woman purrs, slowly clapping.
We break apart suddenly, as if caught doing something we shouldn’t.
The woman who has intruded on our intimate moment is tall and thin, with long dark hair and angular features.
She’s wearing a figure-hugging dress that leaves little to the imagination while still looking classy. Her makeup is flawless; she’s stunning.
“Cherri,” Ace grunts, back to his stoic self. I’m ashamed of the part of me that’s glad he doesn’t seem pleased to see her.
“So, who’s the lucky girl who finally convinced you to show off those dance moves?” she asks. I feel intimidated and small under her scrutiny as she sizes me up and finds me wanting.
“I’m Naomi,” I say, extending my hand, which she ignores.
“She’s under our protection,” Ace hastens to add. I wonder why he feels the need to clarify this. Who is this woman?
“It looks like she’s under more than that.” Cherri laughs, the sound hollow and fake. “Do your brothers want to share her, too? Or is she not good enough for them either?” she adds bitterly.
Ace’s voice comes out in a low growl, a warning. “Cherri…”
She tosses her hair over her shoulder and places a possessive hand on his chest. “Always so serious,” she pouts.
“I’m just teasing, Ace.” She looks over at me, a small smug smile on her pretty face that doesn’t show her teeth.
“Ace and I used to date.” I can tell she relishes sharing that she got there first, as if she has some sort of proprietary claim on him.
She studies me closer, a small crease appearing on her forehead that transforms into a frown.
Just as I’m wondering what the hell I’ve done to offend her, her head snaps back to Ace, and her touch becomes aggressive, gripping his shirt in her fists, her eyes filled with fire as she glares at him.
“Please, tell me this whore isn’t wearing my fucking pants,” she snarls.
My stomach drops with embarrassment. I knew I shouldn’t have worn these pants again. It was okay that one time when I had nothing else, but I shouldn’t have borrowed them again tonight. “I’m so sorry, it’s a long story, but I had nothing else to wear and…” I start babbling, trying to explain.
Ace gently but firmly removes Cherri’s hands from him. “You didn’t want them, and Naomi needed them,” he says calmly.
“I can give them back to you,” I start to say, but she cuts me off.
“Keep them. I don’t want them anyway, they’re too trashy. I got them for a Halloween costume. It’s actually kinda pathetic that you wore them,” she says scathingly, looking every inch the queen bitch as she looks down her nose at me. I feel about ten inches tall.
“Enough,” Ace says coldly. “Just because I broke up with you doesn’t give you the right to talk to my friends that way. I think you should leave.”
Cherri looks as if she wants to argue further, her eyes filled with wrath and envy, but then she spots Gage and Cash making their way over.
“Whatever. I was just about to leave. This place is still lame, and you and your pathetic friends are clearly still as co-dependent as before.” She turns that killer snark toward Ace.
“When are you gonna grow up and become a real man? The kind that starts a family and quits living with his buddies like some frat boy. Newsflash, you’re not getting any younger, and trust me, no woman will want to fuck a guy like you in a few years. ”
Ace looks unimpressed by her remarks, as if he’s heard them all before. Gage and Cash reach us. “You still after Ace? I see nothing’s changed,” Gage quips, his tone light but his words cutting.
“Still pining after his scraps?” she snaps back at Gage.
“Says the woman who couldn’t handle the fact I didn’t want her,” Gage drawls.
Wordlessly, Cash has moved between Cherri and me, standing sentinel like a bodyguard.
With no comeback to Gage and noticing Cash’s protectiveness, Cherri gives up with her attempts at causing trouble.
“I’d watch your back with these three. Unless you’re the kind of slut who wants to fuck all three, I’d steer well clear,” she warns me, trying to sound callous and uncaring, but the tremor in her voice betrays her hurt feelings from the sting of rejection.
Holding her head high, Cherri turns on her heel and strides out of the bar, pushing her way past irritated patrons on the way out.
Ace sighs, dejected. “Well, I think the party’s over. Let’s go home.”
None of us argues, the fun, carefree atmosphere from earlier has been sapped away, leaving us melancholy and silent on the taxi ride home, lost in our own thoughts.
I’m left reeling by the encounter. Why was she so threatened by me? And what was she talking about? Do the guys really want to share one woman? Are they really into that? For some reason rather than be horrified by that thought, I’m kind of intrigued. And turned on by the idea.
What does that make me?
I have to admit that I’m attracted to all three of them.
I already have feelings for Gage that grow stronger every day.
I’m developing them for Cash. There are hidden depths to him that I have to admit are alluring, a dark sexual energy I want to unleash.
And even though Ace and I fight like cat and dog, I have to admit that there’s passion there.
Perhaps we don’t hate each other; maybe it’s something else, something primal between us.
Could I really explore my feelings without hurting anyone?
Would it ever be possible to have a relationship with all three? Am I wrong for wanting that?