Chapter 6 Isla #2
“Geez, babe,” Karlie says, her voice rough. “I’ve been in bed for three hours. What’s up?”
“Can you meet me for lunch?”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
Karlie chooses a dive bar two blocks away, one with sticky tables and fried food that is cheap but tastes great. She’s already there when I arrive, her long wavy hair spilling over a low-cut tank top.
“You must be freezing,” I say, hugging my friend.
“God, you leave the club for a hot second, and you’re suddenly the mom fashion police.”
I nudge her back to her seat playfully. “Shut up.”
“So, what happened that requires greasy food? And I ordered you a lemonade, seeing as you’re working. You’re welcome.”
“Thank you.” I take a sip of the zesty and cold drink. “Smoke came into the vet with Quinn’s dog.”
“Urgh, Quinn,” Karlie says, rolling her eyes. “So desperate to hook up with her sister’s ex.”
Once upon a time, I would have joined in the bitching. But it’s hard to see the wrong in Quinn anymore. She went through a lot, has become a capable businesswoman, running her own bakery, and is now happily married to a man she loves.
I wonder how I turned that into a crime in my own head.
“They’re married. I’d say they’re long past the hooking-up stage.”
Karlie grins. “Yeah. But bikers rarely stay faithful, let alone married.”
“Anyway, he stared at me. Nothing inappropriate. Just like he expected me to be the same as before.”
She shrugs. “Why wouldn’t he? You kinda disappeared. No warning. One day, you’re at every party; the next day, you vanished. Jackal asked about you. Like, yesterday.”
My heart stumbles. “Jackal was asking?”
“Just how you were and had any of us spoken to you recently. Sounded like he was concerned.” She gestures to my scrub top. “Although, I can see why this version of you is throwing them all off. At least cinch the waist of that thing or something. It’s like a turquoise nightmare.”
I glance down at my outfit. “It’s my uniform for work; it’s not a fashion parade. And I guess you should know, Jackal and Shade are now my neighbors.” A flush creeps up my cheeks. “I didn’t know until I moved in. Was a bit of a surprise to see them, to be honest.”
“Oh my God,” Karlie says, her eyes going wide. “How’s it going?”
I shrug, helplessly. “They keep to themselves. Jackal helped me dig out some fence posts. And Shade tried to help me clean the gutters, but I told him no. Anyway, I popped out to do some grocery shopping, and when I came back, the gutters had been cleared and all the crap from them was on the compost pile Nanna used.”
Karlie laughs. “Please. While Shade might keep to himself, Jackal definitely doesn’t. He talks to everyone. It’s like God took the world’s chattiest man and made him best friends with someone who chooses to be silent. Have they invited you over?”
“No.”
Karlie leans in. “You ever want them to? Because no one has managed to get either of them into bed, yet. You’d be the talk of the girls if you pulled it off.”
I twist the lemonade straw as I try to bite down the battling feelings the question provokes. At first, there’s fear of being alone in an enclosed space with two bikers. But also, the idea of it being Jackal and Shade causes a quiet excitement in my belly.
I sigh and shake my head.
Wanting a biker is what got me into this mess. Even allowing my brain to drift for a moment is reckless and goes against the work I’ve been doing on myself.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Karlie says. “Spill.”
“I just want what’s mine. What I really want. Something that genuinely feels good and right for me. Everything else feels so…contaminated. Like I became a character of what I thought men wanted from me.”
Karlie’s expression shifts. Not quite empathy. Something…sharper. “Are you saying the rest of us are contaminated?”
“God, no. That’s not what I mean at all.”
“Because I’m still very much a club girl,” she says, sitting back. “Still like what I like. Still enjoy being wanted. Still enjoy the sex. Still want a biker to care for me. If you’re saying that makes me messed up—”
“I’m not!” I reach across the table for her hand, holding it tightly. “I swear I’m not judging you. I’m not judging anyone.”
Except, perhaps, myself.
“Could’ve fooled me.”
I swallow back the tears of frustration.
Of not being understood. “I swear. I’m only talking about me.
I spent so long performing and faking. Pretending I was game for anything, when the truth is it broke a piece of me each time I did something I knew I didn’t want to, but smiled anyway.
I’m not judging you. I’m trying to understand why I can’t trust myself to make good decisions for me. ”
“Okay,” she says. “I hear that.”
I wipe my cheek.
“Hey.” She nudges my foot beneath the table. “I guess our experiences were different. Because even in the club, I’ve always known myself. I understand that you didn’t.”
A shaky breath escapes me. “No. I didn’t.”
“Then carry on doing what you’re doing. Live in your house. Stay away. Touch grass and deprogram.”
“Thanks, Karlie.”
“No worries. And because I love you, I won’t talk about Jackal again for the rest of lunch, so you don’t have to blush, and I don’t have to pretend I didn’t see it.”
“I do not blush.” But I put the back of my hand to my cheek, just to check.
She leans toward me. “But, honestly, if I lived across the street from those two? I’d be dreaming about getting sandwiched every damn night.”
Heat floods my thighs so fast, I choke on my next sip of lemonade.
Karlie grins, as if she knows what she’s doing. “I mean, they’re smoking hot, clean, steady jobs, steady roles, and weirdly private. Honestly, I think they’re gay. Or bi. Defo into each other. Never into the club girls.”
I’ve seen them together, Shade watching Jackal’s hands, Jackal watching Shade’s mouth. Their quiet protectiveness of each other. And yet, I’ve never seen them touch or flirt or kiss or do anything other than act like club brothers.
“I’ll say this last thing, Isla. I’m not suggesting you go jump between the two of them, but I am saying that wanting something isn’t bad.
Even fantasizing about something but never acting on it isn’t bad.
Whether it’s Jackal and Shade or anyone else.
You’re allowed to be attracted to whoever you’re attracted to. ”
“What if it scares me?” I whisper.
“Then try it anyway. Unless it scares you in an ‘I might end up dead’ way.”
“What if I never figure it out?”
“Then you get cats and books and die alone.” Her delivery is so deadpan, I laugh out loud.
“Reassuring. Now, what are you gonna eat?” I pick up the menu.
“I’m getting the burger. And for the record, if you ever do get sandwiched by those two, I expect to be the first to hear about it.”