Dates
Bonus Chapter
Coffee date confessions
Bones
I sit in the small corner booth of Belladonna Brew, trying my best not to glare openly at the tiny menace behind the counter.
Ria is humming to herself as she prepares our coffee, throwing me a sly, mischievous glance every few seconds, knowing exactly how to push my fucking buttons. Beside me, Temper is smiling, relaxed, blissfully unaware of the bullshit storm brewing.
I shift closer to her, feeling a surge of possessiveness as she leans into me slightly. The past few days have been surreal. The bike ride she asked for, the dinner — each one felt like I'm slowly reclaiming a piece of something I never thought I'd have again. I've been careful, patient, letting her set the pace. But having Ria nearby feels like dancing on a minefield.
"Here you go, lovebirds," Ria chirps, setting our coffees down. She slides into the booth opposite us, a smug smirk already on her face. "Isn't this just adorable? Biker brute, it's nice to see you drinking something I haven't poisoned."
I narrow my eyes, reaching reluctantly for the cup. "Still not trusting that."
Temper laughs softly, nudging my side. "She won't poison you, Bones. Not this time. She likes me too much."
Ria bats her eyelashes dramatically. "Oh, Tempe, you're so cute. But you're right. I wouldn't poison him...yet. He's still on probation."
"Keep it up, demon," I mutter, bringing the cup to my lips on reflex and then immediately setting it down, without drinking.
Temper shakes her head, clearly amused. "Ria, you can't harass him forever, you know. We're turning a new leaf."
"Oh, but he can handle it." Ria leans forward, eyes gleaming wickedly. "He's tougher than he looks. Trust me, I've tested him."
Something in her tone sends alarm bells clanging inside my head. Fucking suspicious. She's cooking something.
"Ria..." I groan, a warning in my voice.
Temper sits straighter, her gaze darting between the two of us, suspicion creeping into her expression. "What? What happened?"
Ria grins wide, ignoring my growl completely. "It's time I come clean about something, Tempe. You know, in the interest of honesty and friendship."
"Fucking hell," I mutter, running a hand over my face.
Temper narrows her eyes at Ria. "Spill it."
"Fine. You see, you took your revenge on biker boy here, but I felt like a little bit more was needed. Something to drive the point home for good, you know?"
Temper's brows furrow and then her eyes widen with delight. "Ummm...what did you do?"
"Oh, nothing much," Ria announces triumphantly. "I just stole his number from Tank's phone months ago, and—" she pauses dramatically, clearly savoring the moment, "I might've sent him a few details and some carefully selected old photos of you and Griffin from back when you two were still having your little 'fuck buddy' situation."
Temper's eyes widen more, mouth opening slightly in shock. Her head snaps toward me. "She what?"
I feel heat rise in my face, jaw clenched tight. "She fucking tortured me. Pretended that shit was still happening, sending me goddamn texts at all hours."
Ria shrugs unapologetically, eyes sparkling with amusement. "I only stopped just before the paintball match." She checks her nails, unbothered. "He needed to learn a lesson and I was more than happy to teach it."
Temper looks stunned, then slowly starts to laugh. Softly at first, but soon it's loud, full, genuine. She turns toward me, eyes dancing with humor. "You didn't think to ask me? You just let her torment you?"
I scowl, irritation mingling with embarrassment. "It wasn't my place to ask you shit back then. And even if I'd fucking asked you, you would've probably just confirmed everything, out of spite. I just..." I pause, glancing away, admitting reluctantly, "I couldn't fucking block her. Needed to know what was going on with you. Even if it drove me crazy."
Ria clasps her hands together, looking deeply satisfied. "The dildo of consequences rarely comes lubed, biker boy. I told you that once before. I figure by now you've learned that very important lesson."
Temper laughs harder, leaning into me, her hand touching my thigh in comfort. "She really knows exactly where to bite, doesn't she?"
"Yeah," I growl softly, relaxing against her touch, despite myself. "She stays true to her demon self. But I'd suffer the wrath of a thousand Rias to get to you, baby."
Ria makes an exaggerated gagging noise, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Disgustingly romantic. Get a fucking room."
Temper squeezes my leg lightly, her smile softening into something warmer. "Thanks for the honesty, Ria. I was wondering what happened and this one refused to say a word. And I kept forgetting to ask you. Just...dial down the sadism against Bones a little in the future, we're over that part now. We're trying something new."
"No promises," Ria grins wickedly, standing and brushing imaginary dust from her apron. "Anyway, my work here is done. Enjoy your coffee, lovebirds."
She saunters off, leaving us alone. Temper chuckles, turning to face me fully, her eyes tender. "You're a glutton for punishment, Bones."
I sigh, pulling her closer. "Maybe. But I'd rather suffer every damn day for a chance to be around you."
Her eyes soften completely, warmth flooding her expression. "Lucky for you, I don't plan on torturing you anymore."
I grin, feeling the tension drain away, replaced by something infinitely better. "Thank fuck for that."
Paintball rematch
Temper
The obstacle-ridden field stretches before me, bright splatters from the brothers fucking around with the paintball guns earlier decorating every surface. I grip my own gun tight, determination humming under my skin. Bones stands across from me, smug and confident, already looking like he thinks he's got this in the bag. The bastard.
"All right, baby, choose your warriors," he teases, folding his arms across his chest.
I narrow my eyes at him, feeling that familiar spark flare to life. "You're going down, big man."
He just chuckles, entirely too amused by my declaration.
I scan the small gathering of his brothers and prospects, picking carefully. "Ria," I say immediately. She grins like a maniac and practically skips to my side. "Hellbat, Fang, and Mindfuck."
Bones laughs, shaking his head. "You're really picking Mindfuck?"
"I like his style," I shoot back, grinning.
He raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. "If you like getting into arguments about fucking quantum physics mid-battle, he's all yours."
Mindfuck beams proudly, while Ria snorts beside me.
Bones quickly selects Tank, Domino, and a few prospects, his eyes gleaming with pure mischief. "Let's see what you can do."
I roll my shoulders, eyes narrowing further. "Oh, trust me. You won't be smiling so much when I cover your ass in paint."
He gives me a cocky smirk, taking position behind a large stack of wooden crates. "We'll see about that, baby."
The horn blares, and chaos erupts.
I immediately duck behind a barrel, shots whizzing by my head. Ria dives beside me, cursing under her breath.
"Cover me!" she yells and bolts forward. I pop out, peppering paint in Bones' direction. He ducks, rolls, and fires back with impossible precision.
Goddammit, he wasn't lying — he's not taking it easy on me.
Mindfuck tries distracting Domino with some bullshit mind game, something about paintballs existing in two states at once, before Domino just shoots him directly in the chest, splattering neon orange paint all over his black protective vest.
"Fuck!" Mindfuck yells, dramatically clutching his chest. "The pain is too real!"
I groan, shaking my head. "You're fucking useless!"
Ria giggles hysterically, practically dancing through the obstacles, covering Tank in vivid purple paint. Fang and Hellbat take down the prospects easily, but Bones and Domino prove annoyingly difficult to pin down.
I move quickly, sneaking through barriers, heart racing as I hunt my main target. A shadow moves nearby, and I whirl around, firing blindly. Bones is right there, ducking, paintballs missing by inches.
"Almost, baby!" He laughs, utterly infuriating.
"Shut up!" I snap, grinning despite myself. I chase after him, dodging paint, feeling like we're both fucking teenagers, lost in the thrill of competition.
But suddenly, he's gone.
I spin around, confused, until I feel a tap on my shoulder. Whipping around, I see him already at a distance, smiling like a fucking idiot, his paintball gun raised.
"Gotcha, baby."
A splat of paint hits me dead center on my vest. Neon orange. I stare down at it in disbelief.
"No fucking way," I gasp, stunned.
He laughs triumphantly, comes close and throws an arm around me. "You put up a hell of a fight."
I scowl at him, but it quickly turns into a reluctant smile. "Asshole."
He kisses the top of my head, chuckling again. "You love it."
Ria jogs over, panting. "You lost?" Her eyes widen dramatically, mock-horrified.
"Don't rub it in," I mutter, rolling my eyes.
She shakes her head, still grinning. "Damn, Tempe, I had money on you. Now I have to pay Tank."
Bones pulls me close, smugness radiating off him in waves. "There's always next time, baby."
I jab a finger into his chest. "Next time, I'm going to destroy you. Your ass is mine."
He leans in, eyes darkening with playful intensity. "Promises, promises."
Heat floods my cheeks, but I push him away, turning on my heel and heading toward the clubhouse.
"Cocky bastard!" I call over my shoulder.
His laughter trails after me, echoing with heat and something much deeper. "I'm counting on you demanding a rematch, baby!"
Dive bar date
Temper
The second we step into the bar, Bones stops short. His eyes narrow, his lips press into a thin line, and I watch him slowly scanning his surroundings like he's calculating an exit strategy. The place is filthy. The floors are sticky, the wooden bar counter is stained with God knows what, and the air smells like cheap whiskey and regret.
"Why the hell did you want to come here?" he mutters, turning his gaze to me.
I blink, looking around, only now fully registering what a goddamn mess this place is. The dim lighting does nothing to hide the peeling wallpaper, and the jukebox in the corner is playing some sad country song that makes me want to throw something at it.
"I only came here once three years ago." I wrinkle my nose, glancing at a suspicious-looking puddle on the floor. "I thought it might have gotten better, but it's actually worse. Do you want to leave?"
Bones smirks, tilting his head at me. "I don't mind it, baby. I just didn't think you'd like a place like this." His eyes glint with amusement.
I huff, crossing my arms. "We can have a great fucking time here, too! We don't need a fancy place to have fun."
His smirk deepens. "Oh yeah? Prove it."
Challenge accepted.
I drag him to the bar, ordering us a round of drinks. He only gets one beer — responsible biker — but I order a whiskey, determined to make the best of this train wreck of a bar. The first sip burns, but it's the good kind of burn. The kind that settles deep in my blood and makes me feel alive.
Then I spot the dartboard.
I grab his hand, pulling him toward it. "Let's make a bet."
He raises a brow. "You sure you wanna do this, baby?"
"Scared I'll beat you?" I taunt, grinning.
His laughter is dark, low. "I don't lose, Temper."
I roll my eyes and hand him the first dart. "We'll see about that."
An hour later...I'm losing. Badly.
Bones is a goddamn sniper with those darts, hitting bullseye after bullseye while I struggle to even hit the board half the time. I blame the whiskey.
He's enjoying this way too much, grinning at me after every perfect throw, knowing damn well I'm getting more frustrated by the second.
"This is fucking rigged," I grumble, narrowing my eyes at the board.
"It's not rigged, baby. You just suck at darts." He takes a slow sip of his beer, his smugness radiating off him like heat.
"I do not!"
He smirks. "Oh, you definitely suck—"
I throw a dart at him. Not aimed to hit, of course, but the fucker still dodges it, laughing.
I'm fuming. And also, maybe a little bit turned on by how damn good he looks when he's so sure of himself.
"You could at least pretend to miss a shot," I grumble, watching as he sinks yet another bullseye like it's child's play.
He grins, cocky as hell. "Now why would I do that? I like watching you squirm, baby."
I roll my eyes, picking up my next dart. I try to focus, try to line up my shot, but I can feel him watching me. The weight of his gaze, the barely contained amusement in his expression.
I throw.
I miss.
By a lot.
Bones laughs, full and deep, the kind that rumbles through his chest. "Baby, that wasn't even close."
I glare at him. "I was distracted."
His smirk deepens. "By what?"
I huff, turning back to the board. "By your stupid fucking face."
That only makes him laugh harder.
It goes on like this for another ten minutes, me cursing and trying to land a decent shot, him playing like a fucking professional. The worst part? He doesn't even look like he's trying. He's just that good.
I take a long sip of my whiskey, eyes narrowing. "This game is definitely rigged."
He chuckles, stepping behind me. He places his hands on my waist, his chest flush against my back. "Alright, let me help you." His voice is low, teasing. His breath warm against my ear.
Oh. Oh.
He adjusts my grip on the dart, guiding my hand with his. His other hand stays on my hip, fingers pressing lightly into my skin. He smells like leather and whiskey and him, and now I'm definitely distracted for real.
"You paying attention, baby?" His lips brush my ear.
Absolutely not.
"Mhm." I nod anyway, trying to appear unaffected.
"Good," he murmurs. "Now, aim... and throw."
I do.
And for the first time all night, I actually hit the damn board.
Not a bullseye, but at this point, I'll take it.
I gasp, triumphant. "Holy shit! I did it!"
Bones chuckles, lips brushing my temple. "Told you."
I spin around in his arms, grinning. "Maybe you're not completely useless."
He smirks. "Careful, baby. You're getting real brave."
I poke his chest. "I'm always brave."
Before he can respond, the song playing in the bar changes. It's... awful. Some old country song that's way too twangy, with lyrics that don't make any sense.
Bones groans. "What the fuck is this?"
I start laughing. "I have no idea."
And then, in a burst of boldness — or maybe just a whiskey-induced impulse — I grab his hand. "Dance with me."
He stares at me, incredulous. "To this?"
"Yes!" I tug him toward the open space near the jukebox. "Come on, big man. Show me what you've got."
He grumbles something under his breath, but he follows me. He always does.
I loop my arms around his neck, swaying us to the music. His hands settle on my waist, warm and steady. The song is terrible, but somehow, this moment is perfect.
I look up at him, smiling. "See? We can have fun anywhere."
His lips twitch. "I never said we couldn't."
I hum, resting my head against his chest. "I think I like drunk me. She makes great decisions."
Bones laughs, pressing a kiss to my hair. "Yeah, baby. She does."
We keep dancing, slow and easy, the world fading around us. It's just us, the music, the warmth of his body against mine.
Then the song changes again. And this time, it's fast. Loud. Some chaotic rock song that makes the speakers crackle.
Bones pulls back slightly, smirking. "Still want to dance, baby?"
I smirk right back. "You bet your ass I do."
We end up making a complete spectacle of ourselves, jumping around, spinning each other, laughing so hard my stomach hurts. I don't even care that people are staring. I don't care that I'm probably going to be sore tomorrow from all the terrible dance moves I just attempted.
I'm having fun.
With him.
And it feels... good. Right. Like it was always meant to be like this.
By the time we collapse into our seats, I'm spent. I lean against Bones, giggling into his shoulder.
He chuckles, brushing my hair out of my face. "You're gonna feel that in the morning."
"Worth it," I mumble.
Then I yawn.
Then I sway.
Bones steadies me with a hand on my thigh, laughing softly. "Alright, baby. Time to get you home."
I nod sleepily. "Take me home, big man."
He presses a kiss to my forehead, then pulls out his phone.
I frown. "What're you doing?"
"Calling Mindfuck."
I groan. "Why?"
Bones smirks. "Because you had too much fun, and I'm not letting you ride on the back of my bike like this."
I pout. "I can still ride—"
"No, baby. You can barely sit."
I huff but don't argue. Mostly because I know he's right.
His phone rings, and when Mindfuck picks up, Bones sighs. "I need you to bring me a cage."
A gasp. Loud. Dramatic. I'm leaning so much into Bones that I can hear Mindfuck through the phone. "Bones? Asking for a cage? Is the world ending? Is the sky falling? Are pigs flying? Should I start building an underground bunker?"
"Just bring the fucking cage, asshole."
Mindfuck snickers. "On my way, lover boy."
He hangs up, grumbling. "I will fucking kill him one of these days."
I giggle against his shoulder. "You won't. You secretly like how annoying he is."
He groans. "I tolerate him. There's a difference."
I sigh, nuzzling into his side. "You like his annoying ass."
His arm tightens around me, and I feel his lips brush against my temple. "The only annoying ass I like is yours, baby. I actually love it."
And that...is the perfect way to end the night.