Chapter One #2
Unexpectedly, Shiloh’s throat closed up as her emotions threatened to spill over. She took a few deep breaths, forcefully pushing down any kind of feeling. They never did her any good.
“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for letting me come and live with you. I had nowhere to go, so you threw me a life preserver. And I promise not to get in your way—”
“Shiloh, I’ve been waiting for you to move out here with me for a long time.” She reached over and took her hand. “Do you remember freshman year? When I had that crush on Earle Pitt? He was a senior and captain of the football team.”
Shiloh nodded.
“And I wrote that stupid love note to him that he decided to show everyone how stupid I was?”
Again, Shiloh nodded.
“I knew we were going to be friends forever when you punched Earle in the face and got detention for a week. I vowed, if you ever needed me, I’d move heaven or hell to be there for you.”
Shiloh squeezed her hand and hoped Vette knew that was code for you are now stuck with me for life.
“Come on,” Vette said, smiling. “I’m excited for you to see your room.”
Shiloh grabbed her suitcase and followed her into the house. The foyer had the living room and kitchen combo on one side of the house, and the bedrooms and bathroom on the other side.
“The indoor outhouse is all yours. I have an ensuite.”
“This is awesome.”
Vette beamed and led her to the bedroom in front. “And this is your space!”
Shiloh stepped inside, and something calm settled over her. She dropped her suitcase on the bed, overwhelmed with happiness.
This was now my home. Mine. I had a door I didn’t need to lock. There wasn’t one crucifix to be seen, and I don’t have to worry about my things disappearing.
“Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Vette clapped her hands as she jumped up and down. “Okay! Well, pick out your best outfit because we are going to celebrate your arrival.”
“I don’t know—”
Vette held up her hand, cutting her off mid-sentence. “No ifs, ands, or buts. The front desk receptionist at my work, his name is Nick, said he’d meet us at the Tipsy Bison bar. I’ve been talking about you so much he wants to meet you.”
“This isn’t a setup, is it?”
“Not for you.”
“Ah,” Shiloh said with a smirk. “Getting your groove on?”
Vette fanned herself with her hand. “I’ve been wanting that groove for a long time.”
****
Nick didn’t come alone. Much to Shiloh’s consternation, he brought a friend named Paul to even out their threesome.
She knew Vette meant well, but it put all her self-defenses on red alert.
As she looked between Nick and Vette, she realized he was as into her as she was into him.
Paul was there to make sure Shiloh wasn’t a third wheel, and that annoyed her a little.
She didn’t like socializing all that much and could’ve easily stayed home, but Vette was excited, and she didn’t want to be a damper on her enthusiasm, so she smiled and followed along.
Nick was a nice enough guy. Paul seemed cool too, but she had moved to Cheyenne to make a new life, not fall back into old habits.
To cope with the loss of her father, she drank a lot, smoked weed a lot, and had fucked a lot.
None of it helped. Then that night happened, and it almost destroyed her all over again.
“Wow, Vette was right about you,” Paul said. “You’re beautiful. Are you a model?”
“Oh, thanks and no.”
She wasn’t stupid, and she had heard that type of flattery before.
While nice, she knew she was fairly attractive, but there was nothing spectacular.
Beauty was suggestive, and she’d fallen for a pretty phrase in the past. The last thing she wanted was another man giving praise in order to get into her pants.
“My friends are gonna be envious when I walk in with you on my arm,” Paul continued.
And now Paul was on her shit list.
“You know, I’m a little tired,” she said. “Why don’t you guys go have fun tonight without me?”
Vette stepped up and reached for her hand, then glanced at Nick. “You guys go start the car. We’ll be right there.”
Nick nodded, then looked at Shiloh like she was a problem. It was the same look she’d gotten her whole life from her stepfather. When he and Paul were gone, Vette gently squeezed her hand.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t want you to feel pressured or awkward. That wasn’t my intention.”
Shiloh sighed. “No, it’s me. I don’t want to be on someone’s arm. That’s not why I moved to Cheyenne.”
“I know. I just thought a night of drinks and music would be fun.”
She knew it wasn’t Vette’s fault that she was an awkward mess.
“Thanks, Vette,” she whispered. “I don’t mean to be a downer. Let’s go.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yep. Once in a while, I’m going to need you to yank me out of my shell.”
Vette smiled. “Deal.”
She pulled her into her arms and hugged her tight.
At first, Shiloh stiffened. Hugs meant harm, but she forced herself to remember this was her new life.
A new beginning. Which meant she had to step outside her non-existent comfort zone, so she awkwardly hugged her back.
It felt odd, and she didn’t know where to put her hands.
Vette must have felt her uneasiness because he pulled back and let her go.
“All right,” Vette said with a smile and a decisive nod. “If at any time you want to leave, let me know and we’re out of there. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Nick offered to be the designated driver.
Vette slid into the passenger seat, leaving her and Paul to sit in the back.
Thank goodness Paul seemed to have gotten the message because he was now laid back and cool.
Shiloh kept her distance and didn’t flirt at all.
That was not her M.O. The last thing she needed or wanted was some guy thinking they had a claim on her.
Nick found a parking spot about a block away from the bar.
While Nick and Vette talked and laughed, she followed, and Paul kept pace.
Occasionally he interjected into their conversation.
The night was cool, and the closer they got to the bar, the louder the music.
Inside was noisy and crowded, and she loved that there was something besides her own thoughts pounding in her head.
It reminded her a little of a cattle pen trying to pack as many cows into a small space as possible. In some places, it was hard to maneuver past the bodies. Men wore either cowboy hats or baseball caps. Girls walked by with ass cheeks playing peek-a-boo with their hemlines.
“Oh my fucking god!” Vette squealed. “There are so many hotties in here! I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
“Hey now,” Nick growled good-naturedly, and Shiloh wondered about their situation. Friends with benefits? If not, it looked like it was headed in that direction.
Reaching the bar, she did a sweep around the room.
The males outnumbered the females, and all she saw were men who were either players or wannabe players, and she wasn’t sure which category was worse.
The bumping and grinding on the dance floor held no appeal, nor did the darkened swanky corners designed for coping a feel.
“I love this song!” Vette yells. She grabbed her hand. “Come on, let’s dance!”
Shiloh didn’t recognize the song playing through the speakers, but couldn’t imagine touching the sea of sweaty body parts. She pulled her hand away and gestured a shooing motion.
“Go on. Take Nick. I’m gonna get a drink.”
Vette cocked her head, ready to argue, but Shiloh nodded to the dance floor. She winked and grabbed Nick’s hand. Paul stood beside her, clearly undecided what he should do.
“Go ahead,” she told him. “I’m good.”
He shot her a lopsided grin and a second later he got lost in the writhing sea of people.
Shiloh made her way over to the bar and pulled out a twenty.
She asked for a soda, and the bartender nodded.
He was what Vette would call a hottie, with big muscles and a flirtatious grin.
A second later, he set the drink in front of her, and she held out the money, but he waved it off.
“We don’t charge the double D’s,” he said.
She glanced down at her chest. Clearly, he wasn’t talking about her bust line. “The what?”
He laughed. “Designated driver.”
She didn’t correct him. Free was free, and she was working on limited funds. So, she raised her drink to salute him. He winked and went back to pouring drinks. A stool opened up, and she took it, not minding one bit that she sat in the bar and was happy looking around to watch people.
As her eyes adjusted better to the low lighting, she noticed a man at the pool table, laughing his ass off as another man apparently told him something hilarious.
He was different than the other men looking for a good time.
Tight jeans. White t-shirt. Black vest with patches she couldn’t make out.
Tattoos decorated his arms and neck, making her wonder if he had them in other places.
Clearly, he was a biker. Although he was by no means pretty, there was something about him that was striking.
Broad cheekbones and wide, expressive lips formed over a jaw so chiseled it must have been carved from marble.
His dark hair was buzzed in the back but longer up front, giving him a windswept look.
Not many faces could pull the look off, but this man managed to make it sexy. Everything about him screamed bad boy.
As if sensing he was being watched, he suddenly looked around the bar until his gaze met hers, locking them together with intensity.
Something inside her shifted. The bar melted away, the music muted, and for a whole minute of eternity, they stared at one another.
The world faded away, leaving them in the aether that consisted of only him and her.
Never had she felt something so ... raw and powerful.
It made her want to run away and hide.