Chapter 15 Dakota
DAKOTA
“Lash! Stiff! Jackal!” Logan comes running so fast he trips over his own feet.
Only Jackal’s quick hands save him, stopping Logan with his nose only an inch off the ground, then hauls him back onto his feet by his backpack. “Take it easy, buddy. We’re not going anywhere.”
Diana gives me a questioning look. She pulls me to the side, her eyes locked on the guys. “Who are they?”
“Old friends of the family. They’re helping me with Georgia’s apartment. I’ll see you tomorrow!”
Her eyes follow us all the way back to the car and motorcycles.
“Can I ride?” Logan looks hopefully up at Stiff, who’s closest.
I shake my head vehemently. “No way, José. Into the car seat like usual.”
He sighs like I just killed his dreams.
“Your mom’s right,” Jackal says, backing me up. “It’s not safe, but we’ll look into something so you get a try another day, okay?”
Logan lights up at that, and grins all the way from pre-school to the burger place Stiff picked out. And if he was lit up before, he’s practically a shining beacon when he sees the inside. There’s a whole room with arcade and pinball games. It’s not quite Pizza Castle, but close.
His eyes are big as saucers. “I wanna play!”
“Food first.” I cut him off at the pass and steer him over to the counter.
A couple minutes later, we’ve found a table without direct line of sight to the games so Logan can focus long enough to get some food in him before going wild.
He’s sitting between Lash and Jackal, beaming.
Watching Lash with Logan, it makes me wonder what Lash’s little brother would say about their relationship as children.
I bet Lash was a lot more important to Eric than he thinks.
None of them treat him like most adults treat kids.
They talk to him like he’s a little biker, with slightly less swearing, and Logan is eating it up.
I probably look like a love-struck teenager the way I’m sitting here with my vanilla milkshake and just watching them.
I always wished Logan had a dad that wasn’t a useless asshole, and this is exactly how I imagine that would be.
Maybe not the motorcycles or the weapon-shaped bulges under their clothes, but the rest? Yeah.
As soon as the last fry is stuffed in Logan’s mouth like a hamster, he’s out of his seat. I start to pull a twenty out of my wallet so he can buy credits, but Jackal stops me. “We’ve got it.”
“Be careful, he’s not a cheap date,” I warn.
They take off, Logan’s gangly legs pumping while the men keep up with easy strides, Lash throws a wink my way over his shoulder.
Stiff nudges my foot with his boot. “We’re good, right? You and me?”
“Yeah, totally.” I dip a fry in my milkshake and suck the salty ice cream off before chewing.
“The other night was just…” Was just the first time in over two years that I’ve had an orgasm involving someone else and it was from humping on the couch.
That’s totally not an embarrassing thing for a grown adult. “Fun.”
I dip a second fry, but before I can eat it, he leans over and steals it straight out of my fingers with his mouth. His beard tickles my hand, and his hot tongue flicks over my thumb. “Hey!”
“Hmmm, not bad, but I think it would be better with chocolate.”
“Obviously not,” I scoff. “It’s too many flavors. More is not always better.”
“Sometimes it is, though. Come on, I haven’t played pinball in years.” He takes my hand and tugs me out of the booth.
We get a card from the desk and fill it with credits. The pinball machines are lined up against a wall away from the room with the arcade machines. They’ve got six of them, and they all seem to have a theme, like superheroes or aliens. I have no idea where to start.
“I’ve never played pinball in real life,” I admit. “My Dad’s computer had a pinball game, but it’s probably not the same.”
“It’s the same general idea. All of these have different tracks, and if you pay attention, they usually tell the story of whatever the theme is. Pick one.”
I look at the line of mostly identical looking machines and my eye catches on one that looks like a shipwreck with a treasure chest and a pirate flag. “That one.”
“Okay. Let’s give it a shot.” He puts the card in the machine and it lights up, playing a jaunty fanfare.
“Ye’ll ne’er get yer filthy mitts on me treasure, yarr!” a gravelly pirate voice announces confidently as lights race around the complicated track under the glass.
This is cheesy as heck. I look over the table, trying to figure out what all the little doodads are supposed to do. “I know the basic ideas with the flippers, but if it’s more complicated than that I’m in trouble.”
“First, get in position. You wanna be stable and with your shoulders relaxed, ready to react.” He puts his big hands on my hips and shifts me into position. His hands are warm, even through my jeans, and the way his touch lingers is more than friendly.
“Okay, show me.”
His hands don’t leave my hips as he steps up right behind me, so close that I can feel the heat of him on my back.
“It’s all about the timing. I’ll help you get the feel of it.
” Reaching around me, he places his hands over mine on the sides of the pinball table, so that his fingers can push mine to hit the side buttons.
He traces his fingertips over my skin and speaks with a quiet husk into my ear that gives me goosebumps, “The buttons are real sensitive, so all you need is a light touch.”
“You sound like you have a lot of practice.”
“I have enough.” He takes his right hand off mine. “Pull the plunger, real smooth, just the right tension… and when you’re ready, release.”
How is he making pinball sound sexy? The resistance is stronger than I expect, but I pull the knob back as far as I can get it and let go.
It slams into the little spring and a steel ball shoots up the right side to start bouncing around.
Lights flash, bells ding and the voice yells, “Ye shivered me timbers, arr!”
“Quick, fingers back on the buttons.”
Right. I grip the sides of the table, and immediately Stiff covers my hands again. He draws a sharp breath like something just hurt.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, just my arm, it stings sometimes. Nothing to worry about. Old injury.” He pushes closer to see over me, and my mind goes blank, remembering what he felt like beneath me on the couch.
The ball comes rolling down towards the flippers, speeding up as it comes closer. “It’s—”
“All timing. Just hit it—-now.” His finger pushes my finger, and the flipper catches the ball just before it vanishes into the gap at the end of the table.
It launches back up at full speed into a metal ramp that carries it around a spiral, slamming open a little door before falling into what looks like a wooden barrel.
The game yells, “Right in me best barrel o’ rum? Ye’ll pay for that, landlubbers! Yarr!”
I barely notice. A new ball pops out from the launcher, but how am I supposed to concentrate with Stiff right up behind me like this?
He plays like a pro, and I’m just along for the ride.
Every movement he makes launches the ball, via my fingers, into a new spot that makes the machine spin, ding or mock us with its fake pirate voice.
But also every move presses him against me, and it’s very, very distracting.
“Not me booty!” the game cries out.
I manage to hold it in for exactly two seconds before I burst out laughing. The ball zooms past the flippers unhindered, accompanied by maniacal pirate laughter. I twist in his arms so we’re facing each other. “You plundered his poor booty!”
Stiff laughs. He leans back and his hands move from the pinball machine to my waist. “I’d rather plunder yours.”
“I’ll think about it. You’re apparently quite talented.” I’m not sure that came out as much of a joke as it sounded in my head. The moment hangs between us, silly but not. My smile slips.
“What’s going on in there?” He taps the side of my head.
“I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Which part?”
“All of it? I’m so glad you guys have been here to help me, but I feel guilty because it’s not really your problem, and then I remember the only reason you’re here is because my sister is gone, and I feel even guiltier for laughing or kissing or just not being sad all the time.”
“You’re allowed to be human.” There’s no flirtiness left in his voice, just empathy.
“I told you I was hurt in a fight at the club. It was more than that. My name? Stiff? I was Duke before that, but the day the Vipers attacked, I was one of the first on scene, and I had to choose between my own life and buying my brothers time. I chose them, and I died for it. After everything was over, they pulled my corpse off the ground and managed to find a pulse. This life I’m living now is all bonus time.
And I had so much fucking guilt for so long about all the people who didn’t get that same chance. ”
“It’s not all gone yet, is it?”
He looks like he wants to deny it, but then shakes his head. “Nah, it isn’t, but it’s not there all the time like it used to be. It’s still fresh for you, and right now you have a whole lot of shit to distract you. Doesn’t mean you didn’t love her.”
“Logically I know you’re right, but it’s hard.”
“It’s been what? Three days? Give yourself a break.
You’re doing your best and you have a kid to think about that doesn’t understand what any of this means.
Maybe you don’t see it, but every time he gets nervous, he looks to you to see how he’s supposed to react.
He needs to see that it’s okay to be sad, but it’s okay to not let it destroy you.
” Stiff presses a soft kiss to my forehead.
“And maybe he doesn’t need to see it, but it’s okay to let us be part of what distracts you. ”
I can feel the smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. “How would you distract me?”
He runs his fingers through his beard, thinking, then gets close to whisper in my ear. “I’d get Logan a babysitter, bring you back to the club and fuck you until your throat’s raw from screaming our names.”
“Our?” The word comes out in a ragged squeak.
“So long as I get to watch, remember?” His breath skirts over my ear, a pulse of heat that travels a lot farther than it should.
“I can’t believe you just said that. I’m pretty sure a lot of people would say that is definitely not the right way.” I feel terrible for laughing, but it feels good too.
“Landlubber, are ye there? Still two more chances to score my booty! Yarr!!” The number of chances comes out in a completely different voice from the pirate, like it was recorded separately by an entirely different person.
It doesn’t matter how serious this conversation got, there’s no way either of us keeps a straight face through that.
Stiff folds, his forehead hitting my shoulder as his back shakes with laughter. “You had to pick this one.”
“It has the best booty in the room. We should probably finish playing before it yells at us again.”
He kisses me quickly before I turn back around to pretend I’m playing pinball while he does all the work.
Things feel easier between us, and while he stays close and it’s a little flirty, he doesn’t push.
And when Logan and the others come over to find us, we find a stool for Lo to stand on so Stiff can teach him how to play, too.