Chapter 5
Sloane
“Kiddo!” Pops calls out, just before I hear the top step squeal under his weight. “You’re going to be late.”
I grin to myself, rolling over to dig deeper into my pillows. Last night I let him know that I was going out with Andrew tonight, more as a courtesy than anything else. After a few minutes of Pops telling me how much he liked the man, he then broached the subject of the motorcycle club.
“It’s not that I think you were sheltered growing up, but have you ever really experienced what their lives are like?” he asked me.
“Some of Dad’s buddies are in one not too far from home. He and Mom would bring us to the more family-friendly parties, especially once Beau was tall enough to drive,” I responded, grinning at Pop’s snort when he understood that Beau did not have a license at the time.
“While I get the impression that the Northern Grizzlies have mellowed, that could be wishful thinking since you and Vector are interested in each other,” he said, carefully choosing his words. “Things were pretty crazy under Jigsaw, so promise this old man that you’ll proceed with caution.”
Since Pops hasn’t come upstairs since the day I moved in, I’m wondering what’s on his mind now.
“I’m awake!” I call back. “I’m meeting a crew over on Long around ten.”
Standing up and reaching for a hoodie, I open the door to see him standing on the faulty step.
“I wanted to make sure I didn’t overstep last night,” he starts, giving me a tentative smile. “You make solid decisions and I—”
“No, Pops,” I cut him off, giving him a quick hug. “You were downright gentle compared to Mom when I was in high school.”
“I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know what all you got up to back then.” He tsks his tongue at me before turning to head back downstairs. “Just know you can always call me if you need a getaway driver!”
“The slowest getaway driver in the history of the world,” I retort in a whisper as I grip the banister, to see if he’ll reply.
“I keep telling you, there’s nothing wrong with my hearing,” he calls over his shoulder and I duck back into my room.
After experiencing one of the longest days ever, I shower and am nearly ready when I hear the roar of Vector’s bike coming up the street—which helps me decide on my outfit. There’s no way I’m going to flash Pops when I slide onto the pillion.
My grandfather and Vector are standing awkwardly in the foyer when I head downstairs, and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face when I have flashbacks to high school dances.
“Those are beautiful,” I say, indicating the flowers that my date is holding.
“Hands off, they’re mine,” Pops cracks just as Vector is opening his mouth.
“Well, they are for the night,” I say, giving him a kiss on the check. “Take good care of them for me and don’t wait up.”
Vector attempts to look annoyed but the way his eyes have lit up tells me how much he’s enjoying our nonsense. Reaching for my hand, he pulls me to his side as he hands the flowers to Pops. “Paul, you have my word.”
Now it’s my turn to look between the men and wonder what I missed.
Before I can ask, Vector leads me out to his bike, and we head toward the heart of our town.
“Oh! I haven’t been here yet,” I nearly squeal as he’s escorting me into an Italian restaurant that I keep wishing I had an occasion to go to.
He looks very pleased with himself until he sees the waiter attempting to put my napkin on my lap.
“An associate recommended it,” he says, with a shrug as he looks around at the other diners. “I hadn’t heard of it.”
A waiter promptly arrives with a bottle of wine that Vector tries to wave off. “Sir, it’s compliments of Brian Waretz. He called earlier to arrange it.”
With a flourish, he presents the label to Vector who looks uncertainly at me. “Did you want wine or something else?”
“Wine would be nice.” My reply sounds uncharacteristically timid, not certain what the correct answer is in this situation.
“For the lady then, I’ll have a beer,” Vector instructs the waiter, smiling when he sees I’ve raised my eyebrow at his formal response.
“Very good, I’ll return with a list. Would you like to hear the specials?”
Once the waiter leaves us, I lean closer to Vector to whisper, “I’ve seen that happen in a movie! I never thought it would happen to me, but are you okay with accepting a gift from whoever Brian is?”
“He’s my lawyer, so I’ve more than paid for that wine already,” he says with a chuckle before he rolls his eyes to indicate the elegant room. “Don’t go thinking this is how I live my life though.”
“It’s just fun to be here now. Fancy restaurants do not top the list of things I want out of life,” I assure him.
“What do you want out of life?” he asks, actually looking interested in my response.
Funny enough, the more we talk the clearer that picture of what I want, something I haven’t stopped to consider in a long time, becomes.
With minimal interruptions from the waiter, our conversation easily flows until I look up to notice that we’re the last customers left, and I’ve finished the bottle of wine on my own.
As he’s paying, I excuse myself to go to the restroom, confused about a sudden flash of something like relief, crossing his face.
He’s standing near the door, chatting with the waiter like they’re suddenly old friends, when I return. “Ready?” he asks, and I nod. “Good, I’ll get you home.”
Tilting my head in question, I’m wondering why he’s calling it a night when he continues. “I’ve got to ride out early tomorrow. You’re still planning on coming by on Thursday night, right?”
“Of course, you promised I’d get to meet your sister, after all!” I answer and get a grunt in return.
“I may need to rethink this,” he laughs before gunning his motorcycle.
*
As he rides off, I’m left shaking my head. Then it occurs to me that this was my first real date – complete with flowers and another kiss that shook me to the core.