“‘How Soon is Now’. By the Smiths? It was one of the Bowman’s favorites.” I still remember him playing it over and over on the jukebox early Saturday afternoons at the Den. I was just a kid then, but the melody has been permanently burned into my brain.
“Done,” he agrees.
“Thanks.” We knock fists.
The gathering lasts a while longer after Fender leaves. Everyone is just chillin’ out, drinking, eating, and cooing over the newest addition to the Parish family.
“Breaker, you up for a ride before we head to the Den?” Vet asks.
“You know it, man. It’s a beautiful day. Let’s take advantage.” I smile. It’s not like there’s a shortage of beautiful California days. But any excuse for a ride, even if it’s bullshit, is a good one.
I say my goodbyes to Gambit and Kristen, and then make my way over to Ky who’s standing ridiculously close to Kira.Jesus, let the girl breathe.
“See you tonight?” I ask, with a hand clasp.
“I’ll be there. Just gonna hang around and play with my pussy for a little while first.” He peers down at Kira as he scratches her kitten between the ears.
“Dude.” I shake my head, trying not to bust up laughing. He’s got problems.
Ky beams at me, knowing I can read between the lines. He’s a twisted motherfucker sometimes. But ya can’t not love him.
“Later, Kira.” My lips are cemented with a smirk.
“Bye, Damon,” she responds sweetly, the kitten tucked securely under her chin.
I catch up to the others walking to the front of the house. The pebbled drive looks like a Harley Davidson parking lot.
Strapping on my jockey helmet, a symphony of engines disturbs the peaceful surroundings. It’s a beautiful sound.
The lot of us takes off, heading for the open road, a combination of exhilaration and relaxation pumping through my bloodstream.
This is it, my tiny slice of happiness. The happiness I cling to with both hands, because now that the Bowman’s gone, I have no idea how long it’s going to last.
* * *
It’s pushing eleven.
I’ve got a nice buzz going on, and the atmosphere in the Den is electric. It’s packed with people, all here to see Fender perform. He’s got a reputation on the music scene. He was one signature away from a huge music deal, but bad habits and worse decisions let it all slip through his fingers. When I say he fell from grace, I mean it. The man went splat and has been scraping himself off the pavement ever since. He’s come a long way, but is convinced he has even farther to go.
Currently, he’s crooning away a Kid Rock/Sheryl Crow duet with one of the Club’s ol’ ladies. They sound amazing, and everyone is spellbound. It’s nothing new. Fender has no problem hypnotizing a crowd.
Speaking of hypnotic, Harley, the bartender, has some enchantments of her own. Specifically, humongous boobs, killer curves, and come-fuck-me eyes. She does it to me every time. Every, fucking, time.
Watching her behind the bar all night is like foreplay. A smile here, a bat of her eyelashes there, a flash of her cleavage everywhere. She makes my attraction to her thump to the beat of the music. Fast or slow, upbeat or not, I feel it in my pants with every projecting note.
“Hey.” I grab Vanessa’s hand as she slides it across the worn bar top. That’s her real name, Vanessa. It fits her. It’s sensuous and sexy, just like her. With her long, black, pin-straight hair and sultry bedroom eyes. “Take a break soon?”
Ky knew exactly what he was doing when he hired her—all the new bartenders, actually. When Gerard handed the club over to Ky, he made some changes. Namely, giving the Lion’s Den a bit of a facelift in the form of the staff. He also started bringing in live music, and introduced drink specials on Friday and Saturday night to beef up the crowd. When Gerard ran it, he saw the place as a hangout. Now that Ky runs it, he sees it as business. He’s an entrepreneur, that’s for sure, and takes advantage of business opportunities wherever he can.
I help with all his endeavors. Making pickups and deposits, and overseeing inventory for the bar and his food trucks. It’s a pretty sweet side gig, with some sugar-coated perks.
One of those perks? Hooking up with the hot bartender in the back room.
“Maybe in a few,” Vanessa plays hard to get.
“Maybe right now.” I squeeze her hand.
“I have a full bar, Damon. Ky would shit himself if I left.”
