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CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
*Lace*
The clock ticks closer and closer to when I will get on the stage as a contestant, and my heart rate increases by the second. Part of me regrets being so complacent with the idea. What if I had put my foot down and told them no?
Right. Keep dreaming, girl. Chaz played off being amenable to the idea, but did you really have a choice? No… not really. They want this. You want this.
Coty keeps his distance throughout the Kick-Start Party welcome shenanigans, not particularly fond of me straddling random men’s bikes in scant clothing while plumping out my breasts and leaning forward over the tank seductively for pictures and the occasional feel up.
Watching the first several is enough for him. He approaches a random woman and whispers in her ear. I admittedly am quite distracted by that. She reaches into her skin-tight pocket, takes something out, and presses it into the palm of his hand. A taste of the jealousy Coty often displays bounds through me.
But then he immediately approaches me, insistently turns me around, gathers up all my hair — every strand that I had meticulously straightened with an iron before leaving the saloon — and ties it with that other heifer’s hair tie. All so everyone will undoubtedly see the hickey he left on my neck. Without another word, he disappears, leaving his mark for all the camera memory cards and cell phones to capture for an eternity.
Movement in the crowd draws my attention from his retreating back. Two of the three Revelry crew turn into the parking lot of The Crowbar and Grill — the Bimmer and Supra.
Their entry definitely captures the attention of the crowd, seeing as it takes a much wider berth to let them in than it does a line of motorcycles. The cluster of riders and party goers part to allow the leading local street racers through. But what draws their attention even more is the all-black superbike and its rider cruising in behind them. A sexy as sin rider at that. Remi has a presence about her.
The only other bike-rider combination that would challenge the undivided attention Remi garners would be that all-female club over on the East Coast. Makes me wonder if Crow has warned her about them yet; Nixie and her girls will likely show up at some point this weekend just to ruffle some feathers.
Hayes and Crow drive around back to park near the Monte Carlo that rounds out their crew. Trenton works at the bar inside and has likely been here since they opened this morning.
Remi glances around, narrowing down her options. She spots the Hell for Leather roundup right away and naturally parks there. Her sleek, black bike blends well, especially right next to Coty’s Duc.
Zane and Kio were in a deep conversation, leaning against the Ninja and Lightning accordingly, but their eyes widen on her approach. Women are finally starting to band together to normalize female bike owners, but the male response still has a bit of leveling up to do apparently.
A sharp whistle rings above the racket, and my focus diverts just as Remi removes her helmet and thrusts a hand out toward Zane. The owner of a beefy hog waves above his head to get my attention. Several patches on his cut pull my attention downward. A member of the Rolling Stones. They have so many, it can be hard to keep up. The event is swarming with them. I even see Stoney himself a time or two, shooting shit with the crowd while Kal does the same but in different circles.
The entire situation reminds me of a favorite movie of mine that has a scene counting down to a new year. The clock strikes midnight, and everyone kisses, spinning to peck acquaintance after acquaintance. That goes on and on until the two enemies-to-lovers come nose to nose. So much damn drama and tension.
Unlike that movie, though, this scene is most certainly not romantic. Should Kal and Stoney come nose to nose, the only kiss the audience might get would be that from a fist, or worse.
Heels snicking against the pavement, I hustle over to the Stoner. “Stop paying so much attention to those squids,” the burly man greets, patting his wide seat. “Pose on a real bike.”
There is so much wrong with his comment. Thankfully, my killer smile is bright enough to mask how incredibly unimpressed I am by the diss. Are there squids in attendance? Yeah. Do any of my Hell for Leather guys fall under that label? No.
Not even Chaz. He might be the most showy of the bunch, but even still he does it as safely as possible; he wears the most protective gear and never stunts alone, among other precautions. Like knowing what the hell he is doing.
Making the process as quick as possible, I mount and dismount in record timing. I even go as far as giving the man a friendly squeeze on his bicep before pretending to be called in a different direction.
“Remi!” I squeal, hurrying toward her. Coty found her, and the two of them are chatting up a storm, bonding over their bikes no doubt. Instead of pouncing on her like I tend to do to Jess, I sling my arms out and let her decide. She doesn’t exactly come across as the hugging type. Nevertheless, Remi humors me and steps forward. I sling my arms around her neck and give her a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Hey, hun! Damn, been ages, right?”
Remi laughs. “Too long, for sure.”
We saw each other Friday night.
“Based on what Crow had to say when he visited me today at the saloon, looks like the Universe manifested for you.” Word on the street, the man who was giving her a hard time has been taken care of. Whatever “taken care of” means in his case, I made sure not to dig. Though I do have my assumptions.
Remi inhales and exhales with a shudder. I turn her toward me and place my hands on her shoulders. “Hey. You good? This life… Not everyone can cope, you know. And that is totally okay.”
She gives me a watery smile, blinking away tears that she refuses to let fall. “Yeah… all good.” Remi toys anxiously with her key fob, and her voice lowers. “Unfortunately, I know a lot more about ‘this life’ than I care to admit to myself most days.”
I give her a quick chuckle and a grin. “Sounds like we need to get a coffee together one day. In a basement somewhere. After a strip search to make sure neither of us are wired.”
Her anguish and uncertainty disappears in an instant, eyes lighting up. “I am hella down for that. Basement and all. You have my number.”
“I do.” My eyes dart to Coty before I continue my conversation with Remi. “What are you and Revelry doing here anyway?” I ask, knowing they usually steer clear of Bike Week. Guess that changes when a motorcyclist charms her way into their interests.
