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Instead of hand-selecting a new tail to take back their bed for the night like they used to do.
Then again, they could have it anytime they wanted now. They didn’t have to shop around, bait hooks, cast their lines into the water, and hope something nibbled.
Who was he kidding? He wasn’t even doing that. He just hated going home to an empty apartment and sleeping in an empty bed.
“Well,” Country told Repo, trying not to reveal to everyone just how miserable he truly was, “that’s not how it works in my relationship.”
“What relationship, man?” Repo tossed back, making Country’s hackles rise. “She straight-up left your ass high and dry, and all you do now is sit around pining for her when she’s probably out there right now getting plowed by some dude named Brad with a buzz cut and a badge. You need to let that shit go and find a chick to bury your troubles in until they ain’t troubles anymore.”
“Look, I appreciate the pep talk, but I’m not in the mood—”
“He’s got a point,” Quick cut in. “You can’t keep going on forever like this. It’s got you checked out most days. It’s obvious you’re not sleeping, and you’re reckless, which, in the field, ain’t good for anyone. We need you back, brother. Not just physically, but mentally too.”
“You don’t understand—”
“I understand perfectly,” Quick interrupted him again. “You lost the woman you love, and it’s fucked you up. But it’s not a death sentence. There was a time I thought Jody was my beginning and end”—they all shuddered—“but once I pulled my head out of my ass and realized that life went on and I had more important things to concern myself with, shit got better.”
“It’s different for you,” Country argued. “You had a kid to keep you going, and then you found a good woman who stepped right in and put all the puzzle pieces together.”
“And that shit didn’t happen overnight. I had to put myself together first, then the rest followed.”
“The universe has a way of working things out,” Cricket offered. “Usually when you’re not looking and when you least expect it.”
Stubbing out his half-burned cigarette, Country drank down the three-quarter-full stein in front of him and stood. “Look, I appreciate what y’all are trying to do here, but like I said, my life ain’t up for discussion.”
“You’re leaving?” Quick asked, surprised and a touch hurt or…something. Maybe that was regret Country saw in his eyes. Or he was hallucinating.
“Yeah, like you pointed out, I haven’t been sleeping much lately. I need my beauty rest.” He flipped his hand up in a semblance of a wave to the guys as he started walking, not looking back and completely ignoring their voices calling after him to get his ass back to his chair and hang out.
He wasn’t in the mood.
Outside, he threw a leg over his bike—the only woman in his life right now, and the most reliable—and fired her up. She purred beneath him, the low rumble vibrating between his thighs reminding him of the serenity of the open road. When was the last time he took a trip, alone, just to enjoy the solitude?
He couldn’t remember.
As he sped down the road, he considered the open skies above and leaving all of this behind started sounding better and better by the second. When his apartment complex peeked out of the darkness ahead, he considered blowing right by it and just driving, no stopping, not for anything.
Instead, he turned into the parking lot and rolled to a stop in the spot reserved for him. Parked next to him was Talia’s bike. He’d had it made specially for her, tricked out and top-of-the-line everything. She’d left it as easily as she had him, hadn’t she? As if she didn’t want to have any reminders of their time together.
Man, his chest hurt like a motherfucker. When would that feeling go away? Ever? He didn’t think he could live the rest of his life with that knife-twisting pain in his chest.
Maybe Repo was right. Maybe he needed to get back on the wagon and bury that shit. Sometimes that was what it took, just getting back in the game, distracting yourself until the rest faded into a distant memory—one without the power to cripple you with the changing of the wind.
Suddenly, he wanted to punch something. To scream and shout and create a scene. Lifting his foot, he slammed it into the other bike and watched the heavy machine topple over onto its side. Metal crunched and a couple tiny pieces broke off and scattered on the asphalt.
It didn’t make him feel any better.
Staring dispassionately, Country shook his head and cranked the engine on his own bike again, then backed it up and turned it toward the street. Then, with no particular destination in mind, he rode the hell out of there.
ten
A wave of icy cold water connected dead center with his right eye, and Moose squeezed his eyes shut while scrubbing the butt of his palm over it to get rid of the uncomfortable, shrinking, burning sensation.
“Damnit, woman,” he growled, “you’re gonna pay for that.”
“Oooh I’m so scared,” Angel taunted, throwing another load of water at him.
When he’d woken up this morning with a woody the size of Nebraska, he’d had nothing more on his mind than getting over to her place and getting inside her, but the ride over had been so nice, he couldn’t stand the idea of being cooped up indoors another minute. So when he’d arrived on her doorstep early and unexpected, finding Mouse still in her Hello Kitty pjs and her hair a mess, he’d told her to get her bikini and a towel and meet him outside.
