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“I was at school with Justice,” Lana yells over the music. The guys both grin at us. Sophie giggles, batting her lashes at Bullseye, while Justice has his arm loosely draped around Lana’s neck.
“Haven’t seen you ladies around here before,” Bullseye notes, grinning at Sophie as she giggles again.
“They’re from Pinedale,” Lana laughs. “We party together sometimes.”
The guys ask a bunch of questions about partying in Pinedale before inviting us to join them in a game of pool. I volunteer to watch – I suck at pool – while Lana and Justice team up against Bullseye and Sophie.
Draining her beer, Sophie leaves the glass near the pool table, wrapping her arms around my shoulder as she presses her lips against my ear, still giggling.
“I dare you to fuck a biker tonight.”
My eyebrows shoot up as I draw my head back, waggling them at her as I giggle back.
“I’m so down for that, babe.”
“What are you ladies laughing about?” Bullseye asks, dropping an arm around each of our shoulders. Sophie laughs while I tip my head back to grin at him.
“Maybe that’s for us to know and you to find out?”
He grins down at me, winking. “I look forward to finding out.”
Chapter 4
MERCH
“Oh, look. Someone let the college kids in,” Trish drawls, popping up beside Palmer. He jumps, glancing down at her.
“Where the fuck did you come from?” he grumbles. Trish laughs, poking him in the side.
“You’re as oblivious as your old lady these days, Palmer,” she teases. “We just finished closing up the salon.”
“Fucking tourists.” Vicky slings her arm around Lisa’s shoulder, toying with her hair. Palmer mentioned that Vicky cuts Lisa’s hair, and they’re kind of friends. He was chuckling about how if Lisa had to make friends with any groupie, Vicky was perfect. She only fucks brothers over forty, so Palmer’s never gone there.
Following Vicky’s glare, my eyes find Bullseye and Justice at the pool table. They’re with some blonde chick who pops up sometimes. I think she went to school with one of them. I’ve heard rumors she might be toying with the idea of becoming a groupie.
The other two women are clearly the tourists. And they do look fucking young. I get Trish’s college kid comment. They’re also smoking hot. The darker one with huge doe eyes and a sunshine yellow dress like a second skin giggles all over Bullseye as he “helps” her shoot pool.
The other tourist watches the game with laughing eyes, nursing a beer. She looks like a little pixie. Lily-white skin with thick, dark eyebrows and masses of dark hair, almost black.
She’s dressed in black. Her skirt is made out of that ballerina material, showcasing gorgeous legs. Her top looks like a black lingerie corset, and she’s topped the whole thing off with a cropped denim jacket. She’d look better in leather, but she looks damn good as she is.
“Gotta go. Rooster’s giving me the eye,” Vicky smirks, plumping her tits. “Later, doll.”
She pecks Lisa on the cheek, waving over her shoulder as she struts over to Rooster, blatantly rubbing herself all over him.
Trish laughs, grinning as Rattler places a glass of wine beside her.
“You look swamped,” she tells him cheerfully.
She’s not wrong. It’s packed in here tonight, and Rattler is run off his feet. He eyes her with a smirk.
“I wouldn’t mind some help.”
Palmer’s eyebrows shoot up, and they definitely have my attention. Trish is a few years younger than me, around thirty. Rattler would be in his early twenties. Trish has worked all day today. Why would she volunteer to get behind the bar?
Smirking, her eyes dart over Rattler, and she shrugs. “Yeah, sure. Why not. Same deal as always?”
What the fuck? Palmer’s eyebrows are attempting to hit his hairline.
