Whether it was the booze or Van or recalling James’s threats, her temper spiked in that moment.
“I can get home by myself,” she insisted. “I drove here, and I can—”
“Yeah, I’m not losing my liquor license because I let a drunk girl drive home,” Van told her, pushing off the railing, “no matter how hot she looks in that dress.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she took a few moments staring out pointedly at the lake to collect herself. When she was ready, she fell in line behind him, still a little wobbly in her heels.
The inside of the bar really got to her: the smells, the sounds, the stench of sweaty bodies combined with the humidity of the dancing horde made her head spin again. However, determined to stay on her own two feet, she focused on Van’s broad back and nothing else, following him straight through the crowds until they reached the doors.
“I’ll be right back,” Van told one of the bouncers. “Just taking my friend home.”
April’s eyes swept over the bouncer, and she realized he was another former high school acquaintance. A year ahead of her, like Johnny, but his name was nowhere near the tip of her tongue, so she kept her head down and said nothing.
“I think you broke that guy’s nose, bossman,” the bouncer laughed, though there was a hint of concern there too. “You think he’ll sue?”
“Fuck him,” Van grumbled, taking April by the arm and leading her down the stairs. “I’ve got a whole bar full of witnesses who saw him swing first.”
***
Although she’d vowed never to get on the back of Van’s motorcycle, April had to admit that it beat walking home. Their heads clunked together, her helmet heavy and big and awkward with her arms wrapped around Van’s thick midsection. At first she’d just kept her hands on his shoulders, but when she found she was more stable if she just hugged him, she went with it.
Besides, at that point, she was still drunk enough to blame the inappropriate body contact with her future stepbrother on the alcohol that he poured for her. So, really, any weirdness in the days to follow was totally Van’s fault.
He glanced over his shoulder, his leather jacket cool on her bare arms as she hugged him, and April almost apologized—but then realized he wouldn’t hear her anyway. So, she smiled through the clear visor, the bike rumbling between her thighs, encouraging sensations that she shouldn’t feel, and Van nodded before turning back to watch the road.
It should have taken them fifteen minutes—maximum—to get back to her mom’s apartment. However, rather than taking a direct route through the town, Van went north, leading her along winding roads surrounded by trees. There were no other cars on the road at this point—just her and Van and his bike, roaring along the cracked cement, nothing but trees and starlight to keep them company.
Despite the way her stomach turned and her head ached, April was actually enjoying herself. She’d never been on a motorcycle before, and there was something of a… thrill to riding it. Maybe it was the way Van handled it, so confident, so sure of himself—so sexy in his leather jacket. She hugged him tighter, laughing as he leaned the bike around a sharp corner. She could have ridden with him for hours, forgetting that he had a job to get back to. A part of her wanted him to take her along the deep woods on back roads; maybe they could stop for a breather sometime.
But all goods things had to come to an end sometime, and April realized that might have been for the best. Van slowed the bike once they were back on Main Street, her mom’s apartment building appearing out of nowhere. As soon as he was pulled up to the curb, Van cut the engine and helped her climb off.
“How was that?” he asked, his helmet’s visor up. April dragged her helmet over her head, her hair a disaster in the aftermath, and grinned.
“Fun,”
“I can get home by myself,” she insisted. “I drove here, and I can—”
“Yeah, I’m not losing my liquor license because I let a drunk girl drive home,” Van told her, pushing off the railing, “no matter how hot she looks in that dress.”
Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she took a few moments staring out pointedly at the lake to collect herself. When she was ready, she fell in line behind him, still a little wobbly in her heels.
The inside of the bar really got to her: the smells, the sounds, the stench of sweaty bodies combined with the humidity of the dancing horde made her head spin again. However, determined to stay on her own two feet, she focused on Van’s broad back and nothing else, following him straight through the crowds until they reached the doors.
“I’ll be right back,” Van told one of the bouncers. “Just taking my friend home.”
April’s eyes swept over the bouncer, and she realized he was another former high school acquaintance. A year ahead of her, like Johnny, but his name was nowhere near the tip of her tongue, so she kept her head down and said nothing.
“I think you broke that guy’s nose, bossman,” the bouncer laughed, though there was a hint of concern there too. “You think he’ll sue?”
“Fuck him,” Van grumbled, taking April by the arm and leading her down the stairs. “I’ve got a whole bar full of witnesses who saw him swing first.”
***
Although she’d vowed never to get on the back of Van’s motorcycle, April had to admit that it beat walking home. Their heads clunked together, her helmet heavy and big and awkward with her arms wrapped around Van’s thick midsection. At first she’d just kept her hands on his shoulders, but when she found she was more stable if she just hugged him, she went with it.
Besides, at that point, she was still drunk enough to blame the inappropriate body contact with her future stepbrother on the alcohol that he poured for her. So, really, any weirdness in the days to follow was totally Van’s fault.
He glanced over his shoulder, his leather jacket cool on her bare arms as she hugged him, and April almost apologized—but then realized he wouldn’t hear her anyway. So, she smiled through the clear visor, the bike rumbling between her thighs, encouraging sensations that she shouldn’t feel, and Van nodded before turning back to watch the road.
It should have taken them fifteen minutes—maximum—to get back to her mom’s apartment. However, rather than taking a direct route through the town, Van went north, leading her along winding roads surrounded by trees. There were no other cars on the road at this point—just her and Van and his bike, roaring along the cracked cement, nothing but trees and starlight to keep them company.
Despite the way her stomach turned and her head ached, April was actually enjoying herself. She’d never been on a motorcycle before, and there was something of a… thrill to riding it. Maybe it was the way Van handled it, so confident, so sure of himself—so sexy in his leather jacket. She hugged him tighter, laughing as he leaned the bike around a sharp corner. She could have ridden with him for hours, forgetting that he had a job to get back to. A part of her wanted him to take her along the deep woods on back roads; maybe they could stop for a breather sometime.
But all goods things had to come to an end sometime, and April realized that might have been for the best. Van slowed the bike once they were back on Main Street, her mom’s apartment building appearing out of nowhere. As soon as he was pulled up to the curb, Van cut the engine and helped her climb off.
“How was that?” he asked, his helmet’s visor up. April dragged her helmet over her head, her hair a disaster in the aftermath, and grinned.
“Fun,”
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