18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

ARROW

"I got you something."

It's been a week, and so far, I haven't managed to send Lewis screaming into the night. I'm still a little nervous leading Lewis into my garage this morning though. His eyes light up and a smile spreads over his lips as he cocks his head and follows me.

"Presents? Lucky me."

"It's more practical," I say, hedging so he doesn't get his expectations too high, even though my heart is pounding with the hope that he likes what I got for him.

I open the box on my workbench and pull out the larger item first—a hot pink motorcycle helmet. His eyes widen and he lets out an excited squeak. I chuckle and hand him the helmet.

"I get my own helmet? I feel so official now." He slips it on and strikes a pose. "How do I look?" His words are muffled by the visor.

"Hot," I answer honestly, sweeping my gaze over him with heat burning in my gut.

He takes the helmet off again and I produce the second gift. My nerves ratchet up a little more with this one. I shake it open and turn it so he can get a good look at it. It's a leather jacket that should be his size, with its own custom patch on the back.

"Property of The Skins?" he reads off. I bite the inside of my cheek, weighing whether I should offer to take it back and have the patch removed. A beat passes, and then he barks out a laugh. "I love it." He snatches the jacket from me and puts it on.

Primal satisfaction settles in my chest. I growl and grab him by the jacket, yanking him forward until he crashes into me. He laughs again, tilting his head up and grinning at me.

"You look like you're mine." I nip at his bottom lip, and he catches my mouth in a kiss.

My cock hardens against his belly, tempting me to toss him up on the workbench and fuck him senseless. The roar of several motorcycles cuts through the air and banishes the fantasy though. For now, anyway. He breaks the kiss and looks at me with a furrowed brow, worrying his lip between his teeth.

"Are you sure this is a good idea? Maybe you should just go with your friends, and we can meet up later."

I shake my head. "I swear you'll like them if you give it a chance. I know they came off as dicks, but they're good guys."

"Even Jag?" Lewis asks skeptically.

"Even Jag."

He takes a deep breath, then wipes his mouth and steps out of my grasp.

"Who's ready to punch some homophobes right in the skull?" Hero crows as they all approach the garage wearing matching smiles and buzzing with excited energy.

"Please don't make me bail you out of jail today." We both know I'll do it if I have to, any one of us would, but it's really not how I want to spend my afternoon if I can help it.

"Nice jacket," Piston says, winking at Lewis.

Lewis blushes and straightens his shoulders. "Thanks."

Jag runs his fingers through his hair and saunters forward with a smirk. Jesus help me, if he tries to start shit today I might have to hurt him.

"Hey, Tater Tot," he greets Lewis.

I cringe and Lewis whips his head around to glare at me.

"He overheard me on the phone with you last night." I hold my hands up defensively.

"Great." He sighs. "So am I going to be Tater Tot forever now? Can I lobby for a cooler nickname or is this set in stone?"

Tex snorts. "Ask Brick."

No one bothers to explain, but Lewis seems to pick up on the context anyway. Nicknames are an unfortunate thing; they tend to stick whether you like it or not.

Lewis turns back to me. "Hey, how'd you get the name Arrow, anyway?"

"My last name is Rowe." I shrug.

He frowns. "That's it? My last name is White, can't my nickname be Whitey or something?"

"That's racist," Jag deadpans.

Lewis throws his hands up in defeat. "Fine, whatever, I'll be Tater Tot."

"That's the spirit," Piston cheers encouragingly.

"Hey, by the way, do you sell any of those plants that eat people at your shop?" Jag asks.

"They don't eat people, that was just a movie."

Jag waves his hand dismissively. "Whatever, you know what I mean. They're badass, I want one."

Lewis's lips twitch with a grin. "I know someone who cultivates them in a greenhouse, I'll give them a call this week to get the info for you." He looks around at my friends for a second, then asks, "Which one of you is ‘kitten,' by the way?"

Hero laughs loudly and raises his hand. Lewis walks over to stand in front of him.

"I'm the only one who's going to call Arrow ‘Daddy' from now on. Got it, kitten?"

A ripple of titters go through the group, and Jag makes a hissing sound and mimes a cat scratching motion. Hero just stares Lewis down for a second before he nods.

"Sure thing, Tater Tot."

A tightness in my chest I hadn't realized was there loosens. This is going to work. They may have gotten off to a rocky start, but Lewis is going to fit in just fine with my friends. I squeeze the back of his neck affectionately and nod towards the Harleys all lined up in my driveway.

"Let's hit the road."

LEWIS

Unlike the short rides Arrow has taken me on around Fall Crosse, it takes us about two hours to get to the opening of the new LGBTQ+ youth center in Iowa. An electric feeling buzzes under my skin as we ride into the already crowded parking lot. We aren't the only group of bikers here. Arrow lifts his hand to wave to a dozen guys wearing rainbow helmets and matching jackets, and they nod back. The otherwise unassuming building is flying a row of rainbow flags along with a banner that says "All are welcome."

Today's grand opening is meant to be a chance for the community to come see the new space and for people to donate or volunteer their time if they're interested. Of course, these types of events always attract the worst kinds of people too, especially in a small town like this one.

We ride past a small crowd of people brandishing hateful signs and shouting obscenities and pull to a stop in a shady spot at the side of the building. Everyone clambers off their bikes and sheds their helmets. It's hot, but the jackets all stay on, I'm assuming to present a united front.

"So, what's the deal?" I ask, hopelessly trying to fix my flattened hair before giving up. "We're not seriously going to go up there and start throwing punches, are we? Because Arrow's hand just became functional again and I hit like a girl."

"I wouldn't say that to Ronda Rousey," Jag says.

"Oh, Ronda Rousey would fucking demolish me. Honestly, a fifth grader on the playground could probably kick my ass."

Jag chuckles and then, to my surprise, throws an arm over my shoulders. "Stick with me, Tater Tot, I won't let the big, mean religious fanatics hurt you."

I look helplessly back at Arrow as Jag leads me away. He grins and winks encouragingly.

"But, no, we're not really going to start shit," Piston assures me, falling into step with us. "We're just going to stand there, look menacing, and keep those dickheads from intimidating the people who are here to enjoy the grand opening."

"Oh." My shoulders relax. "That sounds pretty fucking cool actually. I mean, I couldn't intimidate a chihuahua, but I'm here for it."

"It's all about attitude," Tex says, getting a few steps ahead of us and turning around so he's facing me and walking backward. "Give them a ‘don't fuck with me' glare, like this." he demonstrates with his square jaw set rigidly and his eyes flashing dangerously.

I scrunch up my face and try to copy his expression.

Jag bursts out laughing beside me. "You look like you're trying to take a shit."

I elbow him, but that only makes him laugh harder. "I told you I can't be intimidating. My face just doesn't do that. I'm like a precious little china doll."

"Ooh, okay, play up that angle then. Try a creepy-ass blank stare," Hero suggests.

I give it a shot, letting my expression go slack and vacant.

"Yeah, that's unsettling," Piston says immediately.

"Definitely go with that. I'd be shitting my pants if someone stood there staring at me like that," Tex says.

I break the stare and chuckle. A warm feeling fills up my chest as we get close to the protesters. Arrow was right, his friends are pretty cool. Maybe I'll convince Rowan to come out sometime. He would like these guys.

I look back at Arrow again to find him watching me with an expression that makes my heart skip a beat. I'm sure he's just happy that I'm getting along with everyone, but it feels like it could be more than that. Maybe I just want it to be more than that. A too-big feeling swells in my chest and heat rises into my cheeks. I stumble over my own feet, but Jag keeps me upright. I murmur a thanks and then politely shrug off his arm to slip under Arrow's instead.

"See, they're not so bad, right?" he says quietly as his friends all get a few steps ahead of us.

"They're great." I pop up onto my toes to kiss his cheek. Defiant pleasure rushes through me at the hisses and boos that go through the crowd of protesters. I forgot they were there for a second, but pissing them off is definitely a bonus.

Arrow smiles and wraps his arms around me, pulling me in for a deeper kiss full of sloppy tongue just to prove a point. I laugh against his lips and clutch his jacket, that feeling in my chest swelling bigger and bigger until I feel like I might burst.

I think I'm falling in love with Arrow, and for the first time in my life, I think he might feel the same way.