Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

Jade

He saved me.

That was dramatic.

But it had been a long, hot, boring day that felt mostly not worth my time.

Sure, I’d had lots of conversations with lovely fellow vendors who tried to assure me that things would pick up, that it took them weeks to really start to make a solid income. But when it came to the public, I had a lot of people stopping for a quick look, but very few who even moved in the booth to check things out. Fewer still who actually bought anything.

More so than that, though, Levee saved me from my own thoughts. Which had, admittedly, taken a really dark turn ever since the sounds in the apartment above mine got my imagination going in endless circles.

They all inevitably ended with me trying to convince myself that I was being crazy.

But the feelings kept coming back regardless.

Especially when I didn’t see that neighbor the next day. The thing was, though, that I didn’t see all of my neighbors every single day. We all had different lives and schedules. When I sat to think about it, I wasn’t sure I’d ever actually noticed that particular neighbor before.

Still, there was no reasoning with my fears. And with nothing to do but sit around all day, they’d been growing stronger and stronger.

So, yeah, Levee’s timing was pretty awesome in that respect.

He saved me from my own mind.

And, honestly, I was actually pretty excited about the party bus.

Since moving to the area, I’d been doing lots of exploring. The beaches. Local coffee places. Pet stores. Little independent restaurants.

But, well, I didn’t exactly have any friends to go out at night with. Sure, I had friendly relationships with other tenants in my building, but we were strictly ‘in and around the building’ friends. Which was fine. Good, even. I really believed in community like that.

Still, I had to admit that it felt like a little something was missing. No one to go out to the bars or clubs with, to dinner, to a movie, poetry reading, play. Stuff I was used to doing in my old town. With other people.

So, yeah, this was going to be good for me. Bonus points for getting to spend some time with Levee.

“Do you have to worry about these in your car?” Levee asked, grabbing the tote for me. “I’m sure the bus has storage.

“They’ll be fine,” I told him as we walked past all the other booths wrapping up for the day and back to the lot to store my tote in the trunk. While I was busy with that, Levee went over to the parking machine, putting enough money on my spot to last the whole night.

“Alright,” he said when I joined him. “Allow me to apologize in advance for how insane this could potentially get,” he told me as we closed in on the bus, the bass of the music thumping even from the outside.

I thought he was being a little dramatic. Then, of course, we walked into the bus. Where two of the girls that the other men had rounded up were grinding against each other to the music as some of the men looked on. Others were occupied with making out with other girls.

Levee’s hand went around my hip, keeping me close. As if I had never seen girls flirting with each other to excite men before. Or people making out for that matter.

He led me over toward the U-shaped black leather sectional, and pulled me down beside him. His arm went around the back of my shoulders as Zayn popped the cork on a new bottle of champagne.

I recognized the bottle. It was the one my parents had bought as a ‘big splurge’ once to celebrate my father getting a promotion at work that would allow my mother to retire her full-time job and focus on her art.

He passed one bottle toward his left before reaching for another to pop the cork.

There were two more empties rolling around on the floor.

What was that? Almost six hundred dollars in champagne on some random weekend afternoon.

Maybe Levee was right about how much I could be charging for my commission. Even if I didn’t think I would be willing to ever ask anything that astronomical.

Zayn dropped down on my other side, passing both Levee and me clear plastic party cups and filling them almost to the rim.

“You two are entirely too sober. And I am not drunk enough,” he declared, starting to use the rest of the bottle like his own sippy cup.

Everyone else around acted like this was the most normal thing in the world. I glanced at Levee, who was casually sipping his champagne.

Maybe this was the norm for him.

I was suddenly struck with the knowledge that I knew very little about Levee.

I mean, I surmised things from his actions. Like caring for a difficult uncle who didn’t want his attention. Like stepping up to offer help to a complete stranger with a legal matter.

All signs pointed to a good person.

Other than that, and knowing he was in a motorcycle club, I really knew nothing about him.

Suddenly, I wish I’d asked if he wanted to go get coffee instead of hanging out on the bus.

But even as I thought it, a man walked up the steps, closed the door, got behind the driver’s seat, and pulled away from the curb.

The girls dancing lost their footing, falling into the laps of Coast and Zayn, who both seemed pleased as punch by the arrangement.

I half turned away from Zayn to look toward Levee who shot me a smirk as he tapped his cup to mine.

I took a tentative sip as one of the girls let out a squeal when one of the guys started to tickle her sides.

Levee reached down, scooping up my legs, and pulling them over his lap. He leaned in close, his lips tickling the shell of my ear.

“I thought you’d text,” he said, making butterflies take flight in my chest.

“I didn’t know if you’d want to hear from me,” I admitted.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You left in a hurry,” I reminded him.

“Had a work meeting,” he told me, making some of the tension leave my shoulders since I’d felt a little, I don’t know, rejected after he left. “Didn’t want to interrupt you. Figured I’d see you this week.”

“Funny how that worked out,” I said, going ahead and letting myself lean into him a bit more as I took a bigger sip of my drink.

I had several hours before I needed to drive. I would be fine.

“So what happens now?” I asked as Levee’s free hand started to sift through my hair.

“From experience, now there is a lot of drinking. Then, likely, a stop to do something completely unusual. Like an arcade. Or aquarium. Food. More drinking. Then clubs and, you guessed it, more drinking.”

“To what end?” I asked.

“Usually, hotel rooms and hooking up,” he admitted.

“Makes sense,” I decided, glancing around. These were all stupidly handsome men in the prime of their lives. What else would a night out involve besides hooking up?

I was suddenly frustrated that I’d agreed to having a late dinner with Lily and Curtis after the kids went to bed.

Because the idea of Levee hooking up with some other girl to end his night made my stomach feel like there was a pit in it. Even if, objectively, I had no claim on the man. We had a little half hookup. It wasn’t like he belonged to me.

“I was actually thinking of ending the night at Teddy’s place, then dropping by my uncle’s in the morning. Hoping to run into you.”

“Teddy? The one who helped Curtis?” I asked.

“Yeah, he’s a friend of the club. Has a penthouse in Miami. We crash there when we’re in the area sometimes.”

“Were you really going to try to run into me, or are you just laying it on thick?” I asked. “I’m fine with either answer,” I told him. Even if, in my heart, I was kind of hoping for the former.

“I had a whole plan and everything. I was going to bring bagels. Then say something about how I got too many. And then offer you one. That we wouldn’t even get to eating.”

“Oh, really? What would we get distracted by?” I asked, taking another long sip of my champagne.

“An in-depth discussion of the Impressionists, of course,” he teased, making a little laugh burst out of me. “And that would, inevitably, lead to an analysis of Expressionism and Surrealism…”

“Someone paid attention in art class.”

“I, ah, may or may not have looked up some art shit in the hopes of impressing you.”

“That is the cutest thing I’ve heard in a long time. And I heard a little kid refer to pasta as persketti this week,” I told him, charmed. No one had ever done art research for me before.

“It’s hard to beat persketti,” Levee agreed.

“So, in your research, what painting did you like best?”

“Well, I mean, the Home Alone one is always a hit.”

“The… Home Alone one?” I asked, squinting at him.

Levee reached out to set his cup into a holder, then pressed his hands to either side of his face, mouth open.

Another laugh escaped me at that. “ The Scream ,” I told him. “By Edvard Munch.”

“Yeah, that one. I kinda liked that one with the girl with the pearl earring in her lobe too. Kind of sad, but passionate look in her eye. What was that one called?”

“ The Girl with the Pearl Earring ,” I told him.

“Yeah, that one.”

“But I think I have a new favorite artist. She’s got a real pretty name, too. Jade…”

“Holland,” I told him.

“Right. That’s her name. Jade Holland. She paints a mean goldfish.”

“Do you have any pets?”

“Me, personally? No. The club has a tortoise and a macaw named Mackie. And we’re all in charge of taking care of them.”

“So, you’re at the club a lot?” I asked.

“I live at the clubhouse,” he told me. “Same with Coast and Kylo. And Velle and York. The older club members have moved on to other houses and shit now. Starting families and such.”

That was… surprisingly wholesome.

See, he wasn’t the only one who’d been doing some research. I mean it wasn’t every day you came across someone who said they were in a motorcycle club. And, quite frankly, I had absolutely no idea what that entailed.

The thing was, my research had ended up involving a lot of fictional content that likely made things out to be a lot grittier than it actually was in real life.

The general consensus was that guys who liked riding motorcycles sometimes got together into little clubs and hung out and rode together. Kind of their version of a book club or knitting circle kind of thing. A way to connect with people who had similar interests and passions.

None of the stuff I’d come across had ever mentioned the bikers actually living at the clubhouse, though.

I couldn’t help but wonder if that was a common thing, or if this club was more of the exception to the rule.

“So there are a lot of kids around the club?” I asked.

“Ton of ‘em,” he admitted. “All different ages now. Seems like every few months, one of the guys is finding a forever kind of girl and settling down. Not long after that, they start popping out litters.”

“Do you like kids?” I asked.

“Yeah. Think they’re more fun when they’re mobile and you can do fun shit. But they’re a good time. You love them, right?”

“Yes. I wouldn’t mind having a litter myself one day,” I admitted.

I’d always liked kids. But I figured that thing about feeling your clock ticking was utter nonsense. Until I first held Lily’s baby. Now, all I wanted to do was spend some time with her, soaking up the snuggles and smiles and that oddly sweet-sour baby smell.

“I can see that,” he said nodding. “Lot of kids in your family?”

“God, no. My brother is fully anti-kid,” I admitted. “He has two dogs that he travels around with when he’s got time away from work. And it’s just the two of us.”

“Does he live around here?”

“No. He’s back in Massachusetts still.”

“What brought you down here then?”

“I’ve never been a fan of the cold. I mean, don’t get me wrong, snow is magical. But I figure I can appreciate that from a distance. Or on the occasion when I go visit home in the winter. I wanted to be down by the beach.”

“Makes sense how you ended up in that neighborhood then,” he said. “Thought it was an odd place for you to be.”

“I don’t think I realized just how expensive the area was going to be. It was the only place I could afford right away. You know, with first, last, and security on top of furnishing the place and stuff. I have a five-year plan. Max. Probably more like two.”

Though I’ll have to admit that some part of me would find it hard to leave now that I was making connections.

That said, Lily and Curtis didn’t even want to be around for another year. And Mrs. Jackson and her husband were planning on retiring to Mr. Jackson’s parents’ house once things went through probate.

Sure, new people would move in. But I got a feeling that this building was a more transient of a place for most families. A stepping stone to a house or an apartment in a better school district. There were too many bad elements around for most people to want to settle down long-term.

“I know there is a lot of rough shit going on around there, but there were things I liked about my childhood in that neighborhood.”

“Did your parents move eventually?” I asked, since he said he’d grown up there. And it was only his uncle around now.

“My old man died a few years back. My ma ran out on us a long while before that. Not that I blame her. My father was a fuck. But—“

“But she left you alone with him,” I filled in for him.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes dark for a moment before he shook it off. “So where are you thinking of moving after this?” he asked.

“I honestly don’t know,” I admitted. “I entertained the idea of a bungalow by the beach.”

“Might not have enough room there for a litter of kids,” he warned.

“The next step doesn’t have to be my final destination,” I said, shrugging. There was time. I mean, you wouldn’t think that if you felt the little ovary explosion each time I was around a baby these days, but it wasn’t like I was anywhere close to settling down. I didn’t even have a serious man in the picture.

As much as I was into Levee, everything about this party bus and the comfort at which he felt around the drinking, mostly-naked girls, clubbing, and all of that suggested that this was all stuff he partook in fairly often. He clearly wasn’t in a settling down phase in his life.

This was just, you know, for fun.

Even if that little voice in my head was whispering about what cute babies he would make.

The bus drove around for about an hour as everyone drank and had fun. I’d even almost finished my drink before we pulled to a stop, and the driver opened the door.

“Do I want to know where we are, Zayn?” Levee asked as I propped up onto my knees to look out the window.

They were almost completely blackout, but I could still see the words on the front of the building we were in front of.

“Ah, we are going to the World Erotic Art Museum ,” I told him, beaming at the idea, figuring this place was going to have all sorts of art to check out.

“Huh,” Levee said a while later, his arm sitting heavily around my shoulders. “I don’t know what I was expecting exactly,” he admitted, “but a wall of pussy sculptures wasn’t it.”

“I still can’t get over the bed made of four penis pillars,” I admitted. Each one of them had been carved with various sexual positions. “And I really want to know if I can find a print of those scissor people in a meadow.”

“Did you two see the giant copper phallus?” Zayn asked, waving over toward where two of the girls we’d brought with us were each sitting on one of the testicles and smiling at Raff, who was taking their picture.

“Hard to miss,” I said, smiling.

“I’ve lived in this area all my life and I had no idea this place existed,” Levee admitted.

“To be fair, it seems like the kind of place you really only need to see once.”

“Zayn isn’t from here, is he?” I asked.

“No. Well, I mean, who the fuck knows? The man seems to exist everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Why?”

“How does he even know about this place?”

“I imagine he has someone on his staff whose job it is to find interesting things for him to do no matter where he is visiting. Figure this was a better trip than having to drag you around to Horrorland or some shit like that.”

“Yeah, horror really isn’t my style,” I admitted. “I’m not a huge fan of violence in general.”

“We have that in common,” Levee admitted. There was a strange edge to his tone, though, that I couldn’t quite place.

But Zayn was calling us over to check out some more pieces of art, so there was no more time to talk in private.

I was actually having a really good time. It felt nice to be out of the apartment with other adults doing just random fun things.

But after the museum, then a stop at a very fancy restaurant where none of us should have been permitted to enter dressed as we were, but Zayn seemed to have some sort of pull, it was about time for the bus to circle back to the lot where they’d picked me up, so I could get back to my place in time for my dinner date with Lily and Curtis.

“So, are you still going to be bringing bagels in the morning?” I asked as Levee walked me to my car.

“That depends.”

“On?”

“If you’ll tell me what kind of bagels you like.”

“Cinnamon raisin.”

“Then it’s a date,” he said, backing me up against the passenger rear door, leaning in, and sealing his lips over mine.

It was long and deep but far too quick, leaving my body feeling tingly and unsatisfied.

“See you in the morning?” he asked, getting a nod out of me. “Cinnamon raisin.”

“Cinnamon raisin,” I agreed as he pulled open my door, then waited for me to slide inside.

I was floating on cloud nine the rest of the night. All through dinner with Lily and Curtis that featured a snuggle with the baby as I fed her.

It wasn’t until I was on my way back down to my floor, when the elevator stopped the floor above mine to let another tenant out, and I looked down to see a door ever so slightly ajar that I felt my stomach drop again.

Because that door?

It was to the apartment right above mine.

Before I even knew what I was doing, I was stepping out of the elevator.

And making my way to the door.