“M.C.?” Hilary asked.
“Motorcycle club, girl. I need to school you.”
“He mentioned something about an old lady,” Juliette said.
“Oh my god.” The squeal pierced the air and threatened to do the same to her eardrum.
“Jesus, Joey.” Juliette pulled down her earlobe.
“That’s like a wife, girl.”
“Whoa…that’s jumping ahead. We just made things official. Why would he want that with me? It doesn’t make any sense. ” She knew she was babbling, but she couldn’t seem to form coherent sentences as her brain erupted with concerns like a volcano. Are we ready for this? The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him.
“What did you do to that man?” Joey asked.
“N-nothing. He wouldn’t sleep with me until I agreed. How is that like a wife?” She licked her lips. Would he make demands now? Expect her to play maid and personal assistant? Stupid. Did I learn nothing?
“Listen, women love wild men, and motorcyclists are the cream of the crop in that category. There’s a plethora of hos, some who for all intents and purposes belong to a club. They hang out, clean the club and the mens’ clocks if they’re so inclined. They’re called sweet butts.”
“I’m well-versed on that.”
“Wow. Look at you, already stepping into your role,” Joey said.
“Well, fill us in,” Evonne said.
“A sweetie is someone they’re seeing and not just screwing. An old lady is serious shit. Some women don’t get that status after years of dating. You could wear his cut.”
“I think you’ve scared her into shock, Joey,” Evonne said.
“I-I had no clue. What—is he going to expect me to move in with him now?” Panic placed cracks in her perfect evening.
“No, nothing like that,” Joey assured. “Relax. You’ve been going at it for about a month and there have been no red flags. You know what to look for when it comes to douche bags in disguise.”
“You’re right, you’re right. I had no clue it was this serious, though.”
“Still, you knew it was semi-serious. Why agree?” Hilary asked.
“Because he moves me, turns me into goop, and treats me better than any man I’ve ever dated.” Juliette whispered honestly without hesitation. She found Shooter completely compelling and irresistible. He pulled her to him like a magnet.
“She’s so fucked.” Hil laughed.
“Hil. You don’t have to sound so happy about it,” Evonne scolded.
“Come on. The planner has it bad after one night. It’s funny,” Hilary responded.
“No, it’s terrifying. I step out of my comfort zone and I land neck-deep in a crazy subculture I know nothing about.” Juliette palmed the back of her neck, massaging away the tension. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m learning.”
“Emergency meeting, ladies,” Evonne chimed in.
“I’ll bring the Sons of Anarchy seasons,” Joey volunteered.
“I’ll bring food from Panera. Hang tight, Jul. We’ll be there in thirty.” They all disconnected, and Juliette placed her head in her hands.
What the hell was I thinking? Her heart beat like hummingbird wings. Could she get out of the old lady role if she wanted to? What would she tell Shooter? The hopeful expression in his eyes haunted her. If she bailed now she’d crush that look.
Kicking off her heels, she stepped down from the stool to walk the familiar layout. The woods behind her house had been the main selling point for her. After hurrying to the bedroom, she exchanged his sweatpants for a pair of blue-jean shorts and sneakers. Then she made the short walk to the woods onto her favorite path. Breathing in the scent of moss, flowers and rich soil, she calmed.
If she walked away now she’d always wonder, and wouldn’t it ruin all the forward progress she’d made? Placing a hand on her rolling stomach, she paused in front of a massive fallen log she often used for thinking. She went over her courtship with Peter in her mind. He’d been dazzling. Wealthy, attractive and charming as hell, he’d won her over by the second date. He’d been the perfect gentleman. A Ken doll come to life—until his darker side began to emerge. At first he’d passed it off as caring but that had quickly fallen away to reveal the monster that lurked beneath.