5 Bikers for Valentines

“Not if you’re going to be doing any work out of it. Like paperwork or finances or ordering supplies.”

“My personal office is going to be up there,” I said.

“Then that’s perfect. So long as part of the space up there is being used for the business, you can have an umbrella business insurance policy. That will cover it,” Hank said.

“Then let’s get it started. Might as well get it all out of the way,” Lindy said.

“And keep in mind that none of this will be filed yet. You won’t be charged or owe anything until the final paperwork on the sale gets signed,” the realtor said.

“Sounds perfect to me,” I said.

Our dream was finally within reach.

As we sat there in the realtor’s office and talked with Hank to get all the paperwork settled, I could feel excitement pooling in my chest. This was happening. It was actually fucking happening. I was within arm’s reach of quitting that fucking bar and moving out of my mother’s fucking house. I thought about just packing up my shit and leaving. I could buy all new furniture with the money Nick and Tyler gave to me that morning. I was trying to keep my excitement at bay until we left the realtor. But when we got into Lindy’s car, I let out a shrieking squeal.

“Holy shit! It’s happening!”

I leaned over and threw my arms around Lindy, who was giggling and hugging me close.

But things took a turn the moment I got home.

My mother was standing on the porch with her arms crossed over her chest. I looked over at Lindy and she nodded at me, letting me know she was staying in case I needed backup or a quick getaway. I got out of the car as Lindy sat in the driveway, but I didn’t even get to the porch before my mother was yelling at me.

“Did you sleep with them?” she asked.

“What?” I asked.

“Those fucking twins from the bar. Did you sleep with them?”

“As a matter of fact, I did,” I said.

“And you fucking call me a slut,” my mother said.

“Because you are.”

“At least I don’t sleep with two men at once,” she said.

The part of me that was worried that I was a bigger whore than my mother reared its ugly head. But I was done with her insults. “No, you just fuck your way through the entirety of most of the clubs in town. How many have there been, Gracie?”

“Don’t you dare turn this on me,” my mother screamed. “We’re talking about you. Princess Emma who thinks she’s so much better than her trashy mama. Turns out you’re no better than me after all. How does that feel, huh? How does it feel to know you’ve done things even I haven’t done? You’re not special, Emma. You’re a whore and everyone is gonna know it.”

I could hear the doors opening around us as people stepped out onto the porches. They were staring at my mother as her eyes grew wide with anger. I heard Lindy get out of the car and come up to the porch, her arm slinking around my waist.

“Come on. You can stay at my place,” she said.

“You don’t get to judge me anymore!” my mother yelled. “You don’t get to fuck two men at once and then call me the slut!”

I felt tears rising in my eyes as Lindy helped me get into her car. My hands were shaking as I shoved them into my pockets. My knuckles grazed the check, and I sighed as I closed my eyes. My mother was screaming from the porch. Calling me things like ‘good for nothing’ and ‘no better than her’ and telling me I no longer had a right to look down on her the way I had been doing. And maybe she was right. Maybe I was no better than her. Maybe I was just a slut for the brothers or whatever the hell it was she was calling me.

But this check told me they regarded me as more than that. The check they gave me—that I had held onto so I could personally drop it into my personal account—proved to me that I was more than just a fuck buddy to them.

At least, I hoped it did.

“Let’s get you back to my place,” Lindy said.

My mother was still screaming from the porch as we backed out of the driveway.

“Actually, can we go to the bank first?” I said. “I’ve still got that check.”