Biker's Virgin

"Yeah, it's-"

"Don! Donovan!"

The tractor had stopped. Stomping towards us was Mr. Crewe, Don's dad. Don was pretty intimidating to look at, tall and built, but his dad was like a weathered, angrier, older version of him. The physical labor on the ranch had kept him strong and in shape, and he was taller than Don's 6'4. In all the years Don and I had been friends, since high school, he was almost never not screaming.

"Don, what the fuck are you doing? You're back here so you can load the hay. How the fuck do you think it's gonna get to the barn?" he demanded.

"I got it, Dad," Don replied. "You started moving before I was done." I shut up and let them go at it, something I used to do often. It was like it was the only way they knew how to relate to each other. It was just the two of them, had been since Don was fifteen, and I had known him for a year at the time. Don's dad was yelling at him about wasting the gas the tractor ran on when he finally noticed they weren't alone. He frowned deep, lines pulling down the sides of his mouth.

"Who are you?" he asked, but then squinted. "Roman?"

"It's good to see you again, Mr. Crewe," I said. He straightened up, putting his hands on his hips.

"What are you doing here? Don told me you went overseas. Army, right?" he asked, awkwardly formal.

"Got back not too long ago. I just wanted to catch up with Don. See how he's doing."

"You two do that," he said tightly. "Don, ten minutes. You have work to do," he barked at his son before walking away.

"Fuck," I said.

"You get used to it. This is him on level one."

"I just forgot how intense he could be. Guess I chose a shitty time to drop by."

"Naw, it's not your fault. You've been gone all this time, anyway. Seeing the world and shit," he said, grinning.

"It wasn't a vacation, Don," I laughed.

"You look like you managed to keep yourself safe. Unless you got a robot leg under those pants."

"Wouldn't you like to know," I joked. "Gotta buy me a drink first, man." He laughed.

"Seriously. Nothing happened over there?"

"Nothing permanent. But something might happen to you if you don't go back and help your dad."

"Yeah," he sighed. "Listen, how about we go out for drinks tonight. It's been way too long." I agreed. I was close with my family, but Don and I, after high school had ended and we weren't being forced to see each other every day, just did. He had been an athlete, too, and both of us had lost our moms, so we had had that in common but after all these years, our differences didn't matter that much anymore. I let him get back to his work, telling him to just text me when he could meet me.

The bar we went to ended up

being fuller that I expected, but then again, it had been a little while since I had been to a bar. It was a pretty popular spot in town, and even though it was a Monday night, there was a moderate crowd. We sat at a booth instead of sitting at the bar so we would be able to talk. We both got beers, Don flirting with the waitress, a cute sandy blonde who blushed every time she passed our booth.

"So, how have you been keeping yourself busy?" I asked him. He was looking past me, checking out our waitress as she walked away.

"Hm? Oh, you know," he said, trying to remember what I had asked him. I had almost forgot how he was always on the lookout for his newest bed warmer. He had a pretty solid yearlong tan, both from working outside and his mom, who had been Sioux Indian. That with his height, body, and the moves he had been practicing since I'd met him meant he was pretty successful with women. "Work. Helping my dad on the ranch. Working my way through this town, one graduating class at a time."

"I thought you'd be done by now," I said.

"Yeah, well, things didn't really work out that way."

"What happened to you playing?"

"I did for a while, but my pops didn't think it was worth it," he said, shrugging. Don had gotten into a Triple A baseball team a while back. He had wanted to work his way up to the pros. The last time we had seen each other, he had still been playing.

"He made you quit?"

"I got sick of his shit. He couldn't shut up about it being a waste of my time."