you’ve got a woman now; how’s that going?”
I snort. “You know what it’s like, nothin’ serious.”
She nods, mulling that over. “Well, I hope you’re being nice to her. Women don’t get treated right anymore.”
I laugh, leaning back in my chair. “Do tell me more.”
She giggles. “You know what I mean, there are so many players and broken men out there now, nobody has their mind right. They’re all treating each other badly and pushing their broken pieces around for everyone else to stand on. Not me, I’d rather glue my shit back together then toss it on someone.”
That’s what I like about this girl, fucking magic.
“Well, you find a man that doesn’t treat you right and we’ll make sure he doesn’t sit down for a week ...”
She laughs. “You bikers, so tough.”
“Gotta do what we gotta do.”
We sit and chat for an hour, so fucking easily it’s like I’ve known her for years. I have known her for a little while, being that she’s friends with Briella and spends a lot of time around all of us, but I’ve never spent a great deal of time actually getting to know her. She’s a good chick, and she’s going to make someone really fucking happy one day. I don’t doubt that for a second.
One thing is for certain, I just made a new fucking friend.
And I like her a lot.
“HOW’S BRIELLA’S WRIST?” I ask Aviana as we walk toward a bar after her shift has finished.
Briella fell out of the tree at her eighteenth birthday a week ago, and since then has been moping around miserable because she can’t do anything. After that night, Avi and I started to talk daily on the phone and through text. For whatever fucking reason, we have a connection I can’t understand.
I’m with Samantha, but having Aviana in my life seems to bring me the kind of internal freedom I didn’t think was possible while I was living on this earth.
She does something to my soul—she makes it feel that much better.
“She’s still sulking.” Avi laughs, walking up to a stool and sitting down. “She can’t do anything, which sucks. How is Samantha?”
I grunt and sit on the stool beside her. “Fuckin’ hard work. Gotta wonder why I do it?”
“Why do you do it?” she asks, glancing at me.
A strand of her hair falls across her forehead and down over her mouth and she blows it off with a quick puff of breath. Fuck, she makes even that look good.
“I don’t fuckin’ know, to get laid?”
She laughs. “A man with a face like yours could get laid anytime he wants.”
“Not without puttin’ in the hard yards.”
Rolling her eyes, Avi puts up two fingers to the bartender who immediately gets her two beers.
“You come here a lot?”
She nods. “Every day after work. I like it here; it helps me unwind.”
Honest.
Aviana is the most honest person I know. Nothing holds her back, she just tells it like it is.
“Where is Samantha today?” she asks, taking a sip of the beer when it’s placed down.
“She’s workin’, no doubt finishin’ soon and demandin’ I come on over there,” I mutter, letting the cool amber ale roll down my throat.
“You ought to dump her, Cohen. That’s not nice. Remember what I said about men being nice ...”
I chuckle. “How could I fuckin’ forget?”
She looks to me. “If you don’t like her, you shouldn’t be with her.”
“Never said I didn’t like her ...”
“Do you?”
“What?”
“Like her?”
“Yeah, she’s okay.”
Aviana laughs. “If anyone ever refers to me as just ‘okay’ I’m going to flip a lid, seriously. You should be with a girl that you think of as more than just ‘okay.’”
“Show her to me, and I’ll take it.”
She smiles and then bumps my shoulder with hers. “Men, seriously.”
I grin and take another sip of beer.
“Does Briella know we’re hangin’ out?” I ask.
Aviana frowns. “No, but I don’t see why it would be a problem. She loves all you guys.”
“Nah, it wouldn’t be a problem. It’s nice, not sharin’ though.”
She laughs. “You’re right about that. I like not having to explain to anyone where I’m going and who I’m seeing. You’re like my secret friend. It’s a nice feeling.”
I snort. “Fuckin’ secret friend.”
“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”
I do.
I do fucking like it.
More than she’ll ever know.
“You got a man?” I ask her, glancing at her reaction.
Part of me, deep fucking down, wants her to tell me no, she doesn’t have a man and has no intentions of getting one. But she’s eighteen and