We have fourteen years between us. I thought you knew that.”
“I don’t know what I know,” I grumble, making him laugh softly.
We do have a big age gap, which is quite intimidating. Obviously I knew he was older than me, but I didn’t realize it was that substantial. I wonder if I come off as immature to him, especially as I remember giving him the finger yesterday, and all but stomping my feet and carrying on at him.
“The food is good,” I state, changing the subject.
“It is,” he agrees, taking a bite of his sandwich. “I haven’t even been to most of the places on Izzy’s list, so it’s going to be a new experience for me, too.”
“What, do you normally just stick to your usual places?” I ask.
“Yeah, there’s a few places near the clubhouse that we go to a lot. Plus I’m usually too busy, and going out to eat at new places isn’t high on the priority list,” he explains.
“It should be. Food is one of the best things in the world,” I say with a grin. “And you aren’t too busy today.”
“I’m taking time off. Can’t let you leave here without having a proper L.A. experience, now can I?” He finishes the last bit of his meal.
“No, I guess not,” I say, taking a sip of my juice. “What would your day normally consist of? MC stuff?”
Working in a bar that has lots of bikers passing through, I do hear enough to figure out how the whole MC thing works. People tend to see waitresses as invisible and talk freely in front of us. I don’t know how Temper runs his club, but it will be interesting to see. They do treat each other like family, which is something different from what I’ve seen with other MCs.
“Taking care of anything that pops up, really. Problems with the businesses, or anything the men need me for. Making sure everything is running smoothly, and everyone is taken care of,” he explains.
“So you’re basically the dad of the entire MC,” I conclude, leaning back in my seat and watching him. “Daddy Temper.”
He laughs out loud. “Please don’t call me that in public.”
“What about when we aren’t in public?” I can’t help but ask.
His brown eyes darken and fill with heat. “Then it’s fair play.”
Clearing my throat, I look away, unable to take the intensity in his gaze. “Well, I’m ready to leave when you are.”
“Where are we going?” he asks. “Home?”
“No,” I reply, smirking. “Nice try, though. We’re going to spend the rest of the day exploring the city.” I want to see everything.
“I’ve had worse days,” he teases, placing some money with a tip on the table.
“I’m paying for lunch,” I announce, to which he laughs.
“No, you’re not.” But to his annoyance, I hand the waitress my credit card.
We leave Eggslut and head out on our next adventure, and throughout the rest of the day, I mentally tick off each place after each visit. I’ve never not worked, and this little kidnapping is starting to feel like a holiday.
As fucked-up as that sounds.
I worry about Mom, and if she’s taking her medication and attending the appointments. I wonder if Ivy is cleaning the house, and if she knows how to do the inventory at Franks by herself. I’ve never even been away from my mom for more than a night or two, because she never allowed that. I even went to a local college so I could still live at home. I’m so out of my comfort zone right now, but it feels exhilarating.
Ivy messages me and I send her a picture back of me standing in front of the Hollywood sign. She now knows where I am for sure, and can put together that I’m not too far away at all. I feel bad that she’s at home working and covering my shifts while I’m eating like a queen and sightseeing, but I promise to make it up to her when I get home. More than anything, I feel bad that she’s