“My life is nothing short of perfect,” she said.
“Do you believe that?” I asked.
“I do.”
“You need nothing?”
“Need?” she asked. “No.”
“Want?” I asked.
“A girl always wants,” she replied.
“What? What does a girl always want?”
“A sense of security,” she said. “Reassurance that what she has won’t fade away. To be reminded from time to time that she’s loved. Things like that.”
“Do I provide those things?”
She smiled. “You do.”
“So, what is it that you want?”
“Now? Nothing.”
“If that changes, will you let me know?”
She grinned. “I’ll keep you posted.”
We reached the parking lot where the motorcycle was parked. On both sides of it, other motorcycles had been parked, each making use of the minimal space that was available along the beach at sunset.
“They kind of boxed you in,” she said.
Seeing them reminded me of the many times we’d done similar things while out on the road and unable to find a spot to park. I missed the men in the club. The comradery. The brotherhood. The sense of belonging.
“Do you miss them?” she asked.
I realized I was staring blankly at the row of motorcycles.
“Who?” I asked, although I knew what she was asking.
“The guys in your MC?”
I nodded. “I do.”
“The guy who came to Herb’s house won’t let you go see them?” she asked. “Your parole officer?”
“No,” I replied. “He won’t.”
“That’s dumb.”
“Yeah, it is.”
She took her sneakers off the handlebars and untied the laces. “It won’t last forever.”
“One of these days, I’ll be able to go where I want, when I want, with who I want.”
She leaned against the motorcycle and slipped on her shoes. “When you’re given that freedom, what will change?”
I couldn’t give an answer because I didn’t know. I’d spent eight years with the belief that nothing was more important than returning to the club. I now wondered if my priorities were in line with what my life’s necessities truly were.
“I don’t know,” I replied.
For the time being, what was in front of me was all that was important or necessary. I hoped that no amount of freedom would change that, but I had no way of knowing. So I clung to the belief that what satisfied me at that moment would continue to satisfy me forever.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Teddi
Kate pinched a piece of sushi between her chopsticks and lifted it to her mouth. “The craziest?”
“Absolute craziest.”
“Crazy how?”
I sipped my sake. “Something that surprised the hell out of you. In a good way.”
She wedged the slice of sushi into her mouth. As she chewed, she rocked her head from side to side goofily.
“I suppose,” she said, still chewing the food, “it’d have to be anal beads.”
I nearly choked. I leaned over the edge of the table. “Anal beads?” I whispered excitedly. “Oh my God. When?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”
“It does,” I argued. “Who was it with?”
She reached for her drink. “It doesn’t matter.”
I relaxed against the back of my chair and gave her a side-eyed look. “We’re keeping secrets now?”
“Fine. It was a few weeks ago.”
I gasped. “You’re seeing someone?”
She picked up another piece of sushi. “Kind of.”
I slapped her hand. “Stop eating. Tell me more.”
“I met him at Cavo.”
“You went there without me?”
Her brows pinched together. “You’re going clubbing with me now? You and Devin?”
I let out a sigh. “Good point. Anyway…” I finished my sake. “Give it to me.”
I raised my glass. She lifted the flask and poured me another. “He’s older than me, and he—”
“How much older?”
“Ten years.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
“He’s thinking about moving here. He was—”
“He doesn’t live here?”
“No.”
“You had a one-night stand that included anal beads?” I gave her a look. “Who are you?”
“I’ve seen him ten times, give or take. The first time was three weeks ago.”
“What’s he do?”
She chuckled. “It’s kind of funny.”
“Funny how?”
“Well.” She sipped her sake until it was gone. “He’s a drug dealer. Kind of.”
“A pharmaceutical rep?”
“No.” She raised her glass. “A drug dealer.”
I eagerly poured it until it overflowed. “A pharmacist?”
She shook her head. “Drug. Dealer.”
“A fucking drug dealer?” I whispered. “Like, drugs?”
“Kind of.”
“What does that mean?”
“He sells CBD oil.”
Disappointment washed over me. I scoffed. “CBD is legal. Everywhere. All fifty states.”
“But it’s still drugs.”
I picked up a piece of sashimi with my fingers. “So is Tylenol.”
“Well, he’s originally from San Diego, and he’s kind of a hippy. He’s got long hair, he doesn’t always shave, and he—”
“Does he stink?”
“What?”
I bit the sashimi in half. “Stink. Does he smell like poop?”
She laughed. “No. He’s—”
“Does he wear clean clothes?”
“He’s a businessman,” she said, clearly defending him. “He dresses nicely. In his own way but nicely.”
“Does he have a big dick?”
She coughed out of surprise and leaned forward. “It’s as thick as my wrist,” she whispered. “I compared them one night.”
“Devin’s is the size of a fucking cucumber.” I poked the other half of the sashimi in my mouth. “One of the big ones. Every time he fucks me, it’s like the first time all over again.”
“Oh my God,” she said. “That’s exactly how it is with Forrest.”
I laughed. “His name is Forrest?”
“Stop it. I like it. Forrest Cambridge.”
I nearly choked on my sashimi. “That’s like an oxymoron. First name hillbilly, last name wealth.”
She crossed her arms. “I like it.”
I grabbed another piece of sashimi. “Tell me about the beads.”
“We met at the bar and immediately hit it off. His hair is kind of long, almost to his shoulders. It’s all one length, and he wears it back—”
“Beads,” I said, rolling my hand in a circular motion. “We can come back to all this.”