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“Aero.”
“Sloane.”
She rolled over onto her stomach and kicked her feet in the air. “You didn’t think this was something you should have told me sooner?” She picked a pepperoni off her pizza and popped it into her mouth.
I shrugged and grabbed my beer off the nightstand. “It’s not that important, Sloane, and I just found out about it when I texted you,” I chuckled.
We had cruised the backroads around Texarkana for about an hour and then made our way back to Sloane’s. Ten seconds after stepping foot in the door, we were both naked and getting reacquainted after four long days.
We finally made it to the bedroom where we took it slower and finally fell onto the bed, exhausted and starving.
Once we decided on what to have for dinner, we ordered a pizza and were finally able to keep our hands off of each other long enough to eat.
My back was to the headboard, and Sloane’s facing the foot of the bed. My plate was balancing on my lap, and I laid my hand on her bare ass.
She glanced over her shoulder at me and frowned. “Are you sure this isn’t club business, and you shouldn’t tell me?”
“Babe, it’s going to be on national TV. There is no keeping this as club business.”
She quirked her lips and nodded. “You might be right.”
“Nut,” I muttered.
“But what are you guys going to do when you do have club business? You can’t really be having Church while there are cameras in your face.”
I finished my beer and set the empty down. “Not do it on camera, babe. We’re not going to be recorded every second for the rest of our lives. The way I look at it, this will last a couple of years, and the club will be on more solid ground.”
“We should watch some reality TV and see how it’s going to be for you guys. Hand me the remote next to you.”
I grabbed the remote and tossed it down to her. “I don’t think there is going to be any reality TV like what we’re going to be doing,” I chuckled. On the ride over, I wondered what the hell we were going to do when the cameras were rolling. A lot of the days at the shop, we didn’t do much other than work.
Sure, we were all smartasses, but we only had so many zingers before we just started to sound like assholes to each other.
“Well, not exactly like you guys, because if there was, you guys wouldn’t have this opportunity,” she mumbled. She surfed through the channels and finally landed on Survivor.
“Babe,” I laughed. “I can say with all honesty that Tread is not going to be at all like Survivor.”
“You’re not going to vote one of you out of the club every episode?” she laughed. She tossed the remote back to me and flipped around until she was snuggled under my arm. “I have some news.”
“You land a reality show, too?”
She giggled and shook her head. “No. It’s news but not near as exciting as yours. Maybe I should have told you mine first,” she mused.
“Spit it out, babe,” I coaxed.
“One of the authors I like sent me an email,” she blurted. “She writes about motorcycle clubs, well, and other genres, but MC is what she’s mainly writing right now.”
“Cool.”
She looked up at me and frowned. “That doesn’t happen often, Aero.”
“Very cool?” I chuckled. I got that Sloane was big into her books and authors, and I loved that she had something she was so passionate about, but I didn’t really get it. I pressed a soft kiss to her lips, and she sighed.
“You don’t get it,” she muttered. She slapped my chest and turned back to the TV.
“I don’t, Sloane, but I want you to tell me about it. And what does this author want?” I asked.
“She wanted to know how you and I got together.”
“She gonna write a book about us?” I laughed.
“Maybe,” she shrugged.
“I guess you weren’t kidding when you said our meeting was like a romance novel.”
“It was.” She tipped her head back to me. “It is. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it hasn’t happened yet.”
“You mean like you find out I snore or you fart in your sleep?” I joked.
“I do not,” she insisted.
“Or that I’m just part of a harem of men you have?”
She glared at me. “Have you been looking at my books?”
“Well, I will say you have a book with three dudes and a chick on it, and I’m hoping you only read that shit, babe, and do not want to have that in your life, too.”
She grabbed my plate and tossed it on the floor. She twisted to straddle my waist and rested her hands on my shoulders. “That is called a reverse harem, and I do like them.”
I raised my eyebrow. Was this the shoe she was waiting to drop? Because if Sloane was about to tell me she wanted to add three dudes to this equation, we might run into a problem.
“But only on paper.”
I let out a breath and sagged. “Fucking hell, woman. I thought you were about to tell me you wanted a wiener sandwich or some shit.”
Sloane busted out laughing and shook her head. “Not at all, Aero. I’m good with a single hot dog.”
I wrapped my arms around her and buried my face in her neck. “You’re a fucking nut, babe.”
“Yeah, but I’m your nut.” She ran her fingers through my hair and pressed a kiss to the side of my head. “And you’re my biker.”
“The biker and the nut. You think that will be the name of your author's next book?”
“God,” Sloane laughed, “I hope not, because she won’t sell a single book. Or she’s going to get readers thinking she’s writing a whole new genre.”
“I don’t even want to know, Sloane,” I chuckled.
She closed the distance between us and pressed a kiss to my lips. “I’ll just keep reading my books and try not to scare you with them.”
“Babe, you can read all you want about blue aliens, cowboys, sword-crossing brothers, or that chick with a harem of men on your shelf, and when you get yourself all hot and bothered, I’ll be right here waiting for you.”
“No more B.O.B.?” she asked.
I closed my eyes. “Who?”
“Battery-operated boyfriend.”
“Fucking hell,” I growled. I rolled her onto her back and covered her with my body.
“I thought we were watching reality TV for research?” she squealed.
I blindly reached for the remote and pointed it at the TV. “The only research we are doing tonight is to see how long it takes to make you scream with B.O.B.”
“Aero,” she panted. “Are you sure you haven’t read a romance novel or two in your life?”
I shook my head and cupped her cheek. “Not once, babe. I just know how to treat you right. That’s all those romance novels sound like to me.”
“So we’re living our own romance novel?”
I nodded. “Every fucking day, babe.”
*
