Culver:A Motorcycle Club Romance Novel(7)

By: Meg Jackson




“So what brings you to Vegas? More business?” I asked, wanting to get Boon’s attention back on me. Making out with a stranger was my goal for the week; if he also happened to help Alicia fulfill her goal, I would be happy for her, but tonight I was looking out for number 1.



“No, this trip is about pleasure. Lucky me,” he said with a grin. He took another swallow of the drink and I realized that it was also the last sip of the drink. I prepared myself for disappointment: he’d had his drink now, and there was nothing keeping us here. He could leave or stay: I prepared myself for the disappointment of him leaving.



“Can I just say,” Boon began, staring into the empty glass, “that this has been the worst Seven and Seven I’ve ever had. But, I’m a firm believer in second chances. I wouldn’t feel right leaving without giving the bartender another shot at making a decent drink.”



“That’s very kind of you,” I said jokingly, elated that he seemed to be planning on staying. At least for one more drink…





~ 5 ~



One more drink turned into three, turned into another fishbowl for me and Becky, turned into two light beers for Alicia, who we were still keeping an eye on. She’d sobered up considerably, though, and was actually using real words and full sentences. Plus, she seemed to have picked up on my M.O. for the night and had backed off flirting with Boon, instead playing her version of a wingman, which was admittedly a little embarrassing.



“Samantha, tell that story about you and the saltines,” she’d say, draping an arm over me. Rolling my eyes and laughing, I remembered it as just another goofy high school antic. Boon leaned in, though, seeming interested.



“It’s really not that great a story,” I said, blushing at his interest.



“It’s actually a pretty good story. One of Missoula’s best, I’d say,” Becky said demurely, pulling her own weight in this apparently collective effort to score me a kiss with Mr. Heartthrob. Boon’s eyes danced, obviously amused and eager to hear.



“It’s really not that great a story,” I repeated, burying my head in my hands. It really wasn’t that great a story, by the way, it was just one of my only stories.



“So, you know saltines? Like, for soup? Well, they always gave them out at lunchtime, you know, and so Samantha here had this brilliant idea of hording saltines all senior year for…what? What was your plan, again?” Alicia nudged me, laughing at how red my face was.



“I was going to throw them all in the swimming pool,” I said, gritting my teeth. This story is so dumb, he is going to think I’m such a loser…



“Oh, right, yeah, chlorine soup! So, Samantha’s big idea for the senior prank is to fill the school swimming pool with saltines. Which would have been a pretty good one, I’ll admit, even though I’ll never understand why you didn’t want to just buy a lot of saltines, like a normal person…”



“Wait, wait, your school has a swimming pool? I didn’t know they had those at high schools,” Boon said with a laugh. Becky nodded emphatically.



“Oh yeah, we have the best swim team in the state,” she said, a hint of pride in her voice. It occurred to me that we were still so attached to our ra-ra high school mentality that we still wanted to take pride in dumb things like having a good swim team. None of us were even on the swim team.



“Anyway, so Samantha is hustling these saltines every day at lunch, and she’s hording them all in her locker. Like, why bring them home? You can just stuff saltines in your locker, right? That makes so much sense,” Alicia said, sarcasm dripping. Boon chuckled again and I caught his eye, the blush still in full bloom.

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