Page 27 of Rogue's Path

The sweet, fruity taste of her lips still lingers on mine.

“Rogue, we’ve got a job to do.”

And sadly, it’s watching the woman who just walked away like that kiss was nothing. I sit back down and chug my beer. I’ve kissed more than my fair share of women. That kiss felt different, and she just walked away.

Like that was a bad thing. There’s no way I want to mess my life up with a high-maintenance woman with inquisitive eyes and the sweetest lips.

“Thanks for distracting the room for all that time.”

Havoc thinks he’s ribbing me. “My pleasure.” Quite literally.

“She looked like she was about to pass out, but she didn’t ask for your number. That was cold.” Vandal left his microscopic brains back at the compound, it seems.

“What did you expect her to start planning our wedding because of a dare at a bar? No sane woman is going to give a random biker her number at a bar.” Even if that biker is there just to keep you alive. But she doesn’t know that yet.

“Well, if one of them kisses me, I’m going to ask them for their number.”

“So, you can lose it five minutes later.” It takes longer for me to clean one of my bikes than it does for him to ditch a girl. “What is the longest you’ve ever dated a woman?”

“I don’t date.”

Wait. “Why are they all getting up? Are they leaving?”

“That would be too easy for this group.” Havoc’s hand twitches on his bottle.

Most of them are heading to the bar. Except that guy they’re with. He’s heading to the jukebox. There’s sort of a dance floor here. But it’s in the opposite direction. “They’re going to get us killed.”

“Oh yeah they are.” Havoc nods.

The music turns on, and a bunch of them hop onto the bar, including her.

The not-so-sober ones stay on the floor dancing in front of the bar.

Vandal whistles along with some of the other patrons.

Time to move to the bar in case they try to take a header.

This night isn’t going to end well.

We elbow our way to the women. A few of the times, a little more forcefully than necessary. Not that anyone heard the grunts or cared if some guy doubled over when there’s beautiful entertainment in front of them. Those are four less men that we need to worry about.

Why couldn’t they stay in their seats?

The bartender backs away as we approach. I plant myself behind the bar, ready to catch the women on my side. It’s just a coincidence that I’m closest to her.

One thing to say about these women, they might not have any skills, but they sure are exuberant.

Fly knocks a guy’s phone—who was trying to video up one of the girls’ skirts—to the ground, then smashes it with his boot. We’ll deal with the pervert later.

Try as I might, my eyes keep finding their way back to her. Even though only part of her face is visible, it’s enough.

Who knew the song was this long? When did two minutes turn into hours?

Fly elbows another guy who tried to get touchy-feely. I should switch places with him. He seems to be having all the fun.

A good bar fight is fun… This…This is not.

The music fades away. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as the vultures close in on them. I need to be on the other side of the bar…NOW. But the women are in my way.